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memoirs/ 
 
 OF 
 
 THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 MARTHA LAURENS RAMSAY, 
 
 WHO DIED IN CHARLESTON, S.C. 
 
 ON THE 10th OF JUNE, 1811, IN THE 52d YEAR OF HER AGE. 
 
 WITH AN APPENDIX. 
 
 CONTAINING EXTRACTS FKOM HER DIARY, LETTERS^, 
 AND OTHER PRIVATE PAPERS. 
 
 AND ALSO 
 
 FROM LETTERS WRITTEN TO HER, BY HER FATHER, 
 HENRY LAURENS, 1771-1776. 
 
 BY DAVID RAMSAY, M.D, 
 
 The experimental part of religion has generallj' a gi-eater influence than its 
 theory. Mrs. Rowe's Posthumous Letter to Dr, Wattt. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 charlestown; 
 PfllNTED AND SOLD BY SAMUEL ETHERIQGE. Jv»'r; 
 
^^♦, 
 
 %^ 
 
 DISTRICT OF SOUTH CAROLINA, 10 VVIT.-^ 
 
 BE it remeuAei-ed tliat on Uie fifteenth day of July, Aaiiio Domini oiif- 
 thousancl, eight hundred and eleveii, and in the thiity sixth year of the 
 mdependence of t}.e United States of America, El. anor Henr\ Laurens 
 Ramsay, Maiaha Henry Laurw.s Riiinsay, Catharine Henn" Laurens 
 Ramsay, and Sabma Elhott Ramsay, of t!-.e said district, have deposited in 
 this office the title of a book, the riglu whereof they chiim as j-roprietoK;, 
 m the words following, to wit : j i ' " ^ 
 
 Memoirs of the Life of Martha Lam-ens Ramsay, who died in Cliarlic. 
 ton S.C. on the 10th of June, 1811, in the fifty second year of her aee- 
 with an Appendix, containing E>j:ti-acts from !ier Diuvv, Letti -s and otli- 
 er private papers, and also fioui I,etters w ritten to her by iier fathe--- 
 Henry Laurens, 1771-1776. By David Rtimsay. M.D. 
 
 The experimental part of rehgiou has K'tnerallv a greater influence tliau 
 Its theory. Mrs. Kmuc's Postlmmoui Utter to Dr. Ifafts. 
 
 In conformity to the Act of Congress of the United States en- 
 (L.S.) *'*'^' . A" :^f, 'wi' ''!f encouragement of leurning, by securing 
 the copies of Maps, Charts* and Books to the authors a.nd Dro- 
 prietors of sucli copies during the times therein mentioned," an.J 
 also to an Act entitled - An Act suppleinentaiy to an Act fbr the eJicc^r^ 
 ^ETlf l'-''*"""Sl>y sauring the copies of Maps,. Charts, and Books to 
 the authors and H-opnet..rs of such copies during the tiraeJ tlu^-ein men- 
 tioned and e>. tending the beiKfiis thereof to the arts of designing, engrav- 
 sJBg, and etching historical and other prints." " "' ^ 
 
 JAMES JERVEY, 
 Fcch-ul Clerk, S. Carolina District. 
 
 f^ 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Tnii manuscripts which gave rise to this 
 pnblieation wptc tound anio^Ji,* the private pa- 
 pers of their author, Martha Laurens Ram- 
 say, after her death, and were unseen by ev- 
 ery human eye but her own, previous to that 
 event. The first mention she ever made of 
 them was in the full view of death, and only 
 three days before its fatal stroke. She then 
 announced the drawer in which they were de- 
 posited, and at the same time requested, that 
 after they were read they might be kept as 
 a common book of the family, or divided 
 among its members. They appeared, on pe- 
 rusal, to be well calculated to excite serious 
 impressions favourable to the interests of re- 
 ligion ; for they were a practical, experimen- 
 tal comment on its nature and salutary effects 
 even in this I'^fe. Its fendency to promote 
 human hapjiiness, and its sovereign eflficacy 
 to tranquillize the mind and administer con^ 
 solution under aHiictions, disappointments, 
 and ti'ials. 'IMicy exhibited an example which 
 teaches more compendiously and forcibly than 
 
^■^ ^REPACK. 
 
 precept, the value of piety, and the comfort 
 of subniission to the ^^ill of God. With this 
 view of the subject it became an interesting 
 inquiry, hoM far it wouhl be proper to with- 
 hold them from that more enlarged sphere of 
 usefulness, which would result from their 
 publication ? In determining this question, 
 recourse was had to the opinions of the Rev. 
 Drs. Hollinshead and Keith, under whose 
 ministry the Avriter of the private papers, 
 now published, had sat upward of twenty 
 years, and to whom she was intimately known. 
 They strongly recommended the publication 
 as well calculated to do good. Their opin- 
 ions and the reasons of them were given in 
 the subjoined letters.* In publishing to the 
 
 * A letter from the Rev. Dr. Hollinshead to Dr. David 
 Ramsay. 
 
 Charleston, S. C. July 1, 1811, 
 DEAR SIR, 
 
 The perusal of our much esteemed Mrs. Ramsay's papers 
 has awakened in me many pleasing, though painful reflec- 
 tions. The loss of such a friend and such a memherof our 
 church is unspeakable. Her example, while she abode 
 vith us, was a living lecture on the importance of tl'e hu- 
 man character in every part it has to act upon the stage of 
 life, and eminently recommended the maxims and habits of 
 our holy religion, as worthy of all acceptation. The devout 
 reflections of her retired hours exhibit a mind im])resscd 
 with the great realities of its eternal mterests, truly solicit- 
 ous to improve in godliness and virtue, and highly favoured 
 at the same time with an intimate intercourse with heaven. 
 Permit me to say, that I think the piiblicatioii of these de- 
 vout exercises of her heart, with a sketch of her life, might 
 contribute much to the establishment and cftmfort of many 
 pious exercised christians, who walk in fear and darkness. 
 
PREFACE. V 
 
 world <]ie private religious exercises of an in- 
 dividual, it seemed a thing of course that some 
 
 for want of knowing- how others have heen affected in scenes 
 of trial hke tlu-ir own. It would be read with interest and 
 improvement by chiistians in every situation whether of 
 prosperity or attiiclion. It would be peculiarly gratifying 
 to a numerous circle to whom every memorial of their be- 
 loved departed friend will be precious. In presenting it to 
 the commimilv, which 1 thmk no person can so well do as 
 yourself, you will perform an interesting and acceptable duty 
 lo society, and embalm, at the same time, the virtues and 
 the memory of h most amiable christian. Your undertaking 
 this will gratify many oiheis as well as. 
 
 Dear Sir, your truly sympathizing, and 
 affectionate friend, 
 
 W. HOLLINSHEAD. 
 
 A letter from the Rev. Dr. Keith, to Dr. David Ramsay. 
 
 Cluirleston, S. C. June 28, 1811. 
 DEAH SIR, 
 
 The manuscripts whicli you wei'e so good as to leave with 
 me, I now return with niy trordial thanks for the favour of 
 having them svibraitted to my perusal. 
 
 1 have read them with that close attention, with that live- 
 ly interest, witli that melancholy pleasure, which have been 
 naturally excited by the circumstance of their relating to a 
 person, who stood high in my esteem and regards as a 
 christian and a tVitnd while living, and whose precious 
 memory my heart is disposed ever to cherish with the 
 tenderest mingled emotions of affection and regret. 
 
 From the earliest period of my acquaintance with Mrs. 
 Rum.sa}', 1 have considered her as a lady of a very superior 
 mind, of dispositions eminently benevolent, friendly and 
 generous ; and of those various and valuable accomplish- 
 ments which could be derived only from the best educa- 
 tion, from an aseiduous attention to the most proper and 
 effectual meafis of improvement, and from a long and in- 
 timate intercourse with many of the first characters in her 
 native country and in Europe. She was, however, still 
 
tl TREFACE. 
 
 account of that in(iividual should be given at 
 the same time; for without some such kuowl- 
 
 much more honourably and happily distinguished by the 
 grace of God, by which, in her early years, her heart was 
 renewed and sanctified, and under the influence of which, 
 through the succeeding course of her life, she exhibiied in 
 the view of all attentive and judicious observers, a bright 
 and attractivi^ exampl of the temper and conduct of a real 
 christian. But it required that delineation of the senti- 
 ments, feelings, and exercises of her heart, which her own 
 pen has drawn, for her own use in her raost secret transac- 
 tions with her Saviour and her God, to enable even her 
 most intimate friends to see her character disi)layed in its 
 brightest and most amiable beauties, in her deep and Uhaf- 
 fected humility, in her uiidisstmbled and uncommon sense 
 of sinfulness and unworthiness. in her remarkable self <le- 
 nial, in respect to wftrldly interests and enjoyments, in her 
 strong nd steadfast faith, trust and hope, and qu»et, sweet 
 resignation, under the most painful ilisappointments, afllic- 
 tions, and trials, in the fervour of her devotions, in the closet 
 as well as in the family, and the sanctuary, and at the table 
 of the Lord, in the overflowings of her benevolence, and 
 charity toward all around her, according to tlieir respective 
 circumstances, and in the ardour of her affections especially 
 to her own family and peculiar friends, expressed in her 
 many prayers for them, avid her often renewed solemn res- 
 olutions to do every thing within her ])Ower, by a conscien- 
 tious, faithful, cheerful performance of ever}' personal, rel- 
 ative, and religious duty for promoting their temporal, spir- 
 itual, and eternal interests and happiness 
 
 Truly " her walk was close witli God," and '* her liglit 
 shone brightly before men." 
 
 The impressions made on my own mind by the perusal of 
 these Memoirs of .Mrs. Ramsay, and extracts from hei- Di- 
 ary, Sec have irresistibly led me to wish and earnestly to 
 desire that they may be permitted to appear in print. To 
 withhold such papers from the public, would be to deprive 
 many, very many, into whose hands they might come, of a 
 most pleasing entertainment, and a rich benefit To her 
 family and friends, in whose hearts she still lives, the vol- 
 ume would be a most welcome and precious memorial gf 
 
PREFACE. Viji 
 
 edg^e, many of (lie rcileclions of i\\e writer 
 would be oomparatively uninteresting, if not 
 unintelligible. It was therefore resolved to 
 prefix to the manuscripts, some general ac- 
 count of the author, as far as was necessary, 
 to throw light on their contents. The publi- 
 cation of these private papers was the oi'iginal 
 design, the publication of (lie life of their au- 
 thor only secondary and incidental, as an in- 
 
 v'1i!it she was in her-elf, and of uliat she was to them. 
 AVhile 10 Jill extensive circle of readers, fund of books of 
 this description, it v/ouUt afford the desirable means of be- 
 cornine; nctiiiainted with the excellent and amiable charac- 
 ter, with the eiiiinent christian virlnes and attainments, of 
 one who adorned every i-elatiun which she sustained, and 
 fdled with dignity and usefidness, every sphere of life in 
 which she rao\etl. 
 
 Thus, *' she being dead, would continue to speak" forci- 
 bly and persuasively it is hoped, to the children of the world, 
 in favour of the divine and blessed Saviour, to whom she liv- 
 eil and died ; and more especially to the disciples and friends 
 of this Saviour, ^lie would speak with the best effect in the 
 wav of instruction, encouragement, and consolation, rela- 
 tive to the various scenes of duty and trial, in which they 
 may l>e called to be followers of her, and of all like her, 
 ** who, througli faith and patience, inherit the promises." 
 
 Under the influence of these, and similar reasons, vou 
 will, I trust, yield to the call of duty, and consider vourself 
 as rendtii'ing an important service to the public, and a due 
 tribute of ])raise to the tiod of all grace, by consenting tf» 
 publish these valuable papers as socm as may be practicaltle. 
 
 In all christian regards, includiiig a tender svmjtathv to- 
 waj-d yourself and \our dear childien, under every trial, 
 and especially under this peculiarly heavy affliction, Mrs. 
 K. cordially joins with. 
 
 Dear Sir, 
 
 Your sincere, and affectionate frien4, 
 
 Isaac S. Keith. 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 Iroduclion to the effusions of her heart, whieh 
 Jiad heen put on paper solely for her own pri- 
 vate use. God grant that their publication 
 may be the means of exciting in others, and 
 especially the connexions and friends of their 
 author, the same lively sentiments of fervent 
 rational piety with whieh she was animated. 
 
 David Eamsay. 
 
 Ckarleston, S. C. July 15, 18U. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 SECOND EDITION. 
 
 Tke Etlif or of the present Edition of Oiese 
 Menmirs, had the honour and happiness of a 
 lonj- acquaintance with the snhject of them, 
 and cheerfully Slives his testimony, with that 
 of others, to the eminent worth of her char- 
 acter, and to the faithfulness of her biogra- 
 plier. The religion of Mrs. Ramsay was the 
 Avarm. vital, active, unaffected religion of the 
 Bible. Happy would be the effect, if at this 
 period of lani^uor, when the standard of re- 
 lii^ious exercises and experience is so low if 
 these Memoirs, should contribute, by the 
 blessing of God, in any measure to raise it. 
 
 The Editor subjoins the testimony of Rev, 
 Btinjamin Palmer, of Beaufort, S. C. con- 
 tain, d in a letter to the Rev. Dr. Keith, as 
 follows. 
 
 " Mrs. P. and myself have been readmg 
 the verv valuable little volume. Memoirs of 
 Mrs. Ranisav. which you sent me by Mr. 
 Ilulburt. Mv opinion of that excellent la- 
 dv's piety and learnin?^, had been gi-ejit, ever 
 since I was capable of forming an opinion, 
 
-^ PREFACE. 
 
 and had an opportunitj to do it. But f can 
 triilv saj, (hat these Memoirs have klisclos- 
 ed such a rare assembhigeol' menial and mor- 
 al excellencies, that until I read tiiem. (he 
 half was not ivnown to me. What a wonder- 
 ful faculty she must have possessed, of keep- 
 ing concealed her superior qualities under 
 the veil of so much apparently entire uncon- 
 sciousness of her own uncommon superiority. 
 Surely, if in any instance, the left hand has 
 not been allowed to know what the right hand 
 doth, it is in this. I know not how to express 
 the exalted opinion I now entertain of her un- 
 usual merit. I do not know when I have 
 i^ad any thing with more interest and de- 
 light. This may, in part, be owing to my 
 having had the honour and pleasure of a per- 
 sonal acquaintance with her; but I am sure 
 that independent of that circumstance, the 
 effect would have been nearly the same. 
 What a model of female excellence, in every 
 point of view, do her biography and letters 
 exhibit. I hope with you, and cannot hut 
 believe, that these Memoirs will prove a 
 blessing to many readers." 
 
 Charlestown, Mass. May 1, 1812. 
 
MEMOIRS, he. 
 
 Martha Laurens IIa:visay was born hi 
 Charleston, S. C on tlie Sd. of November, 
 1759. She >vas tlie daugbler of Henrv Lau- 
 rens and of Eleanor Ball, and lorn in the 
 ninth year after their marriage. By the fa- 
 therms side she was of Frenel> extraction. Her 
 great gi-and parents were born in Ilo.helie. 
 and suffered in the famous siege of that place. 
 They were Ilugonots or Protestants. Being, 
 by the revocation of the edict Nantz, comj)eri- 
 ed to leave their native corntry, tlieveame to 
 America in the latter end of t '«e 171 h. century. 
 Her maternal ancestors migrated from Dev- 
 onshire in England, and settled in South Car- 
 olina about the same time. 
 
 In the first year of her life she had the 
 small pox so severely that she was supposed 
 to be dead, and as such was actually laid out 
 preparatory to her funeral. This was done 
 under an open window, instead of the close 
 room in which she had been kept, according 
 to the absurd mode of treating the small pox 
 la 1760. Dr. Moultrie; coming in at this 
 
^ 2 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 crisis, pronounced lior to be still alive, prob- 
 ably recalled to life by tbe fresli air of I be 
 ' open window. Under otber circumstances 
 sbe would sbortly bave been buried, as was 
 tlien commonly done, witb persons wbo died 
 of tbe small pox in tbat year of extensive 
 mortality. A valuable life was tbus provi- 
 dentially saved for future usefulness. 
 
 Marlba Laurens early discovered a great 
 capacity and eagerness for learning. In tbe 
 course of ber tbird year sbe could readily 
 read any book, and, wbat is extraordinary, in 
 an inverted position, witbout any difficulty. 
 In youtb ber vivacity and spirits were exube- 
 rant. Feats of activity, tbougb attended 
 witb personal danger, were to ber familiar ; 
 great exertions of bodily labour; romantic 
 projects; excesses of tbe wildest play were 
 preferred to stagnant life ; but from all tbese 
 sbe could be turned off in a moment to seri- 
 ous business. As sbe grew up, tbe same ac- 
 tivity was exerted in acquii'ing tbe useful and 
 ornamental parts of female education. Sbe 
 very soon acquired a grammatical knowledge 
 of tbe Frencb language ; a considerable em- 
 inence in reading, writing, aritbmetic, Eng- 
 lisb grammar, geography, tbe use of tbe 
 globes. Sbe even acquired a considerable 
 acquaintance witb geometry* and math- 
 
 * Among her private papers has been found, accirately 
 drawn by her hand, the first plan, of the present circular 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 .ematical science. At ihe saoie time slic was 
 iiKlefatigable in cuhivaiing lui acquaintance 
 ^vith books; and, by means of abrid.^ing, 
 transcribing* and conmsitting to mensory, 
 vas very successful in retaining much of 
 -what sbe read. In accompHsbments and 
 the ornamental parts of education, sbe excell- 
 ed, and in the exercise of them took great 
 delight, . 
 
 In the 11th. year of her age sbe sustained 
 an immense loss by the death of her excellent 
 mother ; but tbisV»as in some measure made 
 up by the maternal care of her good aunt, 
 Mary Laurens, tiie >vife of James Laurens, 
 whose sound judgment, refused manners, and 
 eminent piety wiU fitted her for training up 
 lier orphan niece for both worlds. To her 
 care, and to that ol* iiis brotlier, Henry Lau- 
 rens committed tiie cliariic of his two daugh- 
 ters, while he went to superintend the educa- 
 tion of his sons in Europe. There he con- 
 tinned till the end of tlk- yvnv i 77 i, w hen love 
 for his country brought him back to its de- 
 fence against the aggressions of Britain. 
 Thus, while Providence deprived Miss Lau- 
 rens of the instructions and example of her 
 
 church, but without the western projection afterward add- 
 ed bv others This preceded ihe ele-nnt phm r>l ihe in- 
 ..enioas architect, Mr. Mills, and w:.s introductory to the 
 Tnoiion whicli ultimutelv terminated in Uie adoption ot the 
 eircrdar form. 
 
 n 
 
u 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 imtii5*iil nioOier, it raised up another friend, 
 wlio peribrined tlie maternal duties with 
 equal capacity, fidelity, and affection. 
 Thougli she was deprived of tiie company of 
 her wise and virtuous father, for almost the 
 whole of that interesting period, which ex- 
 tended from the 11th. to the 22d.year of her 
 age, she continued to receive letters from 
 him. From 1771 till 1775 his paternal in- 
 structions, communicated by letter, were cal- 
 culated to forward the virtuous education of 
 a belovefl dau!:;']ster, g;rowing uj) with fair 
 prospects of an ample fortune ; but in and af- 
 ter 1775 he warned her of the probability that 
 his estate uo!iId be forfeited, and that her 
 ftither arnj brother in arms would lose their 
 lives, and jhat she must prepare to maintain 
 herseir by her own exertions.* These antici- 
 pations were not fully realized; but the ex- 
 pectation of them had a direct tendency to 
 assist in formiiij^' tlje solid education of the 
 pv^rson to whom they were addressed. 
 
 Miss I.aurens. in her 12th. year, began to 
 be tiie subject of serious religious impres- 
 sions. She was well instructed in the 
 ,^reat gospel mystery of salvation by the aton- 
 ing sacrifice of Jesus Clirist for the sins of 
 the worhl. And there is good reason to be- 
 lieve, that at a very early period she was 
 
 * See Appendix No. I. for extracts fror:: 'hcsv? letters. 
 
MKS. RAMSAY. 
 
 i.5 
 
 bpought by the i^race of Gnd cordialiy to ac- 
 cept of salvation freely olfcrcd, ihough dear- 
 ly purchased. 
 
 In the 15th. year of her age, in confornn- 
 ty to the advice of Dr. Doddridge, and in a 
 form of words recommended by him, she pre- 
 pared, and solemnly executed an instrument 
 of writing, called by her with great proprie- 
 ty, ** A self dedication and solemn covenant 
 vitli God." In this, after a suitable intro- 
 duction *< she presents before her Maker the 
 whole frame of her nature, all the faculties of 
 her mind, and all the members of her body, as a 
 living sacrifice holy and acceptable unto God.'' 
 And** not only consecrates all that she was, and 
 all that she had to his service, but humbly re- 
 signs to his heavenly will all that she called 
 liers. to be disposed of as he pleased."^ In 
 the Old Testament we several times read 
 of the rulers, priests, and people among the 
 Jews solemnly covenanting before God, to re- 
 nounce their transgressions and to adhere to 
 his service. In the 9th. and 10th. chapters 
 of Nehemiah there is a particular account of 
 a covenant to this effect, drawn up in writing, 
 and ratified by the nanjes and seals of the 
 persons who consented to it. AVhether in 
 
 * See Appendix, No. II. for an ev.nct copy of this solemn 
 act. The original will be .«hown to f^uch iriends as may 
 desire to see it. 
 
16 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 addition to tliese exiuiiples from holy writ, 
 iiikI the recoinniendiition of Dv. Doddridge, 
 there were any parlicuiar circumstances, 
 Avhich, at that time, iadiieed Missliaurens to 
 enter ihlo this written eni4'ii,::^ement to be the 
 Lord's, is unknown. It is believed that she 
 kept the transaction secret from all the 
 Avorld, and that ihe paper in question, now 
 37 years old, was never seen by any human 
 being before her death. At the time of its 
 execution she was exactly fourteen years and 
 seven weeks old, was in possession of all the 
 comforts of life, and had as brilliant pros- 
 pects before her as any of her sex in Caroli- 
 na. The only serious affliction she had then 
 met widi Avas the loss of her mother. This 
 had taken place three years and seven months 
 before, and the keen sensations occasioned 
 thereby must, in the ordinary course of things, 
 havebeen nearly worn off'by time. The engage- 
 ments thus solemnly entered into by Miss 
 Laurens were in unison with her subsequent 
 conduct through life. Of the sincerity of the 
 transaction, on her part, on a view of all its 
 circumstances, no doubt can exist. 
 
 In the year 1775, James Laurens, his wife 
 and two nieces, Martha Laurens and Mary 
 Eleanor I/runeus, afterward the wife of 
 Ciiarles Pinckoej, went to England. Mar- 
 tha Laurens was j*eceived on her landing by 
 her elder brother, John Laurens, from whom 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. ^^ 
 
 slie had been for some years separated. Be- 
 ing older, he had taken great delight in for- 
 warding her education, and particularly, in 
 forming her mind to be superior to the com-^ 
 mon accidents of life, and the groundless 
 fears of some of her sex. To ascertain 
 whether his labours had been successful or 
 not, he bribed the postillion to drive very 
 rapidly, and at the same time, without dis- 
 covering his views, narrowly watched her 
 countenance, to observe whether there were 
 any changes in it expressive of womanish 
 fears at the novel scene, so totally different 
 from all her former travelling in the low, flat, 
 stoneless country of Carolina. On the ter- 
 mination of the experiment to his satisfaction^ 
 he announced to his unsuspecting sister his 
 congratulations, that " he had found her the 
 same Spartan girl he had left her." 
 
 In 1775, when Miss Laurens left Ameri- 
 ca, she destroyed all lier private papers, ex- 
 cept the act of self dcdicauon, just mention- 
 ed. These were numerous, though tlie last 
 of them were written before s]ie liad com- 
 pleted her sixteenth year. They chiefly 
 consisted of devotional remarks on passing 
 events; statements of the religious exercises 
 of her mind; a diary, and extracts from 
 books she had read. This destruction she 
 often regretted, but consented to it, from the 
 prospect of jan itinerant life, during her exile 
 
 B 9 
 
io MEMOIRS OF 
 
 from liome, and still more, from the unset- 
 tled state of her native country on the com- 
 mencement of the revolutionary war. The 
 same process, with the exception of two pa- 
 pers,* and for the same reasons was repeated 
 some years after, when she went from Eng- 
 land to France. During her residence in 
 England she wrote much, and her subsequent 
 regret was greater for its destruction.! She 
 
 * See Appendix, No. 111. for copies of these two papers. 
 
 f Since writiMg this sentence the editor had reason to 
 hope, that something of injportance, written hy Miss Lau- 
 rens, M'hile in England, was still i?i existence, and irv the 
 possession of her intimate friend, Miss Brailsford ; accord- 
 ingly he, hy letter, asked for information, and requested if 
 such writing existed, to he favoured with its perusah To 
 his api)lication the ibIlAwing answer was returned. 
 Sir, 
 
 In consequence of your application of yesterday, T enclose 
 for your perusal two small hooks of reflections given me 
 many years since, hy my late much loved friend, dear Mrs. 
 llamsay ; hut under such injunctions that no human eye 
 but my own shouh! ever see them, that I never thought 
 myself at liberiy to sliow them, even to my beloved moth- 
 er, and I can scarcely think myself justified in doing what 
 I now do. Yet the very close relation in which you were 
 united to lier, makes me particularly anxious to comply 
 with your request ; and I trust if her pure and highly ex- 
 alted spirit now beholds me, slie does not disapprove this 
 act. I beg to he most aflectionately remembered to yom: 
 dear family. 
 
 And remain, sir, 
 
 Your humble servant, 
 
 Elizabeth Brailsford. 
 June 29, 1811. 
 
 For the papers thus providentially brought to view, 
 though their existence was unknown a«d unsuspected whca 
 this work commenced, see Aiipendix, No. IV. 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 19 
 
 afterward either discontinued writing, or de- 
 stroyed what she wrote, for no papers of any 
 consequence have been found among her 
 manuscripts, as written during the subsequent 
 seven years of her residence in Europe. 
 
 During the first years of the American rev- 
 olution, and for a short period after its ter- 
 mination, Miss Laurens resided in various 
 parts of England, improving her mind and 
 preparing herself for meeting the contemplat- 
 ed loss of her father, brother, and fortune by 
 the events of war, and at the same time 
 doing every office of love to her afflicted un- 
 cle. She afterward continued the same kind 
 services to him for several years in France. 
 In that country, in the year 1784, he was 
 released by death,* from a long protracted, 
 painful complaint, under whicli he had la- 
 boured for the last ten years of his life ; and 
 his surviving friends, with pious sacrilege, 
 stole for him a grave, in which they deposit- 
 ed his remains. Mr. James Laurens having 
 no children of his own, proposed to leave the 
 bulk of his estate to Miss Laurens, his faitk- 
 
 * When Mr. James Laurens died in Visjan, his niece 
 Martha Laurens was with her father in England, '^he 
 started cut of bed, and pronounced that her uncle was 
 just dead ; and at her request the day and hour was coni- 
 Kiitted to writing, by Miss Futerell. In tlie ordinary course 
 of the posts between the two countries, intelligence of his 
 death arrived, and the day and hourof it precisely correspond- 
 ed with what had been recorded us aforesaid ia England. 
 
20 MEMOIBS OF 
 
 fill nurse, and affectionate niece ; but she 
 peremptorily rcruscd the acceptance thereof 
 to the deterioration of the reasonable ex- 
 pectations of her brothers and sister. The 
 w\]\ >vas framed agreeable to her wishes ; 
 but the testator, in addition to a child's share, 
 left her a speeiiic legacy of five hundred 
 pounds sterling, declared in his will to be ** a 
 token of his friendship for her ; and as an ac- 
 knowledgment for the services she had ren- 
 dered to him and his family, and for her good 
 and gentle conduct upon all occasions." 
 
 While Miss Laurens resided in England, 
 she formed an acquaintance with many per- 
 sons eminent for their piety, and particularly 
 with the countess of Huntingdon, by whom 
 she was very much noticed. She highly 
 prized the company of such persons, and 
 fi'om them received both pleasure and im- 
 provement. 
 
 After tJfe treaty of France with congress, 
 in 1778, and particularly the rejection in the 
 sam<) year of the offers of Great Britain, for 
 a reunion witli her late colonies, the situation 
 of the Carolina Laurens family in England was 
 unpleasant. Henry Laurens was at that time 
 president of congress, and had oihcially con- 
 ducted the correspondence of that body with 
 the British commissioners, which terminated 
 in a rejection of their offers. Miss Laurent 
 was often obliged to hear her native country 
 
Hms. RAMSAt. 2 1 
 
 abused, and to read and lit^ai* liei* beloved 
 father calumniated as a fomentor of tlie dis- 
 putes between Britain and her colonies ; and 
 as an aspiring, ambitious man, vvisliing to 
 rise to consequence at every hazard; but 
 taught hy his sage advice, and her own 
 good sense, she shunned all political contro- 
 versy. Unable to render her suftering coun- 
 try any other service, she daily offered up 
 her fervent prayers in its behalf. 
 
 Mr. James Laurens, his two nieces, and 
 their aunt, or second mother, finding it expe- 
 dient to leave England, passed over to France, 
 and lived there till the re-establishment of 
 peace. During the greatest part of this pe- 
 riod, of six or seven years, and the whole of 
 the time of their residence in England, they 
 were almost wholly cut off from their usual 
 means of support, for their property was in 
 America, three thousand miles distant. War 
 raged, and the Atlantic ocean rolled between 
 them and it. In this forlorn situation they 
 found ample occasion for all the comforts of 
 that religion which they professed. The 
 greatest economy was necessary. A resi- 
 dence in Vigan was preferred on account of 
 the cheapness of living. There Miss Laur- 
 ens spent her time usefully to her uncle, prof- 
 itably to herself, and as pleasantly as strait- 
 ened circumstances, anxiety for her friends 
 and native countrv, then the seat of war. 
 
^2 
 
 IVIEMOIRS OF 
 
 would pe]*nih. She liatl masiv opporiuiiitier 
 of ii^5|K oving licr mind by reading and con- 
 veisati<m, which slie diligently improved. 
 She aiid tlie family of her uncle received 
 great civilities fiom the French, for the 
 same reasons that they received slights from 
 the English. But nevertheless, they had all 
 abundant scope for the exercise of faith, pa- 
 tience, and trust in that Being to whom they 
 had committed all their concerns. Love to 
 their common Father in heaven, and love 
 and harmony among themselves sweetened 
 their frugal repasts, and took away the bit- 
 terness of the cup of affliction from which 
 they were obliged deeply to drink. 
 
 In the year 17S0, Miss Laurens's father 
 was taken a prisoner, and confined on a charge 
 of high treason in the tower of London, and 
 his life staked on the success of the American 
 revolution. If that had failed, it would have 
 been easy to have convicted him of the crime 
 with wliich he was charged, and not easy to 
 liave saved hi;u from the penalty annexed to 
 it. The disorder of her imcle became daily 
 worse, and required unceasing attention by 
 night, and by day. Cimrleston was taken by 
 the British ; Cajoliria overrun by their ar- 
 mies ; remit (assces were not only^ rendered 
 im[sossibhN but Ihe loss of tlse whole capital 
 extremely probable. I'lie alarms of her fa- 
 ther, at the commencement of the war, seem- 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 ed to be on the point of bein^' realized. About 
 the same time, intelligeaee was received that 
 her dearly beloved brolljer, John Lainens, 
 had fallen in battle. Under this compil- 
 eation of distresses, she found tha wisdom 
 and comfort of having secured a friend in her 
 Maker, by a solemn covenant, entered into 
 >vith him in the morning; of life, and in the 
 full enjoyment of health, and in the lair pros- 
 pect of every worldly bk'ssini^. From this 
 source she drew much eoosolaSiori, and bore 
 up under every triaJ, trusting-- in Him to 
 ^vhom she had, in a mo^t solemn manner, 
 consecrated herself. In due time the clouds 
 of adversity began to disperse ; the prospects 
 of America brightened. Ifer father was dis- 
 charged from cosifinement, and after a sepa- 
 ration of seven years, she joined him in Pa- 
 ris, and presided over his domestic concerns, 
 while he assisted in the n»\e;otiations which 
 terminated in peace and the acknowledged 
 independence of the United States. The 
 transition from iha nurse's efjamber, in a re- 
 mote country phiee, to tijc head of the table 
 of a minister p!enij)oten{iary in the metropo- 
 lis of France, was great and sudden. Amidst 
 the gayeties of Paris, in which she occasion- 
 ally indulged, lier bible was her companion 
 and counsellor. She read it by day, and med- 
 itated on it by niglit. Jt had taught her to 
 bear adversity with patience, resignation, and 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 fortitude ; and now kept her from the intox- 
 icatioii and follies, wliich are too apt to grow 
 out of prosperity. . , 
 
 About this time, Miss Laurens received 
 from her latlier, a present of five hundred 
 c-uineas. For some years before she had 
 been obliged to live in restricted circum- 
 stances, from tlie impossibility of receiving 
 supplies. To make up for this suspension ot 
 her father's usual liberality, he gave her the 
 above mentioned sum at once. Ot this she 
 appropriated only a small part to her own 
 ,,sc. With t!ie surplus she purchased one 
 bundled French testaments, which was the 
 ^vholc number at market; gave them away ^ 
 llmon^• the poor, in and near Vigan, and also 
 esta])iislied a school for the instruction ot the 
 youth in the same place, engaged a master to 
 preside over it, and constituted a fund to de- 
 fray its annual expenses. There is reason to 
 lielieve that the institution continues to this 
 day, for the funds left were fully adequate 
 to Us support in that part of France, where 
 ihe expenses of education and living, w ere 
 tlicn astonishin^gly low. 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 25- 
 
 The restoration of peace to Carolina in 
 1783, pointed out the propriety orilie return 
 of the inhabitants. Miss I.awrens, with her 
 aunt ami sister, ari'ived in Charleston in 1785. 
 after a long absence, comprehending' some- 
 thing more than the whole period of (ht? 
 American reyolution. Their joy on iir.ding 
 their native country at peace, and raised 
 from the humble rank of a dependent colony 
 to that of an independent state, was inexpres- 
 sible. Now, for the iirst time, after leading 
 an unsettled life for ten year's, they fousui 
 themselves at home. On the 23d of J^inuary, 
 1787, Miss Laurens was married to Dr. J)a- 
 vid Ramsay, and in the course of the ensuing 
 sixteen years, became the mother of eleven 
 children. Of these eight survived. Mrs. 
 Ramsay now displayed the same virtuous 
 Iiabits, and the same energy of character, in 
 taking care of her children, in promoting her 
 husband's happiness, and making a well or- 
 dered home his chief delight, that had form- 
 crly distinguished Miss Laurens in acquiring 
 useful knowledge, and discharging the duties 
 of a daughter, a sister, and a niece. Soon 
 after she became a mother, she studied with 
 deep interest most of the esteemed practical 
 treatises on education, both in French and 
 English, that she might be better informed 
 of the nature and extent of her new duties. 
 
 She gave a decided preference to the writ- 
 c 
 
26 V MEMOIP.S OF 
 
 in«'s of Mr. Locke and Di*. AVitlierspoon on 
 that subjeel. The object sl.c proposed to 
 herseli was to obtain ibi- her chiidrcii, lieaUh 
 of body and a well regidakd misid. I'o se- 
 cure the former, they were fioni their bulli 
 daily washed in cold water, and throughout 
 the whole period of infancy, permitted to ex- 
 pose themselves with imcovered feel, to wet 
 and coid, and all tlie varieties and sudden 
 changes of Carolina weather. To favour the 
 latter, they were taue;ht to curb their tem- 
 pers; to subject their passions to the supreme 
 dominion of reason and religion ; to practise 
 self denial; to hear disappointments; and to 
 resist the importunity of present pleasure or 
 pain, for the sake of what reason pronounces 
 fit to be done or borne. She suckled all her 
 chiMren without the aid of any wet nurse ; 
 Avatched over tliem by night and day ; and 
 clun'^' to them every moment of sickness or 
 painf They were the subjects of her prayers 
 before thev were born, and every subsequent 
 dav of her life. With one exception she de- 
 voted them all to God in baptism, publicly in 
 church, at a time, wiien private baptisms 
 %vere common ; for she rejoiced in every 
 proper opportunity of declaring to the w orld 
 her lirm belief of the christian religion, and 
 her respect for all its institutions. As soou 
 as they were capable of receiving religious 
 instruction, she liberally imparted it 5 and 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 27 
 
 early faiiglit llieiii their iiiiseraljlc am] cor- 
 ri5j>ted state by nature ; that they were bora 
 into a world of sin and misery, surrounded 
 with teni|>tations ; and without a possibility 
 of salvation, but by the grace of God, aud a 
 participation in tlie benefits procured fc r sin- 
 ners, by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ, 
 and at the same time, that God was the hear- 
 er of prayer, the tenderest of fathers, and the 
 best of friends to all who put their trust in 
 him. She early taught them to read their 
 bibles. That this might be done pleasantly 
 she connected with it Mrs. Trimmer's prints 
 of scripture history ; that it might be done 
 with understanding, she made them read, in 
 connection with their bibles, Watts's short 
 view of the whole scripture history, and, as 
 they advanced to a proper age, Newton on 
 the Prophecies ; and such books, as connect 
 sacred with profane history, and the Old with 
 the New Testament; so that the Bible, though 
 written in periods widely remote from each 
 other, might appear to them a uniform, har- 
 monious system of divine truth. Of this 
 blessed book she enjoined upon them daily 
 to read a portion, and to prize it as the 
 standard of fuith aud praefiec; as a com- 
 munication from heaven on eternal concerns; 
 as the word of God pointing out the only- 
 way to salvation; as a letter of love sent 
 from their heavenlv Father to direct their 
 wandering feet to the paths of truth and 
 
MEMOIRS OF 
 
 irappliiess. From it she was tauglit "that 
 foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, 
 but the rod of correction shall drive it far 
 from liini.'^ She therefore, on proper oc- 
 casions, used the rod, but always with dis- 
 cretion and judgnient, sometimes with pray- 
 er, often with tears, but never with anger. 
 She was well acquainted Avitli the plans of 
 llousseau, and other modern reformers, who 
 are for discarding the rod and substituting 
 confinement, and other visionary projects in 
 its place ; but considered them all as inferior 
 in efficacy, to the prudent use of the rod ; and 
 believed that nothing injured the temper less, 
 or more effectually promoted the proper end 
 of punishment in young subjects, than corpo- 
 ral pain, applied judiciously and simultane- 
 ously with the offence ; and that the modern 
 substitutes for the rod often nourished a sul- 
 len obstinacy of temper, without mending the 
 heart or practice. As her children advanced 
 in years, she conducted her sons through a 
 course of education fitting them to enter col* 
 lege, and Avith the help of her tried and ac- 
 complished friend, Miss FuterelL she carried 
 her daughters at home through the several 
 studies taught in boarding schools. In every 
 period of her adult age, whether married or 
 single, when, from accidental circumstances, 
 she was the head of the family, and in health, 
 she daily read to her domestic circle, a por~ 
 
ivms. RAZ^ISAY. 
 
 2<J 
 
 lion of the boly sei-iptures, anti prayed with 
 them ; and frequently on particular occa- 
 sions, with one or more individuals of it, and 
 regularly, every Sunday, with her young white 
 and black fapiily, in addition to catechetical 
 instructions given to both at the sajne time. 
 In case of a temporary separation, extraordi- 
 nary deliverance, providence, misconduct, or 
 even of a quarrel among her boys, she would 
 take the parties and present them with her- 
 self before the throne of Grace, and in a sol- 
 emn address to their common heavenly Fa- 
 ther, and her covenant God, state all the cir- 
 cumstances of the case, and implore of him 
 by his grace, to give them the temper, dispo- 
 sition, and views, which wei'c suitable to their 
 situation and condition, ^ She prized prayer 
 as the courtier does a key, that at all times 
 gives him access to the presence of his sove- 
 reign ; and in all the important transactions 
 of her life, resolved on nothing till she had 
 
 * It is remarkable, that from aiul aftei' the time col. John 
 Laurens was killed in South Carolina, August t27th. 1782, 
 his sister, the subject ot tl»ese memoirs, then in Vigan, 
 never put up a prayer for him, though she was previously 
 in the habit of praying frequeiill}- for him ; and his death 
 was unknown to her for two or three siionths after it had 
 taken place. She mentioned the fact, without pretending 
 to account for it, and added, that she several times wondei*- 
 ed at her omission of that usual part of her duty, and re- 
 solve(' to retire for the purpose of praying for her brother; 
 but that in every such case, some sudden call or other un- 
 expected event interposed to prevent hjpr doing so. 
 
 C2 
 
5.0 MEMOIRS QF 
 
 previously soiii»lit direction of God respect- 
 ing it. 8Iie might be said to live a life of 
 prayer, for she incorporated it ^vitli her dai- 
 ly business, and was so habituated to its con- 
 stant practice, that prayers frequently con- 
 stituted a part of her dreams. Believing 
 most thoroughly that God's providence ex- 
 tends to every event and every circumstance 
 of tlie life of every human being, and sub- 
 scribing to the doctrine of Dr. Leechman, in 
 his excellent sermon on prayer, which she 
 liighly prized, *• that it is as absurd to expect 
 we shall arrive at virtue and happiness with- 
 out prayer, as it would be for the husband- 
 man to hope he shall have his usual crop, 
 though he bestow none of his usual labour 
 asid industry." She practically conformed 
 to the apostolic precept ** pray without ceas- 
 ing," and daily brouglit before her Maker 
 the cases of herself, family, friends, neigh- 
 bours, and sometimes of strangers, whose 
 situation was known to be interesting. 
 
 She was a constant and devout attendant 
 on divine service ; steadily recorded the text, 
 and occasionally made a short analysis of the 
 sermon. * She generally spent a considera- 
 
 * These memorandums, with pious notices of passing 
 providences, prayers, and other religious exercises and 
 records of the state of Mrs. llamsay's mind, on important 
 occasions, were entered by her in books in the form of a 
 diary, out with considerable chasms. For extracts from 
 this diary, see Appendix, !N°. V. 
 
M^S. RAMSAY. 3* 
 
 Me part of the intci-vals of public worship, in 
 catechising and instructing; her chiWren and 
 servants ; in reading with them the Bible and 
 other good books, particularly <* Burkitt's 
 help and guide to Christian families/' In 
 performing this duty, she placed her children 
 around her, and read alternately with them 
 verses in the Bible, and Watts's Psalms and 
 Hymns, or sentences in other religious books, 
 so as to teach them at the same time, by her 
 example, the art of reading with emphasis 
 and propriety. The exercise was occasion- 
 ally varied by reading in the same manner 
 the New Testament in Greek, with her sons, 
 and in French with her daughters. From 
 the seventeenth year of her age, she was a 
 regular, steady, and devout attendant on the 
 communion. In this she found so much 
 comfort, that she regretted absence from it, 
 us a serious loss. She possessed herself of 
 the names of the new members admitted to 
 it from time to time, and recorded =^ them as 
 
 * On one occnslon, to the record of the names of the per- 
 sons lulmittcd to the Cv)mmunion, the foUowhig verses are 
 .s-.i1)joiM'j(i. 
 
 Pity the Nations, O our God, 
 Constrain the world to come; 
 Send thy victorious word abroad. 
 And bring the strangers home. 
 
 We long to see thy churches full. 
 That ail the ransomed race. 
 May with one voice, and heart and soul. 
 Sing thy redeeming grace. 
 
32 
 
 IMEMOIRS OF 
 
 brothers and sisters in Christ, who broke witii 
 lier the bread of life, at the same table of 
 their coninion Lord, and prayed for each in- 
 dividual of them, whether she had any per- 
 sonal acquaintance with lliem or not, and took 
 a pariicular delight in rendering to them, 
 and her other fellow conimunjcarsts, every 
 kind office in her power ; for she had high 
 ideas of the commusiion of saints amont-;; them- 
 selves, as being conjoined into one nnystical 
 body of Christ, throtigliout this world, and 
 partly in heaven, all united nnder one com- 
 mon head, and bound to each other by pecul- 
 iar ties. 
 
 Mrs. Ramsay was uncommonly economi- 
 cal of her lime. She suffered none of it to 
 be wasted. By rising early she secured the 
 Hfiost valuable portion of it for devotion and 
 business. A reasonable part of, every day 
 >vas spent in religious exercises. Much in 
 .J'eading well chosen books, and also in copy- 
 ing original papers for her father and hus- 
 band ;^ much in working, for the accommo- 
 
 * She wrote very fast, and, at the same, a round, distinct, 
 legihle hand. Her father pi-onouiiced her to be the best 
 •clerk he ever employed ; and it is well known to his con- 
 temporaries, in business, that he had many, and that sev- 
 eral of them were very good ones. In addition to many 
 Tviinor services in copying, she transcribed for her husband 
 his History of the American Revolution, Life of Washing- 
 ton, Review of the J'rogiess of medicine in the eighteenth 
 century, and the early pai't of his Univei'sal History, now 
 ready for publication, nor did she desist, till she had traift- 
 cd her daughters to do as she had done. 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 33 
 
 (jatioiioT her family ;'-^ and isuichin teaclung 
 lier ciiildren, and fonulng' theii* minds to vii*- 
 tue, and kno\vkdge,j and often a consid- 
 erable part of it in writing letters:): to her ab- 
 sent friends. In these she was grave or gay 
 
 * In every kind of fenjale cm]»loyinent, slie was very ex- 
 pert, and des\)atched a great de:i! of business in a little time. 
 In reading, writing, and working, she was equally expedi- 
 tious, and in each department, performed as much as could 
 reasonably be expected, from one who was exclusively em- 
 ployed in that alone. 
 
 The amount done in every case was not diminislied by 
 the extremity of heat, in a Carolina summer. On the con- 
 trary, she often impressed on her children, that steady , con- 
 stant light work under cover, diminished the sensation of 
 heat, while it was increased in the case of a listless, com- 
 plaining, unemployed person. 
 
 t" In teaching, Mrs. Ramsay possessed more than ordina- 
 ry resources, and took more than ordinary pains. For her 
 first children, she compiled an English grammar, being 
 dissatisfied with what had been written by Lowth, Ash, and 
 others; butwhenshe became acquainted with Lindlay Mur- 
 ray's writings, she laid aside her own compcnd, and receiv- 
 ed his, as throwing new light on what before was obscure. 
 She taught her children, to read such bO{)ks, as she pointed 
 out to them, with care and attention ; and repeatedly, till 
 the substance, not the words, of what they read, was im- 
 printed on their minds. This she preferred to loading the 
 memory with long extracts, committed verbatim. That 
 they might be exercised in this more profitable way, she 
 px"epared questions, on the most interesting portions of an- 
 cient and modern histoi-y ; particularly, Asiatic, Roman, 
 English, and biblical history. These they were expected 
 to answer from their general know ledge of the subject ; 
 h'M, without committing the answers to memorv. She has 
 left behind her three packets of historic questions of this 
 kind, v.hich were iier text book, in examining her children, 
 v.hen reading historical works, 
 •it.l-'or extracts from the«e letters, sec At>pendix, N°. VI. 
 
o4 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 as the subject required. In writing letters 
 of consolation, to persons in affliction, slie ex- 
 celled. In other eases, w licre fancy was ad- 
 missible, the spi'ightliness of her imagination, 
 gave a brilliasicy to trilles, which imparted 
 to them an interest of wliich they seemed 
 scarcely susceptible. With a few exceptions 
 she declined all visits in the day, as destruc- 
 tive of her plans for making every hour turn 
 to the best account. When the business of 
 the day was ended, she indulged her social 
 habits. The number of books she read, was 
 astonishingly great, and her memory uncom- 
 monly strong, in retaining Wa^ substance of 
 th( ir contents. She could recite nearly the 
 ivliole of Young's Night Thoughts, without 
 book. Psalm and prayer books, were to 
 her unnecessary ; for their contents were 
 imprinted in her mind. With the Holy 
 Scriptures she was intimately acquaint- 
 ed, and could readily quote, or turn to any 
 i.^\U or passage, bearing on any present sub- 
 ject of conversation. The Latin aod Greek 
 classics, she had read in trarsslations, at a 
 very early period. Ey catching from her 
 brother, by studying occasionally his Lat- 
 in grammar, and boo!;s ; and by the aid 
 of an accurate knowledge of the French 
 language, and the general principles of gram- 
 mar, as applied to the Eiiglisli and French 
 languages, she laid such a foundation, that 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 2? 
 
 >Ylien she became tke iiiotlicr of children, foi* 
 their sakes she ran over the Latin and Greek 
 classics, in Ihe short method recommended 
 by Mv, Locke, so as to make her a profitable 
 insti-uctoi* to them, in these languages. With 
 the same views, she began, and to a consid- 
 erable extent prosecuted the study of botany. 
 From the same versatility of genius, and 
 liabits of industry, after she was married, 
 she read witii attention, most of the practi- 
 ^ cal writers on medicine, that are usually put 
 ' into the hands of medical students ; and studi- 
 ed with particular interest, such of them, as 
 treat of the diseases of women^and children. 
 In times of general sickness, when her hus- 
 band was full of business, she frequently 
 shortened his labours, in studying cases of 
 peculiar difiicuhy, by running over his books, 
 and iinding similar cases ; and collecting in 
 one view, for liis inspection, the opinions and 
 practice of standard medical authors, on dis- 
 eases of the same nature. She was familiar 
 with most of the modern works of genius, 
 taste, ar»d imagination, written in the English 
 and French language and enjoyed them. In 
 solid learning, she was not deficient. Locke's 
 essay on the Human Understanding, AVatts's 
 Logic, Improvement of the Mind, Philosoph- 
 ical Essays, and other works of science, were 
 the studies of her youth. To these, as she 
 grew up, she added natural and civil history,. 
 
 \ 
 
S6 
 
 WEMOmS OF 
 
 biography, astronomy, clironology, pliiloso- 
 phy, voyages, travels, &c. Isi divinity, she 
 read much of what was practical, but rarely 
 looked into any thing that was controversial. 
 A few fundamental doctrines, sucli as free 
 salvation, by the atoning sacrifice of the coe- 
 qual Son of God, and sanclification by the Spir- 
 it, she considered as essenlial, pjm] worth con- 
 tending for ; but disputes on minor, unessen- 
 tial points, she considered as injurious to 
 peace, harmony, and the best interests of re- 
 ligion, and' would not waste her time in stud- 
 ying tliem, any fartlier than r.iaking up her 
 opinion on pas'tieular points, from wliat ap- 
 peared to her own mind, to be revealed \n the 
 \vopd of God. If that was silent, or did not 
 decide for oragrlnst any opinion or pi'aetice, 
 she took no fartJier pains in its investigation. 
 Though she hig!ily delighted in the elFusions 
 of genius, and elegancies of faic writing, she 
 found great profit arid pleasure in reading 
 the plain, but substantial, practical vvorks of 
 some of llie old divines, of the seventeenth, 
 and early periods of the eighteeiith century. 
 Baxter, Flavel, Boston, Owen, AH :m, Ih^eiin- 
 court, Henry, Burkitt, Watts, and Doddridge, 
 and some others of the same stamp, were her 
 favourite authors. These she read with at- 
 tention, and underscored with a pencil such 
 passages, as were most interesting. From 
 Henry's Exposition of the Scriptures, she 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 37 
 
 made considerable transcripts, Avliich have 
 been found in packets of her \\r;tin<^'. She 
 felt a partieuhu* interest in the prosperity of 
 a family in Charleston, descended from the 
 famous riiomas jjoston. of Ettrick, in Scot- 
 land, author of a book, entitled, •* The Cs^ook 
 in the Lot, or the Sovercij^nty and Wisdom 
 of G( >d, in the aiHietions of man ;'' from the 
 reading of which, she had received much 
 comfort and benefit. 0\ven on i'ldwelling 
 Sin, and FlaveJ on Providence, and on keep- 
 ins; the heart, she repeatedly read. Anmng 
 her papers has been found an abridgment of 
 the last mentioned work, made by herself, 
 and written with her own hand.* 
 
 ^ ABRIDCMEXT. 
 
 'I'o keep the heart, is curefiilly to preserve it from sin, 
 •which (lisnrtlers it, and maiiitain that spiritual frame, uhich 
 fits it for a life of coinniunion with God ; and this keeping,- 
 of the heart, iiichides in it, these six acts. 1st. Frequent 
 examinations of the frame <if the heai't turning in, and ex- 
 amining how the case stands with it. 
 
 2d. Deep humiliation, under a sense of soul disorders, 
 and heart evils 
 
 3d. Earnest prayer to God, for heart purifying and recti- 
 fying gJ ace, when sin iiath defiled and disordered it. 
 
 4th. The imposing of strong engjigements and honds upon 
 ourselves,' to walk more accui-fctely with God, and avoid tiie 
 occasions, wherehy the heart may he induced to sin. 
 
 5th. A constant, holy jealousy, over our own hearts ; 
 and, 
 
 6th. A realizing sense of God's presence with us, and a 
 setting the f.ord always hefore us. 
 
 To keep th • heart, is hard work ; constfint work, and 
 the most impoitant work; the honour of God ; the sincer- 
 
 9 
 
38 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 From Ibis strict diHcipHne of the heait, 
 ol»tained by the means before mentiuhtd, 
 
 il of our profession ; the beauty of our conversHtion ; the 
 C'Vifort of cur souls; the improvement of our graces and 
 oui stability in the hour of tenipt-Uion, are all wrapt up in, 
 and dependent on our care and sin«erity', in heart work. 
 
 JMoHves for keeping the heart. 
 
 1st. The studying and keeping the heart, helps the un- 
 derstanding in the deep mysteries of religioii. 
 
 2d. It preserves it against the infection of <laiigerous er- 
 rors. 
 
 3d. It is one of the best evidences of sincerity. 
 4tii. All ordinances would be fruitful, sweet, and com- 
 fortable, if our hearts were better kept. 
 
 5th. Vcquamtance with the heart, furnishes a fountain of 
 matter f<.i- prayer. 
 
 Ciii. B* k.eping the heart, tlie decayed pou er of religion, 
 will be ret !)vered aajong professors 
 
 7tii. By diliger.tly keepn»g the heart, v.e shall prevent, 
 and remove scandals and stunihling blocks out of the world. 
 8lh. A heart welt kept, will fit us for any condition, God 
 casts us into, or any service he hath to use ns in. 
 
 9th. Diligently to keep the heart would exceedingly 
 sweeten the communion of saints. 
 
 10th. By keeping the heart, the comforts of the spirit, 
 and precious influences of all ordinances wouUI be fixed, 
 aiid much longer preserved on the soid than they now are. 
 Look over these ten special benefits; weigh them in a 
 jiist balance Are they small matters? Is it a small thing 
 to have thv weak understanding assisted ; thine endanger- 
 ed soul antidoted ; thy sincerity cleared; thy communion 
 with God sweetened \ Is it a small thing to have the de- 
 Caved power of ^'Odliness revived ? all fatal scandals re- 
 moved ; the cooimuaion of Saints restored to its primitive 
 glory, and the inflaenees of ordinances, abiding in the souls 
 of Saints? if th.se be no common blessiiigs, no small bene- 
 fits ; tiK'n surely it is a great duty to keep the heart with, 
 ail diligence.. 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. S9 
 
 eoiisequcnces resuhed wliieli were not eon- 
 templaU^il. In attcrulance on the coininujiion, 
 
 special means for keeping' the heart. 
 
 Means Ist. ^\ oul«1 yon thus keep your heart as hath 
 been reconimende«l ; tlicu funiisfi you!- hearts nehly with 
 the word of (jO(I, whicii is tlie best preservMive I'gvin^-.t sin. 
 
 *2d Call your hemts t"i etpjetitly to an account, if ever 
 you mean to kee]) tlieut with dofl. 
 
 3A. Take heed of plunging into such a multiplicity of 
 earthly business as you cannot manage without neglecting 
 your main business. 
 
 4th. CarefliHy obser%'e the heart's first declensions /"rom 
 God, and stop tlieni there. 
 
 5th. Take heed of losing the liveliness, and sweetness, of 
 j'our communion with God, lest thereby your hearts be 
 loosed oif from God. 
 
 6th. Habituate thy heart to spiritual meditation, if thotl 
 •wouldst have it freed from base burdensome diversion 
 
 Words of consolation to those who are plying heart work, 
 groaning and weeping in secret, over the hairiness, pric'e, 
 earthliness, and vanity of th« ir hearts ; fearing and trem- 
 bling over the experienced deceitfulness, and falseness ojf 
 them. 
 
 1st. This argues the heart to be upi-ight and honest, 
 ■whatever thy other gifts and abilities may be. 
 
 2d. God would never leave thee un<ler so many heart 
 troubles, and burdens, if he intended not thy real benefit 
 thereby 
 
 .3d. God will shortly put a blessed end to all these 
 troubles, cares, and watching. The time is coming whea 
 thy heart shall be as thou wouldst have it, when thou sh dt 
 be disciimgsjd of all these cares, fears, and sorrows, and 
 ne\(.r cry out. Oh ni\ hai-(l, my proud, my vain, mj eurth- 
 ly heart, any more. When all darkness sljall be banished 
 from thy uitderstanding and thou sh;dt clearly discover all 
 truths in God. that crystal f.-cean of truth, when all vanity 
 sh i!i be purged out of thy thoughts, and they be everlast- 
 ingly, ravishingly and delightfully entertained and exercised 
 upon that supreme goodiiess, and infinite excellency of G(,d, 
 from who'H they shall never start any more, like a brf^ken 
 hrn . And, as fir thy pri.le, passion, earthliness, and all 
 
49 
 
 ^MEMOIRS OF 
 
 and other religious exercises, ilw. subject of 
 these memoirs seldom had any wandering 
 
 the other matters of tliy complniiit aiul trouble, it shall be 
 said of them, as ol" the Egyptians to Israel, "Stand still, 
 and see the Salvation of God." These corruptions thou 
 seest to day ; henc^foi-th, thou shalt see them no more for 
 ever; when thou shjilt lay down t!iy weapons of prayers, 
 tears, and groans ; and put on the armour of light, not to 
 fight, but to triumph in. 
 
 Lord, when shall this blessed day come ? how long, how 
 long, holy and true ? My soul waiteth for thee ; come my 
 bel'ived.. come, <J come quickly, and deliver me from this 
 body of sin and death. 
 
 Jiuies to keep the heart from distractions by vain thoiights 
 in times of ihity. 
 
 Help 1st. Sequester yourselves from all earthly employ- 
 ments, and set apart some ti> ie for solemn pre])aralion to 
 meet God in duty ^'h my soul, leave trifling , now be 
 composed, watchful, and serious; this is no comn)on work; 
 it is GofI work, .soid work, eternitv work. Pause a while 
 tipoii thy si'is, wants, and trojibles ; keep thy thoughts a 
 while in these, before tlsou add ixss thyself to God. 
 
 2d. liavit g corapcsed i,hy heart by previous meditation, 
 presently set a guard upon thy senses. 
 
 3d. Beg of God, a mortified fancy ; when thy fancy is 
 more mortified, thv thoughts will be more orderly and 
 fixed. 
 
 4th. If thou wouldst kcej) thy heart from these vain ex- 
 cursions, realize to thvseif by faith, the holy and awful 
 presence of G'>d in duties 
 
 5th. \'aintain a praying frame of heart in the intervals 
 of <Iuty 
 
 6th. Rndeavour to engage, and raise thy affections to 
 God, in duty, if thou wouldst have thy disti-nclions cured. 
 
 7th. Mourn over the matter to God, and call in assistance 
 from heaven, where vain thoughts assault thy heart in 
 dutv, 
 
 Sth. Look upon the success, and sweetness of thy duties, 
 as very much depending upou the keeping of thy heart 
 elosely with God in them. 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 ■44 
 
 thouglits. What was begun Avith a view to 
 relii^'ioiis improvement, extended to olhei» 
 
 9th. Look upon it as a great discovery of the sincerity, 
 or hypocrisy of your homts, according as you find them 
 careful or careless, in this matter. 
 
 lOth. Jt will be of special use to keep thy heart with iiod, 
 in duties to consider what influence ail tliy duties have on 
 thine eternity. 
 
 To this is subjoined the following impressive prayer, and 
 act of contrition. 
 
 •' 'iSlli. August. 1705. * An<l now having lately read this 
 little book of Mr. Flavel's, on Keeping the Heart, w ith 
 great attention; and endeavoured to fix in my memory the 
 above rules ; may (jod enable me to profit by them, to la- 
 bour to keep my heart with all diligence, that so I may 
 liave an evidence to my own mind, that I am in earnest 
 about religion; and that whenever my Lord shall come, he 
 may find me thus watching, and thus praying; Lord i am 
 weak, I am vile. 1 am a pooi- backsliding creature, oftea 
 wandering, turning back to folly and relapsing into sins, 
 over which I hope<l 1 h.ui gained some power. <.h hold, 
 ihou me uj) ; watch for me, and so shall 1 be safe. Uh 
 keep me from h'lu, or remove me from the land of sinning. 
 Uh thou, who scarchest the heart, and triest the reins, thou 
 knowcst that sin is nij greatest burden ; and yet alas, too 
 often 1 fall into it; so that srjoietimes, I am ready to de- 
 spair, and my soul is filled with the anguish of remoi'se and 
 repentance ; and yet I am not cured. Uh sweet Jesus help- 
 Uli friend of sinners, save. I know that it is an evil, and a 
 ]»itter thii/g to depart from God ; and yet i am bent to 
 backsliding ; none can help but thou, Oh Christ; trembling 
 I come to thee, whom 1 have so often ofiended ; yet to 
 whom .should I go, but to thee, who alone hast pardo;-. and 
 eternal life for such a wretcli, such a rebel, such a daily, 
 hourls', ofi'ender as f am. 
 
 *' Lord, my hands hang down from faintness in the way 
 of duty, and my feet go luiaely in the path of holiness Oh 
 let thy grace deliver me from every weight, especially 
 from my most easily besetting sin ; that so i. either any 
 hidden iniquity nor presumptuous transgression may ever 
 have dominion over me." 
 1)2 
 
42 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 niaKers. From habit she acquired such 
 complete cominajid oves^ het* thoughts, that 
 she could lix tliem by lui act of her will on 
 science or business as well as on religion, so 
 as to confine them to their proper object for 
 the time without interruption. 
 
 lii disclia!'gi?>g relative duties, Mrs. Ram- 
 say was exesnpiiirj. As a cliiSd, she had a 
 high opinioi) of |>arental authority; and to it 
 she conceived herself as owing implicit obe- 
 dience in every case not plainly inconsistent 
 with the duly due to her God. It was there- 
 fore a standing order to her servants, with- 
 out a moiuent's delay, and without announc- 
 ing the circumstance, to call her. not only 
 fi'o'Ai business, {>ul from her most |?rivale re- 
 tirement v/hensoever her father called for 
 her services. She hm\ no scruple of doing 
 that for him on Sundays, about which she 
 had scruples of doi^Lg for herself. She rea- 
 so'sed thus; "^^ Children, ob{*y your parersts 
 in all things, for this is well pleasing to 
 the Lord," Col, iii. 20. is a divine com- 
 mand. The same antlmrity which enacted 
 the foisflh commandment also enacted the 
 fifth, and the minor duty should yield to the 
 major. Never wa^ there a daughter nmre 
 de^o^ed, attaelied, and obedient to her pa- 
 rent than she was ; and !ier conduct flowed, 
 not from instinct, accident, or exansple. but 
 from principle. la the same manner she 
 
MRS. ramsaV. 34 
 
 liad delcrmincii wliat were her conjugal du- 
 ties. She was well acquainted with the plau- 
 sible reasonings of modern theorists, who 
 contend for the equality of the sexes ; and 
 few females could support their claims to 
 that equjility on better grounds than she 
 might advance ; but she yiehled all preten- 
 sions on this score, in conformity to the 
 positive declarations of holy writ, of which 
 the following weie full io the point, and in 
 lier opinion outweighed whole volumes of 
 human reasoning. ** In sorrow, thou slialt 
 bring forth children, and thy desire shall be 
 to thy husband, and he shall rule over (bee." 
 Gen. iii. 16. •* Wives, submit yourselves 
 liuto your own husbands as unto the Lord. 
 For the husband is the head of the wife, 
 even as Christ is the head of the chui'ch ; 
 asid he is the Saviour of the body. Therefore, 
 as the church is subject unto Christ, so let 
 the wives be to their own husbands in every 
 thing." Eph. v. 22, 23. 2*. In practice, as 
 T/ell as theory, she acknowledged the de- 
 pendent, subordinate condition of her sex ; 
 and considered it as a part of the curse de- 
 nounced on Eve, as being <* the first in the 
 ti'ansgression." 1 Tim. ii. 13, 14. The most 
 self denying duties of the conjugal relations 
 being thus established on a divine founda- 
 ti(m, and illustrated by those peculiar doc- 
 trines of revelation on which she hung aU 
 
'^'4' MEMOIRS OF 
 
 her hopes, the other dudes followed by an 
 easy train of reasoning, and were affijction- 
 ately performed. In this manner, the sub- 
 ject of these memoirs used her bible as a 
 system of practical ethics, from which she 
 acquired a Ivnowledge of her true station, 
 and also deduced such excellent rules of con- 
 duct in life, as might be expected from cor- 
 rect principles.* As a parent who had 
 
 * To illustrate this, in detail, might excite a smile. Suf- 
 fice it thei'efore to observe in general, that these reason- 
 ings, from scripture, on the condition and duties of wives 
 ■were not imposed or even suggested to the subject of these 
 memoirs. Tbey were entirely her own ; and had such a 
 practical influence on her opinions, that she received the 
 Htte'itions of her husband as favours, and was in the habit 
 of subscribing herself in lettej-s to him his " obliged and 
 grateful wife." These seed ideas expanded into princi|)ies 
 of action, which led her to make all her conduct subservi- 
 ent to her husband's happiness. To this end she gave up 
 every separate scheme, and identified her views and pur- 
 suits with his, and arranged all her domestic concerns, so 
 as most effectually to promote his comfort, anticipated his 
 wishes, alleviated his cares, charged herself with the edu- 
 cation of her children, the management of h;.'r servants 
 and "family uffairs, so as to leave for liim little else to do 
 than to follow the bent of hisovvn inclinations, with as com- 
 plete e\emption from the burden of domestic cares as was 
 possible ; and in addition assisted him, as far as was in her 
 power, in his professional labours and studies. Like her 
 father, who seldom slept more than four hours in the twen- 
 ty-four, she slept vei^' little, and that so lightly that the 
 smallest noise awak»td her. She was therefore, the first to 
 receive professional messages in the hours allotted to re- 
 pose. After getting the necessary information, she so ar- 
 ranged matters that these unseasonable calls were attended 
 with the least possible inconvenience to hev husband. In 
 copying for him, and tracing, through a variety of authors, 
 
3IRS. R AIMS AY. 45 
 
 brous^ht cliiWren into a world of sin and mis- 
 ery, without their consent, she considered 
 herself as bound, in common justice, to do 
 every thing in lier power for theii* comfort 
 in passing through it. She thouglit no pains 
 too great, no sacrilices too hard, provided 
 lier children were advanced by them. In 
 addition to her steady attention to their edu- 
 cation, she exerted herself to keep them 
 constantly in good humour ; gave them eve- 
 ry indulgence compatible with their best in- 
 terests; partook with them in their sports; 
 and in various ways amused their solitary 
 hours so as often to drop the mothei* in the 
 companion and friend ; took a lively interest 
 in all their concerns, and made every practi- 
 ca!»!e exertion for their benefit. From the 
 bible she was taught. ♦• Fathers, provoke not 
 your children to anger, lest they be discour- 
 aged.'' (jol. iii. 21. On this iexi she often 
 coin;nentfr'<l verbally, and every day (»racti- 
 cally. From it she drew several rules of 
 conduct in her behaviour toward hev chil- 
 dren. As a child, she was for implicit obe- 
 dience, but as a mother was very moderate 
 in urging her parental rights, and avoided. 
 
 any subject on which he occasionally asked her sid, she 
 shortened his literarv labours. Sucli wei-e the i>riiic'ples 
 and conducJ of a wife wiio hf.d ro.ul Marv Wooistoucraft's 
 l{itj[hts of Woinen, but studied hvv bible Avith care and at- 
 tention, as the standard of faith and practice. 
 
46 ISIlEMOIRS OF 
 
 as far as consistent with a strict education, 
 every thing wliich might *» provoke her chil- 
 dren to anger." Under tliis general head 
 she considered as forhidden, unnecessary se- 
 verity, sarcasms and all taunting, harsli, un- 
 kind language; overbearing conduct, liigh 
 toned claims of sui>eriority ; capricious or 
 whimsical exertions of authority, and several 
 other particulars, calculated to irritate chil- 
 ilren or fill them with terror. On the other 
 hand, she considered parents as required by 
 this precept to curb their own tempers ; to 
 bridle their passions ; to make proper allow- 
 ances for indiscretions and follies of youth; 
 and <o behave toward their otFsprings in the 
 most conciliatory manner, so as to secure 
 tlit^r love and aifections on the score of grati- 
 tude. These and several other rules of con- 
 duct in the discharge of relative duties were 
 not taken up at random, but derived from 
 reason and reflectioti. and especially from an 
 attentive consideration of the preceptive part 
 of the word of God. Happy would it be for 
 society if all its members used their bibles 
 for similar purposes. 
 
 The reader will by this time expect to be 
 informed that a person so industrious in busi- 
 ness, with such moderate views of worldly 
 enjoyment, and so devoted to God and active 
 in his service, would be crowned with a large 
 proportion of temporal blessings. But this 
 
3\mS. RAIVISAY. 4„' 
 
 was not always the ease. With rier^ pros- 
 perity and adversity alternated. Good atid 
 evil iollowed each other in sueeession. For 
 several of the last years of her life, in ad- 
 dition to long continued and frequent attacks 
 of painful disease, sufficient' to have laid by 
 a less active person, she had to stru.^gle with 
 restricted cii'cunistances. From several un- 
 propitious events, pcrplexini^ embarrass^ 
 ments resulted.^ From whatever source 
 
 * Nearly the whole of Mrs. Ramsey's ])atornal estate 
 consisted of unproductive Georgia funds. Aviiich, tVom the 
 unsettled stale of our foreign relations fur the last iifleeii 
 years of her life uoiild either not sell, cr ii' previously sold, 
 v.ere not paid for. 'I"he most valuable part of it, fcr the 
 eighteen years it was in her ]>ossession, jM'oduced nothing 
 but annual ta.\es. The bulk, of the residue, tliough sold in 
 the year 1793, has realized so little, that the surn originaliv 
 due thereon, 21,4'2S dollars, instead of being lessened bV 
 payments, had iu the course of the last thirteen years of 
 her married life, increasei!, by the accunuihition of interesi, 
 }o upward of 30,000 doll ;irs, of which neither p!incipal nor 
 interest could be commanded. The hurricane of 1804 frus- 
 trated a verbal contract tor the sale of anoth-er portion of 
 her paternal Georgia lands, for five thousand poun<!s ster- 
 ling, which still remains unsold and unj»roductive. Two 
 houses, which descended to her fi'om her uncle, James 
 Laurens, were burnt in the great fire of 1796. The hurri- 
 cane of 1804 also fruslrnted a verbal contract for the sale of 
 some of her husband's lauds for 24,0CK) dollars, wliich still 
 remains unproductive ; and in addition 25,000 dollars paid 
 by him between tlie years 1792 and 1797 toward complet- 
 ing the Santee canal, have hitherto produced no income 
 lo him or any one else, but one and a half per cent, on the 
 capital, and that only for two years of the eighteen which 
 have elapse<l since his first advances were made toward 
 this publicly beneficial, but hitherto privately ruinouar 
 project. 
 
48 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 tliey oviginated, the subject of these me- 
 moit's had no agency in producing; them, nor 
 any ground for self rejH'oacli as being in any 
 Vfwy accessory to tliem. The battle is not 
 always to the strong;, nor the race to ti»e 
 swift : nor is success in the pursuits of life 
 invariably the effect of industry, econonsy, 
 and moderation in expenses. Respecting 
 these things there is an overruling Provi- 
 dence. The continuance or the interruption 
 of health, the power to get or retain wealJh 
 come from God The subject of these me- 
 moirs was neither the first nor the last of 
 thf> favourites of Cfis'ist whom he has led to 
 heaven otlierwise tlsan by a path strewn 
 with flowers. God does not always suffer 
 his children to pass through life without af- 
 ilictions and sorrows, lest they should forget 
 that this is not their abiding city ; lest their 
 desires after the heavenly inheritance should 
 be cooled or extinguished. These apparent 
 evils have a certain, though to us a secret 
 connection with our future and most injport- 
 ant destinies. They are necessary links in 
 the chain conducting from earth to heaven, 
 and make us quit our eager grasp of the one, 
 and lix our affections on the other. The 
 storms of adversity, in this life, will make us 
 enjoy, with a higher relish, the unclouded 
 serenity of that which is to come. In her 
 case, the result, though painful to her feel- 
 
MRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 49 
 
 ings, was highly favouraWc to her improve- 
 ment in the christian viitues of palienre and 
 resignation. No doubt exists of her liow 
 wearing a brighter crown, and enjoying a 
 greater harvest of happiness, as a reward for 
 having borne her reverses of fortune, and 
 also long continued painful diseases, not only 
 without murmuring, but with clieerfuhiess. 
 In sickness and adversity, slic was tlie same 
 self possessed, unrepining, submissive, satis- 
 fied christian she had been in the days of 
 her health and prosperity, and was discon- 
 tented with nothing but her heart. Ilcr 
 maxim was not to complain of God, but to 
 God. To him she went with all her burdens 
 and cares,' and sweetly reposed on his Al- 
 mighty arm. Her unabated eontidencc in 
 her Maker; her unconditional submission 
 and cheerful resignation to his will, took 
 away from adversity its gloom, and tlirew 
 over it a cheerful iiglit. The workings of 
 lier mind, undes* these pressures, as I'eeorded 
 in her manuscripts, prove her high attain- 
 ments in the christian life, uml were probably 
 one cause of them. In all her distresses, 
 the burden of sin lay heavier on her mind 
 than the burden of outward troubles. She 
 was much more reconciled to death as clos- 
 ing the scene of her sinning, than that of 
 her suffering. SJie found great satisfaction 
 in reading Drelincourt on Deaths and 
 
 E 
 
50 
 
 MEMOIRS OF 
 
 ^\aUs's World to Come. Sliortty before 
 iier iast sickness, she brought to her husband 
 unci requested him to read a speech delivered 
 a fsundred jeai"s ago at the grave of a pious 
 person by (jie Hev. Mr. Peter Sterry, whieli 
 is preserved in the 352d page of Watts's 
 World to Come. In it she had underscored 
 the iollowmg sentiments as expressive of her 
 leelmgs, wjth respect to the contemplated 
 approaching coujuiitment of her body to the 
 grave, and ils consequent dissolution therein. 
 - We do for ourselves and for this our deai-lv 
 beloved m the Lord accept of tliee. O'^rave 
 and readily deliver up her body to thee. In 
 is a body that hath been weakened an'l' 
 weak-ied with long affliction and anguish : >ve 
 freely give it unio thee ; receive it, and let is 
 have m thee a quiet rest from all its labours.: 
 Aor thus we read it written of thee, * Therii 
 the wicked cease from troubling, and there 
 the weary be at rest/ 
 
 " But'we know thee, O grave, to be also 
 a devourer, and y^t we can freely deliver uii 
 the body unto thee. There was hi it a con- 
 tracted corruptibility, dishonour and weak- 
 ness ,• take them as <hy pi'oper i>rey ; they 
 belong' to thee, and w€ would not withhold 
 them from thee. Freely .walJow them up 
 ior e^ver, that they may appear* no more. 
 - let know, O grave, that there is in the 
 , considered as once united to sucJi it 
 
MRS. RAMSAY, 
 
 51 
 
 sonl, a divine relation to the Lord of life, and 
 this thou must not, thou canst not dissolve 
 nor destroy. But know, and even hefore tliee, 
 and over thee be it spoken, that there is a 
 season hastening wherein we shall expect it 
 again from thee in incorruption, honour, and 
 power. 
 
 ** We now sow it unto thee in dishonour; 
 but expect it again returned from thee in 
 glory. We now sow it unto thee in weak- 
 ness ; we expect it again in power. We now 
 sow it unto thee a natural body ; we look for 
 it again from thee a spiritual body.'' 
 
 The life of Miss Carter was ©ne of the last 
 books Mrs. Ramsay i*ead ; and she indulged 
 the pleasing anticipation of speedily forming 
 an acquaintance with a woman of her fervent 
 piety and great attainments. But of all the 
 inhabitants of heaven, she longed most for 
 the acquaintance of Dr. Watts, whose divine 
 songs, most of which she had committed to 
 memory, had administeivd much to her com- 
 fort by night and by day. 
 
 From the first moment of her last sickness 
 she had a 'presentiment that she would not 
 survive it. This gave her no alarm. Slic 
 made preparations for, and arranged the cir- 
 cumstances of her funeral, with the same 
 calmness and self possession she would have 
 done in the days of her best health, when 
 preparing for a journey or voyage- She 
 
^- IMEMOIRS OF 
 
 directed that her funeral should be private; 
 lier eoilin plain and uithout a i>laie; that 
 J}v, Kijilinshead should pcrforjij iiis niiniste- 
 riiil dtiiits (m tlie occasion in her* own house, 
 before a few of her most particular friends* 
 Her coffin was accordingly made of Carolina 
 cedar. After she had given these directions, 
 her disease seemed to \ield.; but she insisted 
 that her feelings convinced her to <he con- 
 trary. She suffered grievous pains in sundry 
 periods of her last illness. To assist her in 
 supj)orting under them she deliberately sur- 
 veyed her manifold sins as the procuring 
 cause of all pain, and also took a distinct 
 view of the sufferings of Christ, and then 
 asked herself, shall not I who have so griev- 
 ously sinned, quietly submit to pain, which 
 I deserve, since the innocent Jesus suffered 
 so much for me ? On the last day but one of 
 her life she lay for some considerable time 
 in a warm bath. While there, she directed 
 the following hymn from a collection of 
 hymns j>resented to her by the countess of 
 Huntingdon, to be read to her. 
 
 When langiior and disease invade 
 Tills trembling' house of clay, 
 'I'is sweet to look be3'0nd our cage* 
 And lonjj to fly away. 
 
 Sweet to look inward and attend 
 The whispers of his love ; 
 Sweet to look upward to the place 
 Where Jesus dwells above. 
 
IkfRS. RAMSAY. 
 
 S3 
 
 Sweet to look back and see my name 
 In life's tail- book set down; 
 Sweet to look forward and behold 
 Eternal joys my own. 
 
 Sweet to reflect how grace divine 
 My sins on Jesus ifiid ; 
 Sweet to remember that his blood 
 My debt of suft''riug paid. 
 
 Sweet in his righteousness to standj 
 Which saves from second death ; 
 Sweet to exiierience, day by day, 
 His Spirit's quick'ning breath. 
 
 Sweet on his faithfulness to rest, 
 Whose love can never end ; 
 Sweet on his covenant of grace 
 For all things to depend. 
 
 Sweet in the confidence of foilli 
 To trust his firm decrees ; 
 Sweet to lie passive in his hands 
 And know no will but his. 
 
 If such ti)e sweetness of the sti'eams. 
 What must tlie fountain be, 
 AVhere saints and angels draw the bliss 
 Immediately from l bee. 
 
 She repeated the two last lines oi* every verse, 
 with eyes directed to heaven, as expressive 
 of their coincidence Avith her views. She 
 Lad frequently, in the conrsc of her sickness, 
 given animated exhortations to her childreu 
 and others to make choice of God for tljeir 
 portion, and also particular directions how 
 to manage the ftimily after she was gone. 
 About four o'clock, r. m. June 10th. 1811, 
 
 E2 
 
54 IVIEMOIRS, &c. 
 
 slie asked Iier luisbaud and children if they 
 were willinj^ to give her up. They evaded 
 tlie (juestion ; but she in direct terms in- 
 formed them that she had sometimes felt a 
 repugnance to death on their accounts, but 
 assured them tfiat God had now made her 
 entirelj willing to give them all up; and in 
 about an hour after expired. 
 
APPENDIX, ]\«. 1. 
 
 XETTERS FROM HENRY XiURENS TO MAR- 
 THA lAUREXS. 
 
 Philadelphia, August 18, 1771. 
 
 My dearest Patsy, remember my precepts, 
 be dutiful, kind, and good to your aunt ; learn 
 to prevent all ber wislies and commands ; 
 you can do so if you please, God lias blessed 
 you ^vi(b sufficient abilities. Let all your 
 leading, your study, and your practice tend 
 to make you a ^visc a,nd a virtuous woman, 
 ratber tban a fine lady ; tbc former cbaiacter 
 always comprebends tbe latter ; but tbe mod- 
 ern fine lady, according to common accepta- 
 tion, is too often found to be deficient botli 
 in wisdom and virtue. Strive tben, my dear- 
 est girl, to be virtuous, dutiful, aftable, coui't^ 
 ecus, modest ; and be assured tbat you will 
 become a fine lady. Set God before your 
 eyes, my dear cbild ; pray to bim ; place your 
 Tvbole confidence in bim : nu(\ strive to do bis 
 ^ill ; so sball you never be dismayed. 
 
•"»^ LETTERS FROM HENRY LAURENS 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Westjninster, J\fay 18, 1774. 
 
 Jjy DEAR PATSV, 
 
 I HAVE recollected your request for a pair 
 of globes ; therefore, 1 have wrote to Mr. 
 Grubb to ship a pair of the best eighteen 
 inch, with caps and a book of directions, and 
 to add a case of neat instruments, and one 
 dozen Middleton's best pencils, marked M. 
 L. directed to your uncle, who will deliver 
 them to you. When you are measuring (he 
 sui'face of this world, remeuiber you are to 
 act a part on it, and think of a plumb pud- 
 dins: * and other domestic duties. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Charleston, S.C. Feb. 29, 177C. 
 
 MY DEAR DAUGHTER, 
 
 WitEN I look around me, and behold in- 
 creasing preparations for civil war ; every man 
 
 * The pleasantry about the plumb pudding, had its effect. 
 iMiss Laurens made a pudding before she began to make 
 use of her globes, and profited by the hint, that the knowl- 
 edge of house vvifery was as much a part of female educ2< 
 tion, as a knoAvledge of geography. 
 
 Editos. 
 
TO MARTHA LAURENS. SjT 
 
 seeming bent nnd determined to carry Hiose 
 preparations into execution to tlie last ex- 
 tremity; when, therefore, I consider our es- 
 tates in this count I'y as being on the very prec- 
 ipice of bankruptcy, how can 1 forbear la- 
 menting, what w ill become of my dear sister, 
 ■what will became of my dear Patsy and Pol- 
 ly, in case of my brother's death. Not only 
 tears, but irresistible groans accompany this 
 afflicting inquiry ; after a moment's pain, I 
 console myself by this reply ; ** God will take 
 eare of them, that God who led your ances- 
 tors through a cruel persecution, and through 
 a wilderness a hundred years ago, and you 
 through ten thousand dangers, will not for- 
 sake your sister nor your children. Your 
 brother will do well, and be made the guard- 
 ian of your fatherless children after you are 
 slaughtered." M;^ dear child, I could fill 
 pages with accounts of causes for lamenta- 
 tion ; but alas, what good fruit would sucli 
 accounts produce ; I will not grieve your 
 young heart by a recital of afflictions which 
 are the portion of age. and which I ought to 
 bear alone. Neverlheless, it is my duty to 
 warn you again, as 1 did in my last letter, to 
 prepare yourself for a reverse of fortune, 
 prepare for the trial of earning your daily 
 bread by daily labour. This, whether it be 
 matter of affliction, whether it be a subject 
 for grief or not, will according to present ap- 
 
58 LETTERS FROM HENRY LAURENS 
 
 pearaiices by your portion. My love for you 
 constrains me to qive you timely notice. I 
 have done so with an aching heart and over- 
 sowing eyes. Methinks 1 hear you reply, 
 " bnt, my dear papa, wiiy will you make a 
 sacrifice of your fortune, and hazard the hap- 
 piness of your children ; labour day and night 
 to earn poverty for yourself and them." I 
 answer briefly, *• It is the will of God that 
 it should be so, and he gives me resolution to 
 concur in and to submit to his will." Now 
 act your part well my dear; love God, and 
 all things will work together for your good. 
 I would proceed, and advise you how to act, 
 but you are in an excellent school. You learn 
 your duty every day from sensible and pious 
 friends. Follow their counsel and you will 
 be happy. 
 
 What money I now have in Enjrland, is de- 
 voted to the service of your uncle, aunt, your 
 brothers, yourself and sister 1 do not know 
 that I shall ever be able to add one penny to 
 that small stock. It will be wisdom, it will 
 be piety and a proof of gratitude in your eld- 
 er brother and you, to consume as little as 
 possible, in order tliat there may be more for 
 the service of your dear uncle and aunt, and 
 for the little ones who cannot help them- 
 selves. It would please me, it would rejoice 
 me, to hear that you had cheerfully entered 
 upon your new scene of life ; that you eara- 
 
TO MARTHA LAURENS. 
 
 ■59 
 
 c(l as miicli evcrv day bv your needle, as 
 would pay your daily expenses. 
 
 It is melanclioly to see the abuse of many 
 good houses in this town, ^vliich ai'e now made 
 barracks for the country militia, Avho strip the 
 paper hangings, chop wood upon parlour 
 floors, and do a thousand such improper acts; 
 but alas, they are still good enough for burn- 
 ing. We are assured, that if the king's ships 
 and troops cannot easily conquer the town, 
 they will burn it; and we know if they do 
 conquer it, there are men here determined to 
 put the torch witli their own hands, and to 
 leave them no shelter, nor any cover for those 
 >vho Vtould join them. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Charleston, S.C. JMarch 14, 1776, 
 
 MY DEAR CHILD, 
 
 The men of war at Georgia, have swept 
 Mr. Arthur Middleton's planJation upon Ha- 
 yannah river, of aLurnt sixty five negroes. 
 %Vright's Savannah is within three or four 
 miles of it ; probably some solitary escaping 
 man may come within two or tliree days, to 
 inform me of like mischiefs done there, and 
 at Altamaha, by those Sabeans and Clialde- 
 
0(^ LETTEHS FROM HENRY LAURENS 
 
 ans. Be it so, I will ritill say, " Blessed be 
 the najiie of the Lord." 
 
 iROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Charleston, S.C. March U, 1776. 
 
 MY DEAR CHILD, 
 
 The sound of war increases, and the dan- 
 ger seems to he drawing nearer and nearei-o 
 it ap[>ears now heyond douht, that adniitiis- 
 tration are deterirsiued to ti\v the issue of an- 
 other year's pejseeiiliou. We nnist expect a 
 visit \ei'y soon. In (liese circumstances, ev- 
 ery man iiere holds his life hy the most pre- 
 carious tenure ; and our friends abroad should 
 prepare themselves for learning that >ve ai*c^ 
 numbered among the dead. 
 
 SfllOM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Charleston, S.C. Aug. 17, 177G. 
 
 MV DEATl DAUGHTER, 
 
 YouK brother will tell you a c^reat deal of 
 American news, and particularly of the es- 
 cape we have had from enemies who talked 
 of nothing less than eating us up. The con- 
 versation in the fleet >vas, that thev would 
 
TO IMARTHA LAUttENS. 6.1 
 
 breaklast at Sullivan's Island ; dine at Fort 
 Johnson ; and sup in Charleston. Charity, 
 therefore, would incline us to adntit tlrat sir 
 Peter's cominj^; against us with so formidable 
 a power, as two ships of Miy guns each ; 
 four of twenty-eight ; one of twenty-six ; one 
 of twenty, and a bonibketcli, nright have been 
 from motives of mercy. It niight have been 
 thought that we should be frightened into 
 submission, witliout spilling blood; but the 
 battle is not always to the stiong. 
 
 All the mischiefs which have happened, 
 and all that shall still happen to the contend- 
 ing parties^ are to be charged to wicked and 
 foolish counsellors. 1 pray God to raise up 
 Aviser and better men, who may devise means 
 for effecting a friendly intercourse between 
 Great Britain and these now <' United, free 
 and independent states," and for promoting 
 the mutual happiness of both parties. It is 
 not impossible, but that the separation, lately 
 announced, may produce great benefit to both. 
 I am persuaded you will not give offence to 
 any body, by interposing your opinions con- 
 cerning these matters ; to relate to you what 
 has happened, cannot be amiss, which is all 
 I mean. You will in silence submit the fu- 
 ture progress and final determination to the 
 wise order of that superintending Being, w ho 
 holds the scales of justice in his hand : who 
 never fails to help those who confide in him 
 
62 LETTERS FROM HENRY LAURENS 
 
 and do right; who hiith set bounds to Iho 
 bared ami of the mightiest monarch on earJh, 
 as he hath to the seemingly irresistible power 
 of the ocean. ** Hitherto shalt thou come, 
 and here shall thy proud waves be staid." 
 Your part will be to join with the sons and 
 daughters of piety, and pray incessantly for 
 peace. Peace to all the world, especially to 
 the country in which you reside ; and that to 
 which you more particularly belong; and 
 you Avill lament that it is vour father's un- 
 happy lot to be engaged in war, in civil war, 
 God's severest scourge upon mankind. 
 
 1 have no doubt, my dear daughter, but 
 that you will take every advantage which the 
 country you are in alfords for the improve- 
 ment of your mind, and ^oui* address. Tfie 
 latter is of more importance to a lady than is 
 sometimes tlioughl ; to you in particular your 
 friends should recommend it. God knows 
 through what scenes you are to pass. If, 
 instead of affluence, of whicli you had lately 
 a prospect, and to which you have still a just 
 clainu if servitude is to be your portion, «jual- 
 ify yourself for an up])er place. Fear not 
 Ecrvitude, encounter it if it shall be necessa- 
 ry, with a spirit becoming a woman of an 
 honest and a pious heart ; a woman who has 
 iKrt been aifectedly nor fashionably religious. 
 It is my duty, my dear, to repeat, it will be 
 your wisdom to listen to this alarm. The 
 
TO MARTHA LAURENS. Do 
 
 oven(s of war are uncertain, and there lias 
 been much talk of forfeited estates ; poor 
 deluded Iii5*;l»Ianders, who are now our pris- 
 oners, were inlisted under assurances of 
 getting; possession of our farms, plantations 
 and town estates. Hessians and Hanoveri- 
 ans, and other foreign troops have been 
 bought b\ similar promises, and no doubt 
 some of them will fight strong for the spoil. 
 Kegro slaves and barbarous Indians have 
 been taught to exclaim, ** down with the 
 Americans, and their estates will be free 
 plunder." Thus cruelly beset, howbeit, my 
 heart neither fails nor misgives me ; I see it 
 iny duty to guard against every thing which 
 may happen, and to sound repeated warnings 
 to those who are dearer to me. and of more 
 value to the world, than my life. 
 
 You will take care of my Polly too. I 
 need not tell you to be dutiful to your uncle 
 and aunt; to love and reverence them as tend- 
 er parents. They may be reduced to very 
 great straits. There my heart is most wrung; 
 but I must forbear; the subject overpowers 
 me ; God in whom 1 trust, will protect you 
 all. Adieu, my dear daughter, write as oft- 
 en as you can, and in some measure lessen 
 the anxiety Avhich arises from the uncertain- 
 ty of your being restoi'ed to your faitJifuI 
 friend, your afiectionate father, 
 
 Henry Laurens. 
 
APPENDIX, No. II. 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXEKCISES. 
 
 Thursday Dec 23, 1773. 
 
 BEING THIS DAY FOLTRTEEV YEARS AND SEVEN WEEKS 
 
 OLD. 
 
 I DO this day, after full consideration, and 
 serious deliberation, and after earnest prayer 
 for the assistance of Divine Grace, resolve 
 to surrender and devote my youth, my 
 strengtii, my soul, with all I have, and all I 
 am, to thoi service of that great and good 
 God, who has preserved and kept me all my 
 life until now, and who in infmite compassion 
 has given me to see the folly of my ways, 
 and by faith to lay hold on a dear Redeemer, 
 and obtain peaoe to my soul through his 
 precious blood. 
 
 Martha Laurens. 
 
 A self dedication A!^d solemn covenant 
 
 WITH god. 
 
 KTPi»iNiL^ a?Kl uncbangeablp .Tehovr.h \ 
 Thou s:reat Creator of Heaven and eartu ■ And 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. ^^ 
 
 adorable Lord of anc^els and men, I desire, 
 with tlie deepest humiliation and abasement of 
 soul, to fiill down at this time in thine awful 
 presence, and earnestly pray, that thou wilt 
 penetrate my very heart and soul with a suit- 
 able sense of thine unuUcrable and incon- 
 ceivable f^lories! Trembling may justly lay 
 Iiold upon me when I, a sinful worm, pre- 
 sume to lift up my head to thee, presume to 
 appear in thy majesiic presefice, on such an 
 occasion as tiiis. J 
 
 Who am I, Oh Lord Clod, or what is my 
 house ? What is my nature or descent, my 
 character and desert, th.at I should speak of 
 this, and desire that I may be one [)ar<y in a 
 covenant, wh':*i'e thou, the King of kings and 
 Loi'd of lords, art the other. I blush and am 
 confounded, even to mention it before thee. 
 But, Oh Lord, great as is thy majesty, so al- 
 so is thy mercy. If thou wilt hold converse 
 with any of thy creatures, thy superlatively 
 exalted nature, must stoop, must stoop infin- 
 itely low; and I know that in and through 
 .Tesus, the Son of thy love, thou condescend- 
 cst to visit sinful mortals, and to alloAV their 
 approach to thee, and their covenant inter- 
 course with thee. Nay, I know that the 
 scheme and plan is thine own. and that thou 
 hast graciously sent to propose it to us ; as none 
 untaught by thee would have been able to 
 form it^ or inclined to embrace it even when 
 
66 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 actually proposed. To thee, therefore, do I 
 now come, invited by the name of thv Son. 
 and trusting in his righteousness and grace ; 
 laying myself at thy feet with shame and con- 
 fusion of face, and smiting upon my breast, I 
 say with the humble publican, ** God be 
 merciful to me a sinner." I acknowledge, 
 liord, I have been a great transgressor, T^Iy 
 sins have reached unto Heaven, and mine in- 
 iquities are lifted up unto the skies. The 
 irregular propensities of uiy corrupt and de- 
 generate nature have, in ten thousand aggra- 
 vated instances, wrought to bring forth fruit 
 unto death. And if thou shouldcst be strict 
 to mark mine offences, 1 must be silent un- 
 der a load of guilt, and immediately sink in- 
 to destruction. But thou hast graciously 
 cabled me to return unto thee, thcugli J have 
 been a wandering sheep, a prodigal daughter, 
 a backsliding child. Beliold, therefore, O 
 Lord, I come unto thee. I come, convinced 
 not only of my sin but of my folly. I come 
 from my very heart ashamed of myself, and 
 with sincerity and humility confess that I 
 have erred exceedingly. I am confounded with 
 the remembrance of these things; but be thou 
 merciful to my unrighteousness, and do not re- 
 member against me my sins and my transgres- 
 sions. Permit me, Oh Lord ! to bring back 
 mito thee those powers and facullies, wiiich 
 I have ungratefully and sacrilegiously alien- 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 67 
 
 ated f!*om th j service, aitd receive, 1 beseech 
 thee, thy poor perverted creature, who is 
 now convinced of the right thou hast to her, 
 and desires nothing in the whole earth so 
 much as io he truly thine ! Blessed God! it 
 is with the utmost solemnity that I make this 
 surrender of myself to thee. Hear, Oh Heav- 
 ens ! and give ear, O earth ! I avouch the 
 Lord to he my God. I avouch and declare 
 myself this day, to be one of his covenant 
 people. Hear, Oh thou God of Heaven ! and 
 record it in the book of thy remembrance, 
 that henceforth I am thine, entireh thine. 
 I Avould not merely consecrate unto thee 
 some of my powers, or some of my posses- 
 sions, or give thee a certain proportion of my 
 services, or all 1 i\m capable of for a limited 
 time; but I would be wholly thine, and thine 
 for ever. From this day do 1 solemnly re- 
 nounce all tlic former lords which have had 
 doininion over me ; every sin and every lust, 
 and hid in thy name an eter? al delianceto the 
 powers of Hell, which have most unjustly 
 usurped the empire over my soul, and to all 
 the corruptions which their fatal temptations 
 have introduced into it. The whole frame 
 of my nature, all the faculties of my mind, 
 a'l the members of my body, would I present 
 before thee this day, as a living sacrifice holy 
 aad acceptable unto God. which I know 
 be my most reasonable service. To thee 
 
68 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 conseerafo all my worldly possessions ; m 
 thy service I desire to spend all the remainder 
 of my time upon earth, and beg thou wouldst 
 instruct and inlluencc me so that, whether 
 my abode liere be longer or shorter, every 
 year and month, day and hour, may be iiacd 
 in such a manner as shall most eifectually 
 promote thine honour, and subserve the 
 scheme of t!iy wise and gracious providence ; 
 and I earnestly pray that wliatever influence 
 thou givest me over otliers, in any of the su- 
 perior relations of life in which I may stand, 
 or in consequence of any peculiar regard 
 \vhich might be paid me, tliou wouldst give 
 me strength and courage to exert myself to 
 the utmost for thy glory. Resolving, not 
 only that I will do it myself, but that all otli« 
 ers, so far as I can rationally and properly 
 influence them, shall serve the Lord. In tins 
 course, Oh blessed (^od ! would I steadily 
 persevere to the very end of my life, earnest- 
 ly praying, that every future day of it may 
 supply the deficiencies and correct the irreg- 
 ularities of thetbrmer, and that I may, by di- 
 vine grace, h^ enabled, not only to hold on in 
 that happy tvay, but daily to grow more ac- 
 tive in it. 
 
 Nor do I only coisecrate all that lam and 
 have to thy service, but I also most humbly 
 resign aiid submit to thy heavenly will, my- 
 self and all that I can call mine. I leave^ Oh 
 
ilELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 69 
 
 Loi'd, to tlij mHniJgejnent and direction all I 
 possess and all 1 wish ; and set every enjoj- 
 lucnt and every interest before thee, to be 
 disposed of, as tlioii pleasest. Continue, or 
 I'eniove what thon hast j^ivei! nie ; bestow or 
 refuse, w hat I inia.^ine I want, as thou, Lord 
 shalt see good ; and though I dai-e not say I 
 will never repine, yet i liope I may venture 
 to say, that I will labour not only to subuiit 
 but to acquiesce ; not only to bear what thou 
 doest in thy most afflictive dispensations ; but 
 to consent to it. and to praise thee for it, 
 contentedly resolving, in all thai thou appoint- 
 est, ray will into thine, and looking on myself 
 as nothing, and on thee. Oh God ! as the great 
 eternal ail, whose word ought to determine 
 every thing, and whose governmentought to 
 be the joy of the whole rational creation. 
 
 Use me. Oh Lord, I beseech thee, as the 
 instrunicnt of thy glory, and honour me so 
 far. as either by doing or suffering what thou 
 shalt appoint, to bring some revenue of praise 
 to thee, anM of benefit to the world in which 
 I dwell ; and may it please thee. Oh my Cre- 
 ator ! from tliis day forward, to number me 
 among thy peculiar people, that I may no 
 more be a stranger and foi*eigner. but a fi'llow 
 citizen with the saints, and of the household 
 of God. I^eceive, Oh heavenly Father ! thy 
 returp.ing prodigal. Wash me in the b^ood. 
 of thy dear Son ; clothe me with his perfect 
 
70 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 right eoiisiiess, and sanctifj me lliroiigl jout by 
 the power of thy Spirit! Destroy. 1 beseech 
 thee, more did move the povver oi* sia in my 
 heart! Transform me more into thine own 
 image, and fashion me to the resemblance of 
 Jesus, whom henceforward I wovskl acknowl- 
 e({ge as my teacher, and my sacrifice, my in- 
 tercessor, and my Lord ! Communicate to me, 
 I beseech thee, all needful influences of thy 
 purifying, thy cheering, and thy comforting 
 spirit ; and lift up the light of thy counte- 
 nance upon me, wliich will put the sublimest 
 Jo^ and gladness into my soul. 
 
 Dispose my aifaiss. Oh God ! in a manner 
 which may be most subservient to thy glory 
 and my own truest happiness ; and when I 
 have done and borne thy will upon earth, call 
 me from hence at what time, and in what 
 manner thou pleasest ; only grant that in my 
 dying moments, and the near view of eterni- 
 ty, I may remember these my engagements to 
 thee, and may employ my latest breath to 
 thy service ; and do thou. Oh Lord, when 
 thou seest the agonies of dissolving nature 
 upon me, remember this covenant too, even 
 though I should then be incapable of recol- 
 lecting it. Look down, Oh my heavenly Fa- 
 ther, with a pitying eye upontlty languishing, 
 dying child ; place thine everlasting arms 
 underneath me for my support ; put strength 
 and confidence into my departing spirit, and 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 7 1 
 
 Feceivc it to the embraces of thy everlasting 
 love! Welcome it to the abodes of them that 
 sleep in Jesus ; to wait with them that glori- 
 ous (lay, when the last of thy promises to thy 
 covenant people slrall be fullilledin their tri- 
 un»pliant resurrection and tliat abundant en- 
 trance, wliich shall be administered to them 
 into that everlastiui;' kingdom, of which thoa 
 hast assured them in thy covenant, and in 
 the hope of which, I now lay hold of it, de- 
 siring to live and to die as Avith my hand on 
 that hope ! 
 
 And when I am thus numbered among tlie 
 dead, and all llie interests of mortality are 
 over with me for ever, if this solemn memori- 
 al sliould chance to fall into the hands of any 
 surviving friends, may it be the means of 
 making serious iuipressions on their mind. 
 May they read it not only as my language, 
 but as theii* own : and learn to fear the Lord 
 my God, and witli me to put their trust un- 
 der tlie shadow of his wings for time and for 
 eternity; and i»\ay they also learn to adore 
 Avith me that grace wliich inclines our heart 
 to enter into the covenant, and condescends 
 to adniit us into it, when so inclined ; ascrib- 
 ing witii me and with all the children of God, 
 to the I'ather, to the Son, and to the Holy 
 Ghost, that glory, honour and praise, which 
 is so justly due to each divine person for the 
 part lie bears in this illustrious work.. ..Amen. 
 
^2 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 Lord T am tliinc, for ever thine. 
 My soul doth cleave to thee; 
 My dearest, Lord be ever mine, 
 I'll have no love but thee. 
 
 Henceforth I am not mine but God's for 
 ever. 
 
 Martha LAniENs. 
 
 I had fallen, shamefully fallen, and broken 
 the solemn eoveiiant engagements in so dread- 
 ful a manner, that none but lie who is 
 holy and true, who hath the key of all hearts, 
 who 05)eneth and no man shutteth, could ever 
 have restored me, but through the unbounded 
 and astonishing measures of his grace ; I 
 was awakened to a sense of my vileness and 
 ingratitude ; made to feel more bitter pangs 
 than ever; and after miieli struggling and 
 Biany entreaties from my compassionate Re- 
 deemer, I renewed mv violated vows in the 
 most solemn manner, not only privately, but 
 publicly, by giving up myself to him in the 
 ordinance of the Holy Supper, before near 
 three hundred persons at St. Werbrougirs, 
 December 25, 1775. 
 
 Solemnly again, April 7, 1776, and more 
 solemnly and with more affecting circum- 
 stances than ever, May 36, 1776. 
 
APPENDIX N^ IIL 
 
 Bristol, June, 177Q. 
 A SUPPLICATION FOR A BELOVED RELATIVE. 
 
 My heart lias been rather bowed down to 
 day, and throiigli the prevalence of unbelief, 
 I have a hard struj^gle to keep from sinking. 
 My dear aunt's extreme weakness makes me 
 truly apprehensive on her account ; and O, 
 my stubborn will, it can hardly bear the 
 thonghts of letting her outstrip me and get 
 to Heaven first ! O, if it should please the 
 Lord to remove her hence, what a severe 
 stroke will it be to my loving heart ; may he 
 give me grace, if such is his good pleasure, 
 to lie down, in humble submission at his 
 feet ; but, O my God ! if I may plead with 
 thee, and if the earnest wish of my soul is 
 not contradictory to thy all wise and gra- 
 cious providence, which I would not for ten 
 thousand worlds desire to subvert, spare. O 
 spare !ier ; direct the physicians, heneelf* and 
 attendants, and in mercy hear the supplica- 
 tions of her friends, of we, tiiine unworthy 
 
T*^ RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 supplicant. Bless the waters, the eliauge of 
 air, or wliatever she shall be ordeied ; with- 
 out thy blessing, nothing will avail ; there- 
 fore by humble and diligent prayer would I 
 seek it, in the name and for the merits of siiy 
 dear Redeemer. In thy hands are the issues 
 of life and death ; thou canst bring back again 
 from the gates of the grave, canst say to tlie 
 violence of disease, hitherto shalt tlion go 
 and no further; and with one powerful word, 
 canst recruit exhausted nature, and give new 
 strength and vigour. I well know tliat thou 
 art able, and as fully am I convinced that 
 thou art willing to grant this petition, if it 
 will be for the good of thi!ie handmaid, and 
 of us her affectionate frlendj^ ; therefore, with 
 the most steady faith, 1 desire to pray, and 
 without wavering to come unto tbe throne of 
 grace; if thoudoest for me tliis thing, I will 
 adoi^e and praise thy love for ever, and for 
 ever; if not in the deepest alEiction, will I 
 sing unto thee, and amidst surrounding dis- 
 tress will proclaim thy goodness. O njy 
 Lord, be thou with luy dear friend ; place 
 thine everlasting arms beneath her; give her 
 strength and confulence in thee under all her 
 trials ; manifest thy presence unto her in so 
 sweet and delightful a manner, that she may 
 fbrget#ll her pains, and lose all her sorrows 
 in the enjoyment of thy love ; revive her 
 drooping spirits with the cordials of thy 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES'. 75 
 
 grace ; wean her moi-e tlian ever from the 
 >voi*ld, and eng;age to tlice tlie chief and 
 choicest of her affections. Teacli n»e, I pray 
 ihce, the way in which I ought to go ; direct 
 ine to every tender, kind, and christian ac- 
 tion, and assist me now to shew my gratis ude 
 for her unparalleled goodness to me for so 
 many years, by doing every thing in my pow- 
 er to serve and comfort her. Bless also my 
 beloved uncle : sustain his mind in every time 
 of trouble, and let not the sight of his dear 
 sickly wife, prejudice his own health and in- 
 crease his disorder; but let all his care be 
 cast on thee. 
 
 A RELIGIOUS EXERCISE AT HOME, WHEN PROVIDENTIAL- 
 LY DISAPPOINTED OF AM OPPORTUNITY FOR PUBLIC 
 COMMUNION. 
 
 In the name of the Father, of the Son^ and 
 of the Ifoly Ghost; O Lord, I am thine by 
 every tie of nature and of grace ; thine by a 
 daily surrender; and I desire at this time 
 particularly to acknowledge and rejoice in 
 my dependence on thee ; I have tasted such 
 an abundance of comfort in thy paths, and 
 have found them so peaceful and so pleasant, 
 that it does not appear to me, that any thing 
 in the wo'ld could tempt me to leave them; 
 but instead of being high minded, O my Gotl ! 
 
' o RELIGIOUS EXfiRClSKS: 
 
 I would fear and watch over injselt* with a 
 godly jealousy, lest through the abundance 
 of that consolation which thou hast vouch- 
 safed me, I should be filled with vain eonli- 
 dence, slide into carnal security, and feel 
 sooner than I am aware of, a declension from 
 the ways of grace. Behold, there fore, O 
 Jjord ! I come as a beginner in rcJij^ion, a 
 babe in Christ, humbly beseeching tiiee to 
 forgive all my sins ; to pour into my heart 
 the gift of the Holy Ghost; and to enable 
 me to abide steadfast in my calling, till thou 
 shalt deliver me from all danger, and fix me 
 as an immoveable pillar in thy eternal king- 
 dom. Bind me to thyself more strongly, 
 liord, than ever ; ratify my vows in Heaven, 
 and seal my pardon there ; this day, I hoped 
 to have publicly commemorated thy love, O 
 sweetest Jesus ! and professed myself the 
 disciple of thy cross ; but since thy provi- 
 dence hath otherwise ordained, condescend 
 to accept from this, my retired chamber, the 
 utmost desire of my heart to praise thee, and 
 devote itself for ever to thy will. Satisfy the 
 longings of my soul with that bread of God 
 which is the life of all who eat it, and let 
 there be such a spiritual participation of thy 
 blessed body and blood, that I may dwell in 
 thee, and thou in me, and that having life, I 
 laay have it more abundantly. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISESi '"^ 
 
 Silow me that thou art an all powerful 
 God, and that where thou art pleased sav- 
 ingly to manifest thyself, there is Heaven, 
 there is a Temple, there an Altar, there di- 
 vine communion, and while thy servant in a 
 humble dependence on thy promises, with a 
 bended knee and with a contrite heart waits 
 ui>on tlice, reveal thy mercy and thy loving 
 kindness, and overflow her soul with the 
 cleansing and reviving streams of thy re- 
 deeming grace. Say unto me '* I am thy 
 SalTation.-' Diive doubt and unbelief away, 
 and banish all my fear ; make me to know 
 that I am thine^ and that nothing shall ever 
 separate me from thy love ; divert me from 
 thy service; or finally prevent my admission 
 into the realms of unchangeable felicity. 
 
 Martha Lauiiens. 
 
 Tei^iimouth, July 6, \777. 
 
 C, 2 
 
APPENDIX, NMY. 
 
 DEVOUT MEDITATIOKS."^' 
 
 I. 
 
 SELF ABASEMENT, WITH RESOLUTIONS TO WALK MORE 
 WORTHILY. 
 
 "What a poor, lukewarm, unprofitable, un- 
 worthy disciple am I ! 
 
 How cold and deficient my duty toward 
 God. How mingled witli sin my charity to- 
 ward men. Well may I cry out for quick- 
 iiing grace and plead for sanctification. When 
 shall my light shine before men, and the 
 Gospel be glorified by my conduct. Oh how 
 unlike I am the blessed Jesus, ray Redeemer 
 and my pattern. IJ^s blessed feet were con- 
 tinually carrying him about to do good, but 
 alas, mine are prone to wander in the ways 
 of folly. I am all self abasement, and can 
 liardly bear the review of my most exempla- 
 
 * Written in England by Miss Laurens between the six- 
 teenth and nineteenth year of her age, but not particularly 
 dated. The breaks or divisions with their numbers and heads 
 Or titles, and the general title are added by the Editor. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 79 
 
 vy tla.ys. My past life lias been one continu- 
 ed course of impiety, and my most lioly things 
 liave been unrighteous. What shall I say, 
 then, or whither shall 1 ilee for incrcy, but 
 to the great atonement; to (he blood of the 
 Iledeemer, by which alone I can obtain for- 
 giveness for the iniquities wltich I have com- 
 mitted in thought, word, and deed. 
 
 O that from this time fopward I may be 
 more zealous in the service of my God, and 
 ^valk more worthy the vocation wherewith I 
 am called ; adorning the doctrines of God, 
 my Saviour, in all things, and having my out- 
 ward behaviour strongly expressive of the in- 
 ward state of ujy mind ; not making the cus- 
 toms and manners of a corrupt and sinful 
 world the rule by which I Avalk; but trying 
 myself by the New Testament, the words of 
 Jesus, and tlie divinely inspired Apostles ; 
 and living with a constant regard to death 
 and judgment. How short is time ! How 
 long is eternity ! yet, alas, how is my mind 
 occupied by the things of time, how careless 
 of tlie things of eternity. Now, dear Jesus, 
 show thyself with power, and work a great 
 deliverance for me, that in thee, I may be- 
 come strong, and have fortitude to walk con- 
 trary to the way of the world ; to take up my 
 cross and follow thee. Amen. 
 
80 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 II. 
 
 A DAY WELL SPENT. 
 
 Blessed be God for tliis day's entcrtain- 
 ment. How sweet is the society of lively 
 cliristians, when we meet together and spend 
 the hours, not in idle chit chat ahout dress or 
 'weather or such unprofitable themes, but in 
 mutual exhortation and encouragement. How 
 cojiifortabiy have I passed this day. In the 
 morning I was at the sanctuary, heard the 
 word of salvation, and sat with pleasure un- 
 der the teaching of the Gospel. When I re- 
 turned, met with dear fellow members, and 
 adored together the name of Jesus our Lord. 
 In the afternoon I visited serious friends, and 
 entered on the delightful subject, talked of 
 redeeming love and christian meekness ; and 
 again this evening met with acquaintance of 
 the same mind, and renewed the delightful 
 converse, and now at night I have been bless- 
 ed in my retirement, and had great, enlarge- 
 ment in prayer both alone and with my ser- 
 vant. I cannol close a day so distinguished 
 for spiritual mercies, without holy elevation, 
 without a song of praise, nor sleep till I have 
 rendered thanks. Praise the Lord, O my 
 soul, and let all that is within me praise his 
 holy name. Praise the Lord, O my soul, and 
 forget not all his benefits. I will praise the 
 Lord while I live ^ yea, while I have any be 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 Bi 
 
 iiig, I will sing praises to my God. My heart 
 is iixed, O God ! my heart is fixed, and 
 through time and eternity I shall he thus em- 
 jiloyed ; singing songs ot* everlasting triumph 
 and loud hallelujahs to the slain Lainh, the 
 purchaser of all our hopes, and ground of our 
 rejoicing. 
 
 III. 
 
 PREPARATION FOR AN HOUR OF TRIAL. 
 
 I AM now going into gay, worldly, and, I 
 even fear, that I shall meet with profane 
 company. O that through grace I may have 
 courage to show a hecoming spirit, and rcr 
 memhering the honourable name which I 
 bear, may I not be ashamed to act as a christ- 
 ian, and to let religion tincture every word 
 and action. O heavenly Father! now shed 
 abroad in my heart thy Holy Spirit, and let 
 nothing but holiness proceed out of my mouth. 
 Enable me so to demean myself, that all may 
 take knowledge of me that I have been with 
 Jesus. Let the law of kindness dwell upon 
 my tongue ; and teach me to discountenance 
 sin in the very spirit of humility. Show me 
 the eftcctual moments, the proper opportuni- 
 ties for speaking in defence of the Gospel, for 
 gir>rifying the name of Jesus, and i'^We me a 
 licart to embrace tliem. Let not the fear of 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 singularity make me a babbler ; but if I can 
 bear no innocent and useful part in conversa- 
 tion, keep me silent. Let the remembrance 
 of my solemn vows be ever before me, and 
 enable me, this day, to stand fast in the cov- 
 enant of Christ, joyfully confessing him be- 
 fore men. Hear me, O God ! for thy mercy's 
 sake, and have pity on a poor frail creature. 
 
 IV. 
 
 AN ACT OF CONTRITION WITH HOPES OF RESTORATION 
 TO DIVINE FAVOUR. 
 
 I HAD fainted unless I had believed to see 
 the goodness of the Lord. My feet had well 
 nigh, slipt and I was bowed down with sorrow. 
 Satan has distressed me with his vile sugges- 
 tions. Doubts and fears have perplexed me, 
 and I have been sore oppressed by my cor- 
 3"uptions ; yet blessed be my compassionate 
 Ijigh priest, my merciful Saviour, who hears 
 me from the very depths of wo, and thougli I 
 am now in darkness, gives me hope that I 
 shall still see him ; that his merey^ is not 
 clean gone for ever ; but that I shall yet re- 
 joice in the Lord, and go forth with strength, 
 conquering and to conquer. I now sigh and 
 mourn before him, because of my transgress- 
 ions, which have separated between me and 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 wiy God. I cry out \viUi earnestness. How 
 loii^i;, O Lord, how long. When shall I see 
 thee as 1 have seen thee in the sanctuary-. 
 When shall my prayer he heard, audi be per- 
 mitted again to attend thee in the sanctuary. 
 When wilt thou visit ine with the gracious 
 visits of thy love. When shall I enjoy thy 
 glories, thy gracious, thy refreshing, com- 
 forting presence, as*^^ I have heretofore done 
 when the candle of the Lord shone hright 
 upon me, and when I lived as it were at the 
 very gate of Heaven; yea, even in the bosom 
 of my Jesus, which Is the very heaven of 
 heavens ; where bliss unspeakable abounds. 
 1 cannot forget these times, these seasons of 
 inexpressible rejoicing ; and as the thirsts- 
 hart panteth for the reviving strean>, so pant* 
 eth my soul after thee, even after thee, the liv- 
 ing God, who alone can give me comfort, and 
 send me relief in this day of trial. Surely it is 
 sin which has drawn this dreadful veil over my 
 heart ; shut out the cheering ra} s olhis counte- 
 nance; grieved the Holy Spirit, and made my 
 heloved to depart from me, and leave me thus 
 comfortless. His love is still the same; but 
 1 have changed ; I have grown lukewarm 
 and careless; I have backslidden, and Avan- 
 dered in the ways of folly ; I have been 
 idle, and have not improved the means of 
 grace. I have been self indulgent, and al- 
 lowed the flesh too much of its own wav. 
 
S4 heligious exercises'} 
 
 I have not been so watclifiil as I ought, WiUi 
 shame and confusion of face do I reflect on 
 and confess these things ; aiui with the deep- 
 est self abasement cast myself at the fool of 
 the cross. I lay myself under the droppings 
 of the blood of Jesus, and hardly daring to 
 look up, I cry. Lord be merciful to me a sin- 
 ner, a grievous sinner; my crimes are of the 
 deepest dye, and my sins of more than scarlet 
 hue ; I am the most ungrateful creature in 
 the whole house ; yet may I not hope for mer- 
 cy^ and still plead the merits of that Saviour 
 I have so basely injured, I can offer no ar- 
 gument but the greatness of my sin and the 
 extent of his love ; I know that to be amazing 
 and unbounded, and, therefore. I will not de- 
 spair; but humbly trust that there is forgive- 
 itess with him, and that I shall be again ad- 
 mitted into communion with my dear Lord, 
 and tied so fast to him as to iiave no power to 
 depart. 
 
 V. . 
 
 SREPARATION FOR SELF EXAMINATION. 
 
 I DESIRE now to try myself; to search mj 
 spirit ; and, therefore, I devote this week, 
 through God's grace, to extraordinary retire^ 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 85 
 
 meiit, prayer, fasting, and meditation ; if so 
 be that the Lord will be gracious, and assist 
 me in my sell* examination and devotion, and 
 revisit me with his free salvation. Without 
 Christ I can do nothing ; I therefore east my- 
 self at his feet, and beg him to strengthen 
 and direct, and so to lead me through the 
 rugged riiad of life, that I may at lengtJi ob- 
 tain the fall fruition of immortal bliss, and be 
 made paritaker of never ending glory ; though 
 now I have my gloomy fears, and pass througli 
 dangerous deeps, and dismal snares. 
 
 YI. 
 
 SENSATIONS OCCASIONED BY THE SIGHT OF A PICTURE 
 OF THI i SAVIOUR TAKEN FROM THE CROSS. 
 
 I HAVE seen a picture lod:-«y whicli made 
 an amazini ; impression on my tnind ; the Sav- 
 iour taken from the cross. Yvith my bodily 
 eyes, I lool Led on the jirint ; witli the eye of 
 faith, I vie wed his body nifuiglcd, rent- and 
 covered wi th a gore of blood for me ; tlie 
 flinty rock "was broken ; my liard heart was 
 melted, and tears of penitence and love were 
 ready to flo w. My thoughts were solemnized 
 by the sight : and 1 hope that, upon the whole, 
 it has not b( sen an unprolitable circumstance. 
 
 H 
 
86 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISER. 
 
 Various are the ways of grace by which the 
 Saviour touches tlie heart ; and in his hands, 
 and with liis blessing, the weakest means, 
 produce astonishing good. I wish to have 
 my mind in such a state as to regard every 
 occurrence in a christian view, and to let 
 nothing pass without some holy reflection, 
 some pious meditation. May the dear Jesus 
 gsiide me in the great work I have under- 
 taken, and bless to my poor soul every thing 
 that 1 either see or hear, or think of for his 
 mercy's sake. 
 
 VII. 
 
 LONGING FOR DEATH, 
 
 O Death, where is thy sting? O Grave^, 
 where is thy victory ? To me ihoii. hast none. 
 I often look forward with impatience to the 
 hour when thou shalt set me free, and long 
 to be touched by thy cold hand ; 'tis but a 
 little while since, and I could rsot bear the 
 thought of eternity. Now the time seems 
 tedious that I am detained a prisoner here ; 
 sick of the world, and all its unsatisfactory 
 enjoyments, I often cry to my behoved in the 
 longing of desire. Come quickly, con^e quick- 
 ly, for I long to be withth;'<'. Fiovr slow I'lD- 
 
RELIGIOUS EXTERCI^S. ^J 
 
 minutes roll; liow leisurely the hours move, 
 which keep me tVom my God. ** I long for 
 evening to undress." 1 long, earnestly long 
 for the day of my dissolution, which will de- 
 liver my imprisoned soul from its confine- 
 ment, and leave it free from every clog of 
 flesh and sense. Each change in my spiiiUial 
 life increases this ardent longing. Is the 
 sky clear, and does the sun shine bright ? 
 have I sweet communion witli the Saviour, 
 and ravishing foretastes of the unutterable, 
 inconceivable bliss, purchased for me by his 
 blood and merits ? How do I languish for 
 the full fruition of those immortal joys, 
 which are now bestowed by measure, and 
 pant to behold him face to face, whom now I 
 see but darkly, even in my most exalted mo- 
 ments. 
 
 Am I drooping under desertion, venting 
 my complaints, because of the absence of 
 him whom my soul loveth. Oh then, indeed, 
 I long for that blessed time, when sin shall 
 have lost its power, and no more separate 
 between the Saviour and my soul : when I 
 shall no more grieve the Spirit, and provoke 
 him to depart; but shall have done with 
 doubts and fears, with sins and sorrows, a!id 
 shall be put into the full possession of heaven 
 and happiness. I shall be victorious over 
 hell and the grave. Having tiiese comfort- 
 able assurances that I shall be happy, ami 
 
88 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 finding all tliini^s below hut bubbles, toys, 
 and Iriiles,. I liave j^Town tired of tliis world, 
 and long to be in a better, even tbe world 
 above, where my forerunner reigns, and 
 Avbere I hope ere long to reign with him in 
 glory. 
 
 Haste, Lord, and bring me to the day, 
 When 1 shall dwell at home ; 
 Corae, O licdeemer, come away, 
 O Jesus, quickly come. 
 
 p VIIL 
 
 THE PLEASURES OF COMMUNION WITH GOD ; HUMILIA- 
 TION FOR UNWORTHINESS OF SUCH A PRIVILEGE ; RES- 
 OLUTIONS TO SEEK AFTER ITS CON'l INUANCE. 
 
 Sweet are the moments spent at the foot 
 of the cross, while there I sit, and sing, and 
 mourn, and love. 
 
 I would not exchange one such hour, for 
 ten thousand years of worldly enjoyment. 
 The utmost heights of earthly pomp ; the 
 hoiiours of royalty ; the treasures of both 
 the Indies; the adulation of the multitude; 
 nor health, nor friends, nor any thing of ter- 
 restrial bliss, though it were to last for ever, 
 could make ine happy in the absence of my 
 rt. God, or recompense me for the loss of his 
 favour. But. Avith the light of his eountc- 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. ^ 
 
 nance, and the comforts of his Spirit, having 
 no ^here to lay my head, sick and forlorn, 
 4 mean and despised, pcisecnted and defamed, 
 I I conld rejoice with joy unspeakahle and lull 
 I of dory. What nonsense would this seem to 
 a man of the world; hut the believing soul 
 ^vell knows what I say. Those who have 
 once tasted that the Lord is gracious, and 
 found refuge from sin and Satan, in the 
 ' bleeding wounds of Jesus, can witness to 
 I this truth, That his love su^^fses knowl- 
 I edi-e, and is better than lite itself. The 
 cross, the cross ! O tliis is all my glory ; the 
 only irround of my rejoicing; by the death 
 of the Son of God, life is purchased ior me, 
 and in his prevailing name, I Imve free ac- 
 cess to tlie tlirone of grace. I can go and 
 snread before the Father my wants, and my 
 complaints; tell him of all my distresses, 
 Tnv conflicts, my trials, and my weakness ; 
 and from the fulness of his Son derive a 
 sufficiencv of strength for the day of tempta- 
 tion. I can plead lii^ own word, his precious 
 promises, and rest secure upon them. I can 
 ask the influences of his grace, beg the con- 
 solations of the Holy Ghost, and show him 
 iiiv need of comfort. O, I love to sit at the 
 feet of Jesus, till my heart melts, and til my 
 » eyes run down with tears. I love to look on 
 li'im till they grow dim to outward oojects, 
 and Vill I am wholly taken up with the things 
 
 14 O 
 
 ♦ 
 
ao 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES; 
 
 Of faith. Sometimes I am so lost in the 
 hci^hU and breadth, and length, and depth 
 ot love immeasniable, that I seem dead to 
 the world, and have no thou.^ht of any thinp; 
 nit I forget the things of time, and my 
 spirit solaces itself in the foretastes of cte/- 
 imi joys; hilt alas, these seasons last not 
 
 Too soon my joys decav. 
 Too soon my si as arise^ 
 
 Too soon I find myself groveling midst 
 the clods of earth, and the wheels of love 
 turnmg heavily. This makes the chains of 
 sense hateful to mc ; and nothing gives me 
 pleasure that does not increase my growth 
 «n grace. I hate all company, all amuse- 
 ments, all business that diverts my mind 
 trom spiritual things, and draws it from 
 
 I delight in those means which I have 
 lound most benefieiaK and wish to observe 
 every rule which has a good effect upon my 
 spirit. My Saviour has often been pleased 
 to manifest liimself in my hours of prayer 
 and my soul [las been caught up to celestial 
 heights, even to the throne of God, while I 
 Avas m the lowest posture of reverence before 
 hiin. He has often met me in my retire- 
 ments, and made solitude so delightful to 
 mQ, that I love to remain whole days shut 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 9i 
 
 ?)ut from tlie world. He has graciously re- 
 freslied me at his lahle, and peculiaily in my 
 after retirement, made himself known to my 
 enraptured soul in such a manner as words 
 cannot describe or tongue declare, for it is 
 inexpressible, and only to be felt.'^ Be as- 
 
 * *' When by often betaking ourselves to God we be- 
 eomc acquainted with him ; v hen bv frequent pmyer, med- 
 itation, and other j)ractices of devotion, we " follow hard 
 after iiim," and attend close upon him. lie is accustomed 
 to break i?i vjfon the soul ivith Jloshes of joij ; to -ivavm it 
 with beams cf cow fort ; to breathe into it the inspirations of 
 heaven ; to speak peace to the hearty and shed through it 
 a thousand consolations ; when on our knees before hiin, we 
 feel, our hearts dissolving with love, mid f owing' out to his 
 bosom, we find the rich tide of affection soon rolling back 
 from God to our souls, and bringing with it pleasures 
 widcli are unutterable. Do any of yoti, my brethren, re- 
 !:;ard these -representations as visions of fancy, havi^a^ no 
 existence in real life, or as fliglits of enthusiasm ? BtJieve 
 me, you deceive your own souls ; believe me, mantf thou- 
 iands, followers sf the JjCimb, have found in this intercourse 
 with their Uod, pleasiires incomparablij greater than tliosc 
 J have described. I appeal to experience for a confirmation 
 f)f their reality. Not to the experience of those cold foima! 
 ju-ofessors, who abound in our churches ; who, m hilst they 
 attend to the exterior of religion, neglect to cultivate its 
 inward power ; who are desirous of a{)pcaring iioly, and 
 careless of being so ; who perform with assiduity those du- 
 ties in the discharge of which the eyes of men ai-e fixed 
 upon them, but who neglect those exercises which exclude 
 all other w itnesses than (tod, and their own conscietices. 
 To the experience of these men we do not appeal ; for they 
 are strangers to communion with God ; alas ! they are 
 strungers to vital religion. But we appeal tt) those warm 
 hearted believers, who daily are cementing this heavenltj 
 fcuniliariti/y by renewing their intercourse with God ; who 
 often talk with him in the secret of their closet ; and hourly 
 direct their thoughts to their Father and their Friend. 
 Speak and declare that God deals familiarly -ioith men ; 
 
92 RELIoioUS EXERCISES, 
 
 tonished and wonder, O my soul, that thou, 
 the vilest creature in (^e workl, the very 
 chief of sinners, and a heJl deserving wretch, 
 should ever be able to enjoy such a day, or 
 feel tlie ti^nsports that thou hast done. 
 Blush tbat after tliis tiiou hast ever grown 
 cold, lukewarm, and have even now so much 
 reason to mourn, because of unbelief and 
 hardness of IsearL 
 
 Be ashamed of thy careless and unchrist- 
 ian life, and humble thyself in the presence 
 of the Lord because of thy transgression. 
 Call upon every thing within thee, to exert 
 itself in tbe service of thy Kcileemer; walk 
 more by faith and less by sight ; divest thy- 
 self of all unnecessary concerns ; unlade thy- 
 
 dratv fnr a momrnt that veil tvith -ti'hich yonr modesty has 
 covered the interior of your soid, and show its that your 
 hearts have hee7i inundated ivith pleasures -which the ivorld 
 can never bestoiv, -iuhich the men of the xvorld can never 
 cnnceive^ 
 
 The preceding extracts, from tlie fifth sermon in the 
 volume Ifitciy i)ublishe(l by the Uev Dr. Kollock, are added 
 by the editor. Tlie cnll there mnde by the e!oi][aent preach- 
 er on wHrm hearted believers to produce their ext)erience, 
 as evidence in support of Ids doctrine, is here fully answer- 
 ed. They exactly tally ; yet it is no packed testimony. It 
 was entered on secret record at the distance of three thou- 
 sand miles, and is now providentially bronglit to light, 
 when the writer is entirely disinterested in tlie applause or 
 censure of mortals, and was written by her, when the rev. 
 erend author, who makes the appeal, was either unborn or 
 not more than one year old ; and to him it was and at this 
 Tnoment is wholly unknown. Vital religion is the same in 
 every clime and iige^ and among all denominations of 
 (Irristians, Ed iron. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXEneiSES. ^-"^ 
 
 self of vanity, and worltlly mindt dncss ; be 
 more frequent and earnest in prayer, and 
 live, as it were, eonrinually before the cross; 
 so slialt thou feel thyself renewed in strength, 
 and giving to the Saviour an undivided and 
 sincere lieart ; he will not only frequently 
 visit, but even take up his abode with thee, 
 confirming thy love, increasing thylaith, and 
 carrying thee from one degree of strength to 
 another, till thou art made perfect in himi 
 
 IX. 
 
 DISGUST AT FRIVOLOUS CONVERSATIGlv. 
 
 How disgusting these vain visits. to my sin 
 sick soul. While they examine and talk of 
 laces, dresses, ornaments, and finery, I w^sli 
 to converse witli the hillocks of mortality, 
 to know the full meaning of that sentence, 
 «* 'Tis the body of the curse," and remember 
 that we should not have needed clothes if sin 
 had not deformed us, and made covermg 
 necessarv for the hiding of our shame. Dear 
 Jesus, faithful friend, when they are teiimg 
 of Hie agreeableness of this party, that set, 
 and the other amusements, I long to get 
 away from among them, to sit at thy feet, 
 to hear thy precious voice, and have com- 
 
^^ RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 munion Avilh thee. They know not the im- 
 port of these words, *• I in them and thou in 
 me, that they may be made peifeet in one.'* 
 Tliey know not the pleasures of the way, or 
 the sweetness of thy love, hut fondly dream 
 of bliss in fleetin.^ enjoyments. They pur- 
 sue a shadow and grasp at a phantom. JSTo. 
 dear Christ, nothing below thyself can satisfy 
 an immortal soul, or give it content. There 
 can be no comfort but in thy favour; the 
 whole circle of worldly delights, will prove 
 themselves in the end, nought save vanitv: 
 and sooner or later never fail to give their 
 followers, vexation of spirit. 
 
 No, 'tis in vain to seek for bliss. 
 For bliss can ne'er be found. 
 Till we arrive whei-e Jesus is. 
 And tread on grace's ground. 
 
 X. 
 
 DELIGHT IN THB COMPANY OF THE PIOUS, AND IN THE 
 EXPECTATION OF HEAVENLY HAPPINESS ; LOVE TO JE- 
 SUS, AND LONGING TO BE WITH HIM IN HEAVEN. 
 
 O MY Cod ! minutes come quickly, but 
 inereies were more swift and quick than they. 
 I looked for sorrow, and behold joy ; for vain 
 conversation, and behold heavenly society ; 
 for trifling and levity, and behold, reproof' 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 exhortation, and edification. Thus it is, that 
 thou graciously dealest with me, hearing the 
 prayers of thine unworthy creature, and 
 blessing her, when she least expects it. O 
 how I love the company of pious souls, and 
 to join in praising the name of Jesus; hut if 
 this be delightful, these imperfect services 
 so pleasant, what must it be to meet v,itli 
 the blessed society above, where, without 
 sin, and free from interruption and clog, 
 Avithout fetters, and without cloy, I shall join 
 with angels, and archangels, and with all 
 the company of heaven. I shall laud, and 
 magnify his glorious name ; evernmre prais- 
 ing thee, and saying, Holy, holy, holy, Lord 
 God of hosts, the whole heaven is full of thy 
 glory ; glory be to thee O Lord. How charm- 
 ing to tell to listening seraphs^ the wonders 
 of redeeming love ; and 
 
 With transpoi-ting joys I'eccniut, 
 The labours ot" my i'ceL ; 
 
 to rehearse my trial- , conflicts, and temptav 
 tions, and in harnionious strains, 
 
 T' ascribe my viet'ry to tlie Lamb, 
 My coiiquesu to his death. 
 
 Faith looks forward with delight to this hap- 
 py period, and my soul stretches her wings, 
 and wishes to be gone. Wo is me, that I 
 ' am constrained to dwell in Mesech, and have 
 
^^ TIELIGTOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 Biy liabitation in ihe tents of* Kedar. O thai 
 I had wings, like a dove, for then would I 
 fiee to the haven of eternal rest, to the bo- 
 som of my God. 
 
 He is aitogetlier lovely, the chief of ten 
 thousand, fairer than the fairest, and the 
 only fair. 
 
 The fondness of the most enraptured lover, 
 the tenderness of tlie dearest friend, is per- 
 fect hatred coiispared with the love of Jesus ; 
 all the ideas, that we can form of things 
 sweet, amiable, and engaging, are mere de- 
 formity to tiie beauties of Emanuel.* 
 
 * " Should there beany true christians, whose own cold, 
 feelings will not suffer them to approve of those rapturous- 
 joys, and ecstatic pleasures, which some persons are, ioi 
 this work, said to experience; jet i hope, that there are- 
 none, or at least, very few, who do not desire to enjoy such- 
 divine favonr, an«i press after them as their privilege. That 
 christian lius but a slender acquaintance witii Emanuel-^ 
 who does not long to know more of his glory, and enjoy, 
 rriore of his love. There are hundi'eds of religious per- 
 sons, whose conduct in all secular affairs evinces them to 
 be ])Ossessed of sound undeistanding ; and with respect to 
 religious things, they soleniidy declare that at times, they 
 have such views of tlieir interest in the favour of God, and 
 such secret communion with the Father and his son Jesus 
 Christ, as to rejoice therein, with joy unspeakable, and full 
 of glury. Why should such persons be censured by their 
 bi'ethren, as enthusiasts ? Ign.orant and irreligious people 
 Will, no doubt, so describe them, and affirm that they are 
 righteous overmuch ; but far be it from professors to adopU* 
 such sentiments. On the contrary, let such cool religionists* 
 be rather animated by these ir.stunces of holy fervour, tcv 
 seek for the same pleasures, and pray that they riiay l)e 
 filled with all the fulness oC Gv,(\." 
 
 See preface to Shrubsoie's Christian Memoirs, 'i his 
 aote is added hv tlie editor. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 97 
 
 His winning; charms aiu? sulficicnl to cap- 
 tivate the most unfceiinj^; breast, and warm 
 the coldest heart. Was ever adamant so Laid 
 as mine, or Hint so stubborn ? w as ever ice so 
 cold, or affections so frt^zen ? yet tise Heav- 
 enly Bridegroom overcomes, llis persuasive 
 energ-y is irresistible, and the marks of love 
 graven in his hands and feet, speak to my in- 
 most soul. Jesus, my beloved, thy name 
 gives joy to my desponding heart, and cheers 
 my drooping spirits ; Jesus ! harmonious 
 sound, life giving word, agahi and again wiH 
 I repeat it with fresh delights,, and exuU in 
 my knowledge of this name. Let ICeaven 
 and earth re-echo with the sweet name of Je- 
 Hus ; and let tiie htfsts on Iiigh, and saints be- 
 low, join hearts and tongues, to celebrate ii. 
 Teach me, ye tuning serapl.s, ye cherul)im, ye 
 anffcls near the tlirone, ye martvi-s, ^e emi- 
 nently pious, who, having escaped the pollu- 
 tions of the world, and through the blood of 
 the Lamb, .gained the conquest, now cast 
 your crowns, adoiing at his feet ; teach ine, 
 
 teach me, some of your sweet hymns, tliat 
 
 1 may bear my humble part in this immortal 
 song. Happy souls, how I envy you ; you 
 have escaped, are free from sin and interrup- 
 tion ; you behold him face to face, and are 
 strengthened to bear the full blaze of his glo- 
 ry ; you have done mourning, and wetting your 
 couch with tears j and now triumpU in th& 
 
^^ RELIGIOUS EXERCISES, 
 
 s 
 
 bliss of Sioii. Doubts and fears are over, 
 antl you are safely landed on tlie wished for 
 shore; you liave now no intervals of dulncss 
 and depression ; no need of sleep or food ; no 
 interruption from the ilesh ; but serve your 
 God, without hindrance, and in the perfection 
 of holiness; you have no tenspting devil, no 
 deceitful heart, no alluring world ; your war- 
 fare is finished, your race is run, and you 
 have found rest for your weary feet. 
 
 Higlily favoured of the Lord, I long to 
 join you ; I long to take my place at your 
 feet, and to leave this vale of teaj's, this 
 thorny wilderness. Come quickly, dear Sav- 
 iour, quickly come, and hear me to thy 
 blest abode. Earth is a tiresome place ; I 
 am quite sick of it, and long to be with thee ; 
 yet would I not repine^ or be impatient ; but 
 resignedly do thy work, and wait thy will. 
 Increase my trials, so thou increase my fiiith, 
 and welcome crosses, so thou sanctify them. 
 Yet, it is but little that I can do for thee ; 
 aiul my utmost services, are not worth the 
 iiau^.e ; therefore, I plead, that thou wouldst 
 hasten thy coming, and deliver me from my 
 bondage ; jet a few more weary steps, and 
 I hope my feet shall rest upon the everlast- 
 ing hills ; and when the awful, though wish- 
 ed for moment arrives, be thou then with 
 me. Put thine everlasting arms underneath 
 me, for my support y give strength and con- 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 9.9 
 
 lidcHce to my departing spirit; let tlie re- 
 eollectioii of the firm covenant between us, 
 then sustain me, and in mercy gild the dark 
 valley, and brigliten the gloomy shadow; 
 enable me, a poor, weak, undeserving sinner, 
 to do honour to religion, in that last finish- 
 ing scene, and to glorify thee, dear Lord, 
 with my expiring breath. 
 
 Then I shall with thee remain. 
 Partner of thine endless reign ; 
 Then thy face, unclouded see. 
 Find my Heaven of Heavens in thee. 
 
 AMEN, HALLELUJAH. 
 
 XI. 
 
 CONTRITION FOR LEVITY, TRIFLING, &C. 
 
 May 28, and 29- 
 
 Under dreadful pressure from the com- 
 mission of two flagrant crimes. 
 
 My anguish, distress, and misery, are 
 gr< ater than I can cx|)ress ; and no ideas can 
 \w. adequate to what 1 feel, for the shocking 
 levity, trilling, idleness, and even deceit of 
 the foregoing day; dear Lord, pity a contrite 
 soul, and heal my broken bon^s. Compas- 
 sionate Redeemer, forgive my guilt, and com- 
 fort my poor wounded spirit. 
 
00 
 
 IIELIGIOUS EXERCISERS. 
 
 O wliat a wretched sinner I am ; what an 
 lib iser of ijiercj. Good Lor;d, 1 am ready to 
 iaint. Pity, pity, I beseecli thee. 
 
 XII. 
 
 TEMPTATION RESISTED AND TURNED TO ADVANTAGE. 
 
 What a dreadful trial this is. I have had 
 a hard eoniiict today. I have sinned, I 
 have grievously sinned, and Satan takes the 
 advantage of my distress, and tempts me not 
 to pray, and cry for mercy, because, says he, 
 you are too bad. and you have abused mercy 
 too much, ever to be forgiven. But, O my 
 Jesus, I have tasted too much of thy marvel- 
 lous sweetness, to forget it, and leave thee so 
 easily. No, I cannot do it. I lay myself at 
 thy feet; and if I die, I am resolved it shall 
 be there, even before the cross. I know that 
 I deserve everlasting damnation ; but this 
 thought, though dreadful, does not pierce 
 me so deeply, as my vile ingratitude to my 
 soul's best friend. I start at the view of my- 
 self. Is it possible ? Three days ago, and I 
 thought I could have gone with thee to prison, 
 and to deatli. Three days ago, and I had 
 an answer for every doubt, for every enemy; 
 my sky was clear, and my cup run over Avith 
 Joy ; now every thing oversets me, and I He 
 
IIELIGIOUS EXERCISES, 
 
 10! 
 
 ju darkness, and gloomy niglif. My trem- 
 bling heart hardly dai'es speak to its injured 
 Lord ; and Satan strives to discourage it 
 more, and more, and even to make it despair; 
 hut blessed he God, yes, I will bless my God, 
 for it is he that does it. The devil has not 
 been able to keep me from a throne of grace, 
 ^vith all his subtlety ; and I have been kneel- 
 ing there ^vith shame and confusion of face. 
 I liave not been able to say one word, bnt on* 
 ]y show my Jesus a wounded, broken, con- 
 trite spirit. 
 
 Dearest Lord, despise not my polluted 
 sacrifice, but give some look of kind compas- 
 sion to a mourning soul. I am all lilth, and 
 guilt, and nncleanness. My soul is covered 
 with leprosy; but I know that if thou wilt, 
 thou canst make ivie clean, and restore me to 
 peace and comfort. 
 
 Let inc humbly plead with my Lord, and 
 earnestly implore his pity. I am a helfdess, 
 imdone sinner, tlrat, without a glance from 
 thee, or a cheering ray, must sink into de- 
 spondency. 
 
 Dear, kind shepherd, for thine own name, 
 and for thine honours sake, recal a wander- 
 ing sheep, and bring me, to feed again in the 
 sweet pastures of thy love. O magnify thy 
 grace in me, a poor silly creature; and be 
 thou glorified by my consolation. I tliank 
 and adore thee, sweet Jesus, for any rills of 
 
 12 
 
102 
 
 HELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 comfort, any glimpse of vclief, to my dis- 
 tressed mirul. Show me again the reviving 
 light of thy countenance ; let me once more 
 enjoy sweet communion with thee, and my 
 trembling soul iind refuge in thy bleeding 
 wounds. Help me to walk more circum- 
 spectly, and never to spend another day in so 
 foolish, vain, and worldly a manner, seeing 
 its dreadful consequences are the wounding 
 of my own soul ; offending my dear Lord ; 
 grieving the Holy Spirit and illling me full of 
 sorrow, darkness, and indevotion. O, give 
 me strength from above, to walk more close- 
 ly with my God. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 eOlStFORT IN RESIGNATION, 
 
 My soul, be of good courage, wait on the 
 Lord» and lie sliall strengtlicn thy heart ; let 
 not (he howling of the savage beasts, Avhich 
 rove about this forest, affright thee, nor the 
 pricking of the thorns, which grow thick 
 throughout the way, deter thee from thy 
 duty; thou shaltuot liaveone more trial than 
 is necessary, nor shall the cross ever be 
 heavier than thou canst bear. 
 
 Jesus will support me through all the 
 dreary wilderiiiess ^ nor ever leave his pi"!- 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 103 
 
 grim coniforne(?s, unless for a season, if need 
 be, that my faith and patience, beini^ tried, 
 may be found not waniini^; and that being 
 piiriiied, as with fire, I may be counted 
 worthy to receive the end of my faith, even 
 the salvation of my soul. Sometimes it is 
 dark enou,u^h within, and the thick clouds of 
 imbelief, almost intercept my sight ; but I 
 call to mind, my past experiences, and re- 
 member tlic old loving kindnesses of my 
 Lord. I think on Christ's unbounded love, 
 and rest with sweet delight upon the gracious 
 promises. I often enjoy inexpressible rap- 
 ture, in the contradiction of my own will, and 
 in the midst of distress, am enabled to sing 
 songs of triumph. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 COMMUNION WITH GOD UNDER DISAPPOINTMENTS. 
 
 A LITTLE time ago, I met with a consider- 
 able disappointment, and in a matter too, 
 that lay much upon my heart ; but I shall 
 never forget the comfort 1 received. I shut 
 myself out from the world, and in bitterness 
 of spirit, fell low before my Saviour. I pour- 
 ed forth floods of tears before him. I showed 
 him my rebellious heart, ready to repine, be- 
 cause things went not as I would have Ihero. 
 
IC'i llELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 My dear Master gave me a. look of kind 
 eompassioo, and with ineffable sweetness 
 smiled graciously upon me. Nature was 
 subdued; Grace triumphant. I left him not, 
 till my whole soul was melted to resij^na- 
 tion ; and I went forth from my chamlier, 
 cheerful and easy, without a single Avish, but 
 in subserviency to the divine direction, and 
 desiring nothing but that God's will may be 
 done in me, and by me. and upon me. I find 
 such happiness in this state of mind, that it 
 is my utmost ambition to attain an entire 
 submission to the decrees of Providence, so 
 that I may receive, what to my short sight- 
 edness appears evil, wi(h the same thankful- 
 ness, as the most desirable things in tlic 
 world ; and even accounting it all joy, that I 
 am thought worthy to suffer, knowing that 
 nothing happens by chance, and every dis- 
 pensation, if my own stubbornness prevent it ^ 
 not, will work for my eternal welfare, and 
 every cross be made a step to glory. 
 
 'Tis my happiness Lelow, 
 Not to live without the Cross; 
 But the Saviour's love to know. 
 Sanctifying every loss- 
 Trials make the promise s\veet. 
 Trials give new lite to prayer. 
 Trials lay me at his fe» t, 
 Lay me low, and keep ine there* 
 
.IvELlGIOUS EXERCISES^ * 
 
 XV. 
 
 W5 
 
 FANTING AFTER GOD, AND DELIGHT IN HIM, AS THE 
 SUPREME GOOD. 
 
 As the reviving stream to tlie thirsty 
 hart ; as the soft nocturnal dews to the 
 pnrched herbage ; and as jilenteous showers, 
 after long drought in summer ; so dear foun- 
 tain head of refreshment, and infinitely more, 
 are the emanations of thy love and the water- 
 ings of thy grace, to my thirsty, dry, and 
 parched soul ; thou art my retreat from the 
 burning sun, and the shelter of my defence- 
 less head. 
 
 To thy bosom do 1 flee for refuge, from 
 the hellish darts of Satan ; and hide myself 
 In thee, from all my ghostly enemies. 
 
 AVhile I abide with thee, I am secure, nor 
 fear to be molested by the most potent foe j 
 but, alas ! fool that I am, my unsteady feet 
 are ever apt to stray, and wander in tempta- 
 tion's flowery paths. 
 
 Througli the prevalence of temptation. 1 
 leave my Lord, enter into the world, defile 
 my robes, fill myself with mourning, and 
 drink deep of the bUter cup of shame a^^d re- 
 morse ; it is astonishing to u^yself. thai after 
 receiving; from thee tlie bread of life, a^ul 
 drink'.ng ^ar;<e drau;:;hts of liviruv vvater, I 
 f:hould ever forsake thy bosom, and le^ve my 
 
.06 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 hiding place. Lord, I love trials, I love 
 crosses, for tliey send me near to thee. 
 Passing througli the lire and water, through 
 torrents of distress, and floods of tribulation, 
 are indeed my sweetest moments, for then I 
 forget the world, and derive my happiness 
 and comfort from thyself alone, my un- 
 changeable and never failing friend. In the 
 day of affliction, thou dost cheer my fainting 
 soul, and revive my drooping spirits. When I 
 am ready to sink under tlie load of grief, and 
 enveloped with deep gloom, my heart and my 
 strength are ready to fail, he supports me in 
 the dark hour, and darting througli the thick- 
 est clouds, with the sunlicams of his love, 
 calms my troubled mind ; gives light and 
 joy, peace and consolation, which the world 
 knows nothing of, and which I would not 
 part w ith for tlirones of royalty, and sceptres 
 of dominion. 
 
 Mistress of the universe, without Christ, 
 I should be miserable; Avith him, no state 
 can be adverse ; for the soul tliat is made 
 one with Jesus, and lives in daily commu- 
 nion with him, has health, friendship, honour, 
 "wealth, pleasure, and satisfaction, more and 
 greater tlian the warmest imagination can 
 conceive, or the most fluent tongue describe. 
 
 Weak of body, sick in soul, 
 Dcprestat heart, and faint Avith fears;. 
 His dear presence make nie wholCj 
 And with sweet comfort cheers: 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISER. i^^ 
 
 Thou of love, the fountain art. 
 Freely let me take of thee. 
 Spring thoH up withip my heartj 
 Kise to all eternity. 
 
 XVL 
 
 OREAD OF INABILITY TO RESIST TEMPTATION •, TRUST 
 IN GOD, AND SUPPLICATION FOR STRENGTH IN Tl:ME; 
 OF NEED. 
 
 I AM often iiiucli distressed by fears of 
 apostasy. This dread upon my mind keeps 
 me very low, and 1 often weep at the very 
 apprehension of it. I cry day and niglit to 
 my God, and importunately wrestle with 
 Ilim for preservini^ grace. 1 expect, unless 
 there be some wonderful intervention of di- 
 vine grace, soon to meet with sore tempta- 
 tions. The fear of reproach, and love oi* 
 creatures, so easily beset me, that I am sure 
 iiotliinj^ less tlian power from on high, can 
 enable me to stand ; my situation at present, 
 is peculiarly happy ; I am in a dear family 5 
 my uncle and aunt are patterns of piety, and 
 every one in the house, to all outward ap- 
 pearance, is a real christian. Here I am 
 encouraged in devotion, and my pious resolu- 
 tions meet M'ith applause ,* but, O what 
 should I do, if I were in an irreligious, or 
 even lukewarm society ; how could I beafr 
 
ioa 
 
 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES- 
 
 to be langlied at for iiij piTciyeness, imd lo 
 be ridiculed for my strictness (o hours of pray- 
 ers ; how would my poor hcurt stand it, if I 
 were surreunded wiilj gay company, and from 
 morning to night, heard nothing but worldly 
 conversation* Do I not find, whenever I go 
 out, the world too apt to engross my thoughts, 
 and steal on my affections ? What sJiould I 
 do, if my nearest eomiexious and dearest rela- 
 tives Vt ere gay and fashionable, and did not 
 live up to the strictest doctrines of the cross ? 
 If left to myself i must undoubtedly fall ; and 
 unless Christ lias pity on me, I must infalli- 
 bly backslide. Dear, tender hearted Shep- 
 herd, hear the groanings of a trembling 
 soul; and let not my importunity offend thee, 
 my immortal interest is at stake, and nothing 
 but thy strength can be sufficient to redeem 
 it from destruction. I rest and depend whol- 
 ly upon thee, for I know that of myself I 
 shall be e\cr prone to wander. 
 
 Dear Jesus I hear, in pity hear me ; after 
 such solemn covenanting ; such awful trans- 
 actions; sueb rapturous endearments, let not 
 earth or hell, iempt me to violate my vows, 
 nor the united force of men and devils, have 
 power to break the bonds, whicli tie me to 
 thee. O let me never perjure myself, never 
 deny or forsake my Lord, for with whom else 
 can I find ecjual happiness, or what shall 
 recompense me for the loss of thy favour. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. J 09 
 
 O, my Redeemer ! I am Avilling to take up 
 llic cross; to go with tliee to prison and to 
 death ; to bear slianie, reproach, contumely, 
 loss of fortune, reputation, and even life it- 
 self, for thy sake, hut not able to do the least 
 of them. It is thou only, Avho hast worked 
 in me the will, that must give me the power. 
 Send down upon me thy heavenly benedic- 
 tion; strengthen me from above. O let me 
 hear thy gracious voice declaring, that 
 strength shall be equal to the day ; then will 
 I lejoice, and leaning on thine all-sufficient 
 grace, go forth conquering, and to conquer; 
 let thine arm be n^y support, and grace my 
 shield. Thy spirit my guide and director, 
 and for thy mercy's sake, ])erfect thine own 
 Avork in the soul of thy willing servant. 
 
 xvir. 
 
 Vi\4\ITY OF THE WORLD, AND JOY IN THE SAVIOUR. 
 
 Let not, Lord, my M-anderivg mind, 
 Follo-w after flcetin}? toys ; 
 Since in tliCL- alosie 1 find. 
 Solid an(! subslantial joys ; 
 Joys, lliat never overj)ast, 
 Through eternity shall last. 
 
 Lord, how happy is the heart. 
 Alter thee, while it aspires, 
 'i'rue arid faithful, as thou art, 
 Thou shalt answer its desires ; 
 It shall see the glorious scene, 
 Of thine everlasting reign. 
 K 
 
KIO RELir,IOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 How corafortable is it, thus to enjoy nsj 
 Saviour ; how much more satisfactory, and 
 siibstaiitial is this bliss, than that to be gain- 
 ed by a fevf minutes idle conversation, or 
 those trifling employments, \\liich have late- 
 ly occupied my mind. Lord, show me more 
 of the vanity of the world, and my great need 
 ot thee. 
 
 XYIIT. 
 
 CONTRITION FOR MISPENT TIIME, AND RESOLUTIONS TO 
 IMPROVE IT IN FUTURE. 
 
 Septeraber 5. 
 
 Time is short ; how seasonable then is tlie 
 advice of the apostle : " Use the world as not 
 abusing it, for the fashion of this world pass- 
 eth away." 
 
 When I look back, and consider how often, 
 and how long, I abused the good gifts of God; 
 not receiving thom with thankfulness, but em- 
 ploying them solely foi' the gratiiication of 
 my sinful and corrupt desires, I am filled with 
 the deepest horror aud mourn, with heartfelt 
 grief, ray vile ingratitude. 
 
 When* I review the hours and days, the 
 inonths and years, of sin and folly, which 
 have passed over my guilty head, and reflect 
 on the amazing, unparalleled iniquities which 
 
HELtGIOUS EXERCISES. ^ ^^ 
 
 i liave conimiUed ; rccolloct the gracious op- 
 poi'Uinilies, which I have mirimproyed ; the 
 nuiiibeiless sermons and conversations of pi- 
 ous tVicnds, and godly ministcis, which I have 
 slighted ; the strivings of the blessed spirit, 
 which I have resisted, and with all the con- 
 tinuance of distinguished mercies on so unde- 
 serving a wretch, my very knees smite to- 
 gether, with trembling and confusion, and I 
 grow pale with sorrow and regret. It is as- 
 tonishing to myself, that I have been so long 
 spared ; that I have yet a day of grace ; and 
 I cannot but behold myself as a miracle of 
 mercy. 
 
 I shudder at the very thoughts of what 
 Avould have become of me, if God had stopt 
 iTic in my career, and cut short my days, as 
 I justly merited, but a year, or a year and a 
 half ago. I was then in tJie very height of 
 folly, in open rebellion against ihe majesty 
 of Heaven, and running headlong to destruc- 
 tion. I had backslidden, fori::otten mv first 
 love, and was ten times worse than ever I had 
 been in my life. Adored be the divine love, 
 which had better things in store for me, and 
 which by amazing and powerful, though in 
 general secret and invisible means, called me 
 to himself again, and has gone on. fulfilling 
 his own work in my heart till now. through 
 j^race I can rejoice in> and long for that hour, 
 which then I dreaded^ even to think upon. 
 
^ ^ 2 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 Oh that I could now redeem the time : 
 since it is iioT^ossible to recal the precious 
 rnoments which ai'c gone, bearing on their 
 wings nothing but llie black account of my 
 transgressions ; may I endeavour to retrieve 
 my past misconduct, by my future vigilance. 
 Oh ! that I could spend one day well ; one 
 day wisely and without waste of time. O ! 
 how much of this invaluable and precious 
 blessing is spent ; not merely on things un- 
 necessary, but on things hurtful, and which 
 fetter my feet, and hinder me in my progress. 
 
 What a great portion of my time, is devot- 
 ed to sleep and meals; to outward adornings; 
 to provision for the flesh ; to vain visits ; to 
 unprofitable conversation ; to idle curiosity ; 
 and ten thousand other trifles, which too oft- 
 en occupy the greater part of the day. 
 
 "What an important work have I to do, and 
 how little tinte to do it in ? O that I may 
 make my calling and election sure. I do not 
 Ivnow, but my journey may be nearly finish- 
 ed, and ia a few weeks, perhaps a few hours, 
 the awful summons may arrive, and warn me 
 to quiit this tenement of clay, and to appear 
 "before the great judge of quick and dead. O 
 that I may be found ready, sincerely penitent, 
 and humbly contrite ; and when the solemn 
 register of all my secret, as well as outward 
 sins, is opened, may they be found'crossed h\ 
 his precious death and merits. 
 
RRLIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 11, 
 
 Awake, awake, O iny Iethari»;ic soul ! sleep 
 no longer on the brink of a precipice. Con- 
 tent not thyself, with liaving done something, 
 but press forward continually, with thy ut- 
 most power. Make the most of the short 
 span allotted. tJiee, and never rest satisfied 
 with any thing short of perfection. Yet a 
 little while, and that cry shall sound in thine 
 ears ; " Behold the bridegroom cometh ;*' 
 watcij, tliat thou mayest be ready to meet 
 bim, to meet him with joy, and to be receiv- 
 ed by liim into that everlasting kingdom, pre- 
 pared for thee, by his love, before the foun- 
 dation of Hie world. 
 
 My God and my strength, thou wilt short- 
 ly come with power and great glory, to judge 
 the world, and to separate the sheep from the 
 goats ; make me diligent, and prepare me for 
 thy coming ; and grant that I may be one of 
 those, who will sit on thy right hand, and 
 dwell for ever with thee, in the mansions of 
 unfading bliss and evergrowing pleasure. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 ON THE LORD'S DAY. THANKSGIVING FOR RESTORED 
 HEALTH, AND RENEWED ACT OF SELF DEDICATION TO 
 GOD . WITH PRAYER TO BE ENABLED TO ACT WORTHY 
 OF THE HONOURABLE NAME OF A CHRISTIAN. 
 
 Sunduif. 
 
 This is the day which the Lord has made; 
 I will rejoice and be glad in it. The sabbath 
 
 K 2 
 
114 HELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 and service of tlic Lord, shall be the joy and 
 solace of my soul. 
 
 I will pay my vows now in (he sight of all 
 thy people, and enter into thy courts with 
 thanksgiving and praise, for the wonderful 
 mercies, vouchsafed me throughout my life ; 
 particularly for thy late njereies of comfort 
 on a bed of sickness, restoration from the 
 brink of the grave,* and an agreeable and 
 safe journey. Lord, liere I am. Receive 
 this renewed oblation of myself to thee ; not 
 indeed, for the merit of it, but for the sake 
 and worthiness of my dear Redeemer. 
 
 Help me this day, and all the days of my 
 life, to walk worthy the honourable name I 
 bear ; as one signed with the sign of the 
 cross, and may I never be ashamed of the 
 faith of Clirist crucified; but as a good sold- 
 ier and servimt of the Lord Jesus, figlit man- 
 fully under this banner against the world, 
 the flesh, and the devil. Compassionate 
 High Priest, give me, I beseech thee, con- 
 tinual supplies of strength from thine own 
 imbounded fulness ; and in thy outer court 
 this day, let me be greatly refreshed and 
 
 * The date oF these meditations is fixed by tliis cii-enra- 
 sttmce. It is known in the domestic circle, tliat Miss Lau- 
 rens was in serious danger oF dying in England, From the 
 measles, soon aFter she leFt Charleston, in the IGth. year oF 
 her age ; and, hefore she went to France, in her 19th. year. 
 The original is without date as to tlie year. 
 
 Editor. 
 
RELIGIOUS EXEttCISES. 
 
 115 
 
 sti'engtliciied to go on my way, O let this 
 sabbath be to lae an emblem of tlie eternal 
 sabbatism, Avhich I liope ere long" to enjoy, 
 vith all the faithful, in thy glorious king- 
 dom, 
 
 O give me a glimpse of thy countenance, 
 and reveal thyself to my seeking soul, tlirough 
 the lattice of divine ordinances. Banisli ev- 
 ery Avorldly thought, and drive from me all 
 vain ideas. 
 
 Come, holy spirit ! come ; O come, and 
 cleanse my heart ; prepare it for the rect^p- 
 tion of my divine guest ; set it totally free 
 from all earthly solicitude ; and make it a 
 fit habitation for the ever glorious Trinity, 
 
 O thou, who standest knocking at the door, 
 with joy to tJiec I open ; come in, and sup 
 with mc; come in, and take up thine eternal 
 abode, and let me ever dwell in thee, and 
 thou in me. 
 
 XX, 
 
 GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENTS FOR RF:NEWING GRACE, 
 AND AN ASCRIPTION OF EVERY ATTAINMENT AND 
 BLESSING TO FREE, UNMERITED GRACE. 
 
 What has God wrought? O, my soul! 
 look, and look, and love, and wonder ! How 
 am I changed I Ilowdilfercnt are my thoughts. 
 
i ' 6 RELIGIOUS EXERCISES. 
 
 my views, my pursuits to what they were ! and 
 blessed be God that 1 can say, how diftereiit 
 is my practice. I now love what I hated, and 
 abhor wliat was my former delight. Ador- 
 ed be grace. Not unto me, O Loitl ! not unto 
 me, but to thy free and unmerited goodness, 
 be all the glory of my salvation. 1 had nei- 
 ther power nor inclination, to part with earth, 
 or seek for Heaven ; but grace has done the 
 work ; convinced me of sin, and made me in 
 love with Holiness. It has sliown me my 
 own inability to every good thing, and my 
 need of so all sufficient a Saviour as Jesus is, 
 
 Grace ! 'tis a sweet, a charming theme, - 
 My tliousj^hts rejoice at Jesus' name ; 
 Ye ani^els dwell upon the sound, 
 Ye Heavens reflect it to the ground. 
 
 I was quickened by grace, when dead in 
 trespasses and sins ; by grace, alone, I stand ; 
 by grace only do I make any attainments ; 
 and without grace I am nothing ; can do 
 nothing but sin. The building was begun 
 by grace, and the topstone shall be raised 
 with shouting grace, grace unto it. Through 
 time and eternity, grace shall be still my 
 theme; now in time, I can only lisp its 
 praises ; then in eternity, when my stam- 
 mering tongue is unloosed in a nobler, sweet- 
 er song, I will sing its power to save, and 
 join with all the nations of the ransomed, in 
 
RELIcyiOUS EXERCISES. ^ ^ "^ 
 
 i-dioing, and re-echoing tliroiigli (lie vast ex- 
 panse of Heaven, the wonders of redeeming 
 grace, and in ascribing to the Lamb, the 
 blessing, honour, and glory, due unto his 
 
 name. 
 
 O what immoi'tal joys T felt, 
 And raptures all divine, ' 
 Wlien Jesus told me I was his. 
 And my heloved mine. 
 
 Blessed Saviour! I adore thy wonderful 
 goodness, to so undeserving a sinner, to so 
 vile a rebel ; any hope of pardon, any inter- 
 yal of peace, was more than I could possibly 
 merit or expect at thy hands ; and yet thou 
 hast given me a full assurance of forgiveness, 
 and often refreshed me with sensible mani- 
 festations of thy good will toward me. Prais- 
 ed be thy Name. 
 
 1 charge you all, y«u earthly toys. 
 Approach not to disturb my joys ; 
 Nor sin, nor hell, come near my heart, 
 Nor cause my Saviour to depart. 
 
APPENDIX, ]S°. v. 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM MRS. RAMSAY's DIARY. 
 
 Saturday, July IQth. 1791. 
 
 My feet had well nigh slipped, through 
 the prevalence of my easily besetting sin ; 
 nevertheless, I laid me down to sleep, rejoic- 
 ing that I had not utterly fallen. Lord, make 
 me at all tinjes watchful. 
 
 17th. Lord, may this be a sanctified sab- 
 bath ; a day to be remembered for holy res- 
 olutions and enabling grace. I am weak ; O 
 when shall the time of full strength come. 
 In all the great trials and lesser vexations of 
 life, may patience have its perfect work, till 
 I lie down where the wicked cease from 
 troubling, and the weary are at I'est. 
 
 19th. I thank God, for the ease and cheer- 
 fulness of this day ; and that, in spite of se- 
 cret griefs, and spiritual conflicts, my soul 
 and body do both sweetly repose themselves 
 in the God of my salvation. 
 
 20th. O day, blackened with sin, and spot- 
 ted by transgression ! how long, O liord ! 
 how long ; when shall I advance in the spir- 
 
DIARr. 
 
 il9 
 
 itual life, and not lliiis wound my peace, and 
 disgrace my profession. I thank God, that 
 my heart aches. O ^et it never be hardened 
 through the deceilfuhiess of sin. Oh, my 
 God! liow lateJy hath thine affiiclive Provi- 
 dence been \v ringing my heart, with a two- 
 fold anguish ; the loss of my sweet baby, 
 and the consideration of those sins, which 
 required this cliastisement ; and yet, how^ 
 prone am I to return to folly. Oh ! for the 
 grace of true repentance, and of unfeigned 
 resignation. 
 
 27th. The two last days, have been days 
 of mournful walking. Oh how does the re- 
 membrance of my sweet Fanny press upon 
 my memory ; and how good is God, that 
 thougli cast down, yet my heart is kept from 
 murmuring, and aches more for my sorrow 
 causing sins, than for the sorrow itself: 
 thanks be to Christ, who has purchased a 
 Heaven for us, where wc shall be without 
 sin, and of course without sorrow. 
 
 2Stli. Lord, make me ashamed of my sins, 
 and give me a holy fortitude to resist ; and 
 let me be making continual war against them, 
 till grace shall conquer, and death set me be- 
 yond their reach. 
 
 29th. Oh power of sin, how great art thou ! 
 Lord, give me strength. 
 
 30th. JMy heart is ready to break under a 
 sense of sin, and to cry out, 1 shall one day 
 
\ 20 DIARY. 
 
 fall by Ihe hands of these iiihie enemies. Oh 
 thou great deliverer, Deatli ! how pleasant 
 is tlie thought that thou wilt free me from 
 this body of corruption ; hold thou me up, O 
 Lord ! that all the days of my appointed 
 time, I may walk very hunildy and inourful- 
 ]y, under a sense of mine iniquities. Cleanse 
 thou me from secret faults, and let no open, 
 or presumptuous sin, get the better of ine. 
 Lord, I am weak ; strengthen me ; I am bowed 
 down under thy chastisement ; yet so mufc!i 
 lighter is it than my guilt, that I am filled 
 witli wonder at thy compassions and long 
 suffering. 
 
 31st. Prepare me, O God, for the unknown 
 events of this day ; and at all times, keep me 
 humble and fearful. 
 
 August ith. Oh ! easily besetting sin ; 
 when shall the time come, that thy power 
 will be broken, and my poor soul find rest. 
 Lord, make me diligent, in self examination, 
 and let not any sin have dominion over me. 
 
 5ih, In six and in seven troubles, I have 
 found thee, O Lord, my help. Forsake me 
 not now, O my God I I am most unworthy. 
 Lord, even to look up unto thee ; yet to whom, 
 Lord, should I go, but unto thee, who hast 
 words of Eternal Life, and the keys of uni- 
 versal Providence. Unto thee, commit I my 
 ways ; and on thee, as from whom alone ca» 
 come help, do I cast my cares. 
 
1 M 
 i>iAia'. ^ ~ 
 
 Gtli. These three past days have been Islack 
 days; Lord, deliver lue from sisi, especially 
 from those, which so easil> heset, and so oft- 
 en oppress me. My soul lon.^s for deliver- 
 ance and rest. Holy Spirit of sanctification, 
 dwell and rule in me, and deliver me from 
 this horrible subjection. 
 
 10th. Mr. Ilollinshead baptized Mr. L. 
 Hamsay's little boy, naming him David. 
 3Iay God bless the infant, and make it in- 
 deed a child of grace. 
 
 12th. Here I still remain a monument of 
 forbearing mercy. Oh inilni(e compassion, 
 that I should be out of Hell ! Oli Lord ! the 
 piessure of my sins is indeed very great. 
 Oh ! for thy mercy's sake, deliver me. I 
 am weary of my life, because of my daily 
 sins; and wbesoas, I on-ht to have made 
 progress. Despair is souic^inies ready to 
 overcome me, through tlic power of sin. 
 Lord, help uje, ennl>le me to endure to the 
 end. Lord, al>an<5o:t me not, for I grow 
 weaker and weaker. ^ 
 
 15th. and 161h. l^ruly, t!i«' pressure of guut 
 is upon me, and I fee] astonished that my bed 
 lias not this night beesi m:ide in Hell. O 
 Avretched nn; ! when shall 1 be delivered from 
 the body of this death, and from the power 
 of this sin. Oh, how it cleaves to me, how 
 it besets me, how it conquers me, and then 
 leaves me almost in the depths of despair. 
 
 L 
 
i;5-2 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 I*orc1, I treniblej and my soul is sore pained 
 witliin nic. Sorely these repeated rebellions 
 are forfeiting all thy mercies, and I need 
 dread, lest all sorts of bereavements happen 
 to me ; I need be in horror, lest the worst of 
 bereavements happen to me ; even that I be 
 bereaved of (he light of God's countenance, 
 and damnation be my portion. Oh ! vilest 
 and most complicated of sinners that I am ! 
 Terror and dismay take hold upon me. O, if 
 men knew me as I am known to my God, I 
 should be trampled under foot ; the ehureh. 
 would disown me ; the greatest sinners would 
 abominate me, my husband, that loves audi 
 thinks well of me, would wonder at me, and 
 mourn, and I should be hated of all men.=^' 
 
 * These self abasements and cotKleninations, may appear 
 to some to be extravagant. To this it is replied, that they 
 are warranted by the descriptions of human depravity, givea 
 in holy writ. "And God saw that the wickedness of man 
 ■was great in the earth, and tliat every imagination of the 
 thoughts of his heart, was only evil continually." Genesisc 
 vi. 5. •' The heart of man is deceitful above all things, and 
 desperately wicked. Who can know it." Jeremiah, xvii. 9^ 
 St. Paul calls himself ** the chief of sinners." 2 Timothy i. 
 15. It is also to be observed, that they M'ho do not practise 
 self examination, are unacquainted with the workings of 
 their own minds, and strangers to heart i-eligion, are not 
 competent judges. It is with holiness as with knowledge- 
 He who knows most, is most sensible of the defects of his 
 knowledge. They who have alb;ined the highest eminence 
 in religion are most deeply impressed with a sense of their 
 own unv/orthiness. As every exercised christian knows 
 more of the sinfulness of his own heart, than he possibly 
 can of tlie heart of another, the i)ractical result is, that every 
 auch christian is apt to think worse of himseif, than of any 
 
DIARY. 
 
 122 
 
 Lord have mercy upon me! Christ have mer- 
 cy upon me, a most miserable sinner, and let 
 anything Iiappen to me, rather than I sliould 
 be easy in this dreadful, evil state of sin. 
 Oil ! Holy Spirit, strive with me. Oh ! gra- 
 cious friend of sinners, intercede for me. Oh, 
 merciful Father ! have pity upon me, and 
 give me power against sin, and more and 
 more brokenness of heart, because of it. 
 Lord, I can hardly endui^e the view of my 
 own heart, vet forbid that it should be hidden 
 from me. Jesus, liOrd, I fly to thy cross ; 
 for sorrow taketh hold of me, and yet so w eak 
 am I, that I have no power against the very 
 sins which do so pierce me through. 
 
 Octohei' 19th. As this day, O Lord I is stain- 
 ed with sin, so let it be marked by the deep- 
 other person. Before ihe charge of weakness, rant, or etV' 
 thusiasm, is brought against the subject of these memoirs, 
 it is reconi mended to the ohjeclorto make the following ex- 
 periment. Let him take the same pains she did, to acquire 
 self knowledge, by daily self examination, ny reacting the 
 "Word of God, and comparing herself with it ; by studying su<h 
 practical authors on the •ubject, as Owen on Indwelling Sin, 
 and Flavel on Keeping the Heart ; by daily prayer to (iod, to 
 search and try her ; to discover her tohcrself, by ditily watch- 
 ing the origin and motives of her thoughts, words, and ac- 
 tions ; and by comparing them all, with the divine cominjjnds, 
 to do ail for the glory of God ; " to love her Maker with all 
 her lieart," and " her neighboui- as Ijcrself," attd then he will 
 be more capable of deciding whether the self abasements 
 and eond« mnation which run through her diary, unseen by 
 anv human being while s!ie lived, was the language of a 
 weak, enlbii'iastic person, or the genuine expressions of real, 
 ^nafiected humility, grounded on self kuovv ledge. 
 
 Editor. 
 
I«4 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 iiess of my repentance. Let liie blood of 
 Jesus cleanse uie fioni my deiilements ; and 
 the grace of thy Holy Spirit, pievent me from 
 such repeated falls ; and save me from fall- 
 ing finally. Oh ! sins against vows ; sins 
 against light ; how do they pierce my heart. 
 Surely, Oh Lord ! there are none that do eat 
 of thy bread, who lift up their heel against 
 thee, like me. Lord save me or I perish. 
 Oh ! I would not let thee go ; but alas, alas, 
 how often do I act as if I knew thee not, 
 much less as if I cleaved to thee. Lord have 
 pity on a sinner. 
 
 21st. Nanny, our servant, died in an instant 
 of an apoplexy. Lord, make it useful to the 
 young people in our family, and may we all 
 improve by the warning. 
 
 J^oveniber 2d. Alas, Lord, how wretched 
 am I, while the desire of mv heart is, I trust, 
 truly turned to thee ; yet I often fall into 
 such sins, as bring horror upon me. Oh my 
 God ! I am weakness itself. Strengthen me 
 by thy grace, and preserve me from secret 
 sins, and from presumptuous faults, and en- 
 able me to walk watchfully. 
 
 Lord, I recommend mvself to thee, in the 
 present intricacy of several of my worldly 
 concerns. I bless ihee for thy counsels and 
 ehastenings; give me wisdom and prudence in 
 al! my walk, a n s!.i:;ned toniocr, and a hum- 
 ble mind, and cnahje me iionderins; all these 
 
r 
 
 DIARY. ^ '^^^ 
 
 tilings in my heart, and remembering tliy for- 
 mer loving kindnesses, and thy tried faithful- 
 ness and compassions, amidst the storms of 
 inward (emptation, and outward troubles, to 
 liave my heart at peace, being stayed upon 
 thee. Lord, if any heavy trial is before me, 
 help me to go tlirough it with becoming for- 
 titude, and with great meekness ; and walk- 
 ing by faith and not by sight, may I humbly 
 and patiently wait the great unfoldings of thy 
 providence. 
 
 Lord, assist me in my preparations for the 
 solemnities of the ensuing sabbath. Break 
 my heart down, under a sense of sins, and 
 then enable me to look to Jesus. 
 
 5th. Lord, I thank thee who art a God, 
 that givest as well as takest. I praise thee, 
 that I have one child in heaven. Lord have 
 Mercy on those, which remain on earth, and 
 in thine own good time and way, bring them 
 also to the kingdom of thy glory. Lord, help 
 me in the time which is before me, to Avalk 
 in a humble, strict and watchful manner, and 
 not by any indulgence in sin to be laying up 
 sorrow for my wretched self. Jesus, hear 
 and hell) a sinner, who casts herseU* on thee. 
 
 lOth.TiOrd be pleased to give me repentance 
 
 for the sins of this day, and power against 
 
 all sin : but especially against that, which 
 
 tliou. O God, secst, and my own heart know- 
 La 
 
126 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 etli, to be my easily besetting sin.=^ Lord 
 suffer me not to fall into presiiosptions, and by 
 
 * What is so patlietically deplored thi'Oiighont this diary, 
 as the easily hescttiiig siti of its author, rtie editor declares 
 himself to be wholly ignorant of. An easily besetting sin, is 
 generally understood to be a sin'to the commission of which, 
 there is a strong |)rf)j)ensity, either from the constitution, or 
 temperament of the body, or some peculiar circumstances 
 of the times, of situation, profession, of mind, body or out- 
 ward estate. After twenty four years of wed«1ed life, and a 
 <listinct recollection of all the scenes thereof, the editor can- 
 not ascertain what was really intended bv the sin, so i-epeat- 
 cd!y confessed, and resolved against, under the definition of 
 the easily besetting sin, of the subject of these memoirs. In 
 the whole course of that time he never once saw her so far 
 under the itiHuencc of resentment or passion, as to approacli 
 the confines of sinful auger, or even to be inconsistent with 
 female decoru»n. If she excelled in any one vii-tue, more 
 than another, it was meekness. He also declares that in the 
 same period he never knew her to utter any thing that could 
 be called envious, slanderous, or bitter language ; or do any 
 thing that appeared to be the result of malice or ill will. 
 That she received slights is well known ; but it is also known 
 that she resented them no farther than by avoiding their 
 repetition, and by praying for their authors. Of a proud 
 overbearing dis])nsilion, there was not the least appearance. 
 Asa wifeasul mother, her oidy fault, if such it may be called, 
 was the excess of her love, tenderness, and anxiety, for the 
 coii.fort and ha]»piness of her husband and children, induc- 
 ing her to make too large sacrifices of her own enjoyments, 
 for their accommodation. Of any habit of acting wrong, of 
 any propensity to it, or even of any such deliberate act, 
 there is no recollection. She often reproached herself for 
 it doing all that might have been done for restraining ser- 
 vants iVom vice, particularly intemperance, antl resolved 
 upon stricter measures, and particularly, that each young 
 negro, in addition to moral means,*for ])rcventing habitual 
 drunkenness, should be severely chastised for each and 
 every single act of intoxication. It is possilde tliat this laxity 
 of family discipline, may liave been alluded to; but it is 
 more prohahle, it referred to something only known to her- 
 
DIARY. 
 
 127 
 
 ihj great niercv, keep me fioni the dominion 
 of any sin. O friend of sinners, have pity on 
 110, and make me dread sin above all ihings, 
 anS walk >viih holy fear, at a distance from 
 aJl the occasions of it. Lord, save me or I 
 perish. 
 
 iilst. Lord fill me with shame, for the sins 
 of this day, and deliver me fi*om the power of 
 sin. Lord, my soul loveth thee, and I groan 
 imder this body of conniption ; make thy 
 grace sufficient for me. 
 
 25th. My husband set out for Columbia. 1 
 jrray God bless ajjd preserve him : the same 
 day, my dear liitle Patty fV^llinto the parlour 
 lire ; but by God's good providence I was en- 
 abled to snatch her out, and smother the 
 Hame, before she had received any consider- 
 able injury; may God's goodness deeply af- 
 fect me ; and may I show forth liis praise in 
 a holy life. Lord, pluck her as a brand from 
 everlasting burnings, and make her t!iine own 
 child. 
 
 Becemher 2Sth. In all my soul perplexity, 
 I would come to God; he is a tried refiige, 
 and has brought me in spite of sin tJius far. 
 Oh, my good God I forsake me not now ; but 
 be my very present help in trouble ; to thee 
 do I pour out my soul, and from thee do I 
 
 soU", such ;is fo'dncss ami l.-ui^nor in perform Ids: religious 
 duties, iuu! »tciK iencies in love to her Maker and litdeemer. 
 
 Editor. 
 
128 MARY. 
 
 expect, and look for that succour, wliicli I 
 so greatly need, and vvbicli none but thou 
 canst afford. Lord, I cast myself on thy 
 mercy in Christ. Strengthen thou me, lest 
 I faint, or utterly fall away. 
 
 Jlugust 12, 1794. Many people are ill just 
 now, and deaths frequent ; and although the 
 reigning disorder is said to be confined to 
 strangers or people wlio live irregularly, yet 
 when so many are sick, and dying around us, 
 it is a call to all, to gird up their loins, to 
 trim their lamps, and to be in readiness. 
 XiOrd, make me at ail times ready; tliat so 
 thy coming, under whatever circumstances, 
 and at whatever hour, may be a matter of 
 joy, and not of terror to my poor soul. Oh 
 be pleased to give my dear husband judg- 
 ment, and steadiness of mind, in the duties 
 of his profession, and preservation from the 
 dangers of it. My gracious Saviour be tliou 
 pleased to deliver me from being under the 
 dominion of any sin ; and grace most partic- 
 ularly, to watch against the assaults of my 
 easily besetting sin ; that so this iniquity, 
 may never be my ruin. 
 
 16th. Alas, O my soul, on a review of the 
 week past, how little cause have I for rejoic- 
 ing ; my dear Sabina lias been brought through 
 her weaning at a critical time, beyond all my 
 expectation, and is healthy and thriving ; the 
 rest of mv children ami family well, when so 
 
DIAKY. i~9 
 
 Biany are sick, dvhig, or dead, around us ; 
 but what liavc I reiideird to the Loiti for all 
 these bciieiUs ? It has been a week marked 
 by follv, and stained h\ sin, I liave been 
 careless in all my duties, and have fallen into 
 sins, over which I have again and again 
 mourned, and into which I had hoped never 
 to fall again ; and now, O my God ! if thou 
 shouldst be strict to mark what is done 
 amiss, how should I abide. I desire to ap- 
 ply to that grace, which is my only refuge. 
 Oh Lord, accept and pardon me in Christ ; 
 enable me, all the remainder of my life, to 
 walk under a huinbling sense of sin, so as al- 
 ways to have a broken and contrite heart; 
 and Oh niy God ! as the thing which I desire 
 of thee above any thing else in the world, and 
 Avhat thou alone canst give, be pleased to 
 save me from the power and tyranny of sin, 
 and grant me inward and outward sanctifiea- 
 tion, as a means of avoiding sin ; enable me 
 to keep the resolution which I now make to 
 perform daily self examination, with more 
 diligence and strictness, than I have lately 
 done, and constantly to meditate on tlie aw- 
 fulness of making a religious profession, with- 
 out a daily serious care, to be holy in thought, 
 Avord, and deed. 
 
 ISth. With bitterness of spii'it, I desire to 
 liumble myself before the Lord, under a re- 
 coPicctlon of all ray past sins, and more espe- 
 cially, of the sins committed since I liave do- 
 
i30 DIARY. 
 
 voted myself to him, iind chosen him to he 
 my God. Oh, these are the sore hurdens, 
 the grievous distresses ; after having known 
 the goodness of the Lord, so repeatedly to 
 rebel against him. Oh my Heavenly Fa- 
 ther! be pleased to give me more wisdom 
 and more grace for the future ; my soul pant- 
 eth after holiness, and the most earnest de- 
 sire of my heart, is to cleave more diligently 
 to the way of thy statutes. I would wish to 
 be more diligent in self examination ; more 
 watchful to prayer ; more steady in resist- 
 ing temptation ; more attentive to provi- 
 dences, and more careful in the instructions 
 which I give my dear children, and in the 
 example which I set before them. Lord, I 
 am not sufficient for these things ; but hold 
 thou me up, and I shall be safe, and my feet 
 shall not slide to fall, 
 
 :23d. On a review of the last week, I find 
 that mv mind has been much exercised in 
 spiritual things ; tltat I have been more 
 earnest in private prayer, and soupjit my 
 God in the >vatches of the night ; and yet I 
 cannot perceive an increase in sanetilication, 
 according to my desire; nor that strength 
 against sin, which my soul pants after. Oh 
 my God, be pleased to give me holiness ; en- 
 able me to go on, to serve my blessed Sav- 
 iour fully, and to walk with that upright- 
 ness, that uniformity, tliat heavenly minded- 
 ncss,, which I owe to him who has bought me 
 
DIARY. 
 
 131 
 
 with so great a price, and ^vlio^ic mercy ant' 
 love toward me, is so great and so constant. 
 Oh that I could hate sin, not only in my 
 judgment, but in my practice, by avoiding it, 
 and every tiling that leads to it. in thought, 
 word, or deed. Oh how happy are they, 
 whose warfare is ended, and who have an 
 everlasting period put to all their sins, and 
 sorrows and temptations, and are safe in the 
 new Jerusalem. Hold thou me up, O Lord, 
 and I also shall be safe ; but if thou leave 
 me but a moment to my own wretched and 
 sinful propensities, I perish, and am undone. 
 
 Septemhev 22, 179+. Mrs. Fetrie died of a 
 six days illness ; having been married to Mr. 
 George Fetrie, only twelve days. God grant 
 that no such awful and awakening providence, 
 as the removal of a young person, so lately 
 full of life, and healtli, aud strength, should 
 pass without some serious improvement; 
 some earnest desire to have my loins girt, 
 and my lamp buip.ing. 
 
 October 6th. My sister Finckney died, hav- 
 ing been generally delirious fsom Friday; and 
 her speech so thickened, that though she at- 
 tempted it in the intervals of reason, she 
 never could make us understand what she 
 wished to say to us. Miss Futerell and my- 
 self were constantly with her; but my heart 
 is too full to write on this subject. Lord, 
 tbou knowest my groanings, and my sighings 
 are not hid from thee ; commiserate thy poor. 
 
*-^- DIARY. 
 
 sinful, suficiin/^ creature; ami fill me wilh 
 luimilK;^ asid rcHigiiation, under this exceed- 
 ingly heavy stroke of thy Ps'ovideiice. 
 
 13ih. llaviui:; had continued sickness of 
 body, and a mind fuii of grief ,* tliough I trust 
 entirely subsiiitled, and rcsig;ned to the divine 
 ^vjll, and defiling to Ihid life, health, and 
 peace in tiie cross, on the second of Novem- 
 ber, I became so seriously ill, as to fill all 
 about me with appreliensions for my life; in 
 which stale, i remained for two days ; and 
 for five nsore, in a state of very deplorable 
 weakness; it pleased Ilim, ho^Never, in whose 
 hands are Ihe issues of life and death, to raise 
 me from the bed of languishing; and upon 
 the whole, my general health is better thaa 
 it had been before. Oh that by all means? 
 God may draw me to himself; and nevear 
 cease strivina; with me, till I am wholly his. 
 
 J\'*ovcml}er 21st. Dr. Ramsay left me to gor 
 to Columbia; I thank God he was not called 
 to this duty, at the time, I was so extremely 
 ill. May God bless and take care of this 
 dearest and best of friends ; and return him 
 in health and safety to me. 
 
 February 7th. 1795. Out of the deptli^ 
 have I cried unto tiiee, O Lord, and thou 
 hast heard, and helped me. Out of the 
 depths now I cry unto thee again, O my 
 God. Let not my grievous sins stand as n 
 separating wall, between thee and my soul z 
 but for the sake of Christ, mv atonement amU 
 
DIARY. 
 
 iiilerccssoi', hear ihmi mc, and lielp, for from 
 thee, alone, can lielp come. 1 am in nti-aifs, 
 trials and perplexities of soul, and of body. 
 My outward affairs can only be helped by 
 thy providence ; my spiritual troubles by thy 
 ?i;race. Creatures can neither underslaml, 
 nor assist me ; to thee, therefore, the giver 
 of all good, and the source of all consolation, 
 do I come, and humbly commit all my cares 
 to thee, who carest for sparrows; how much 
 more for thy redeemed ones. Surely I iiavc 
 found thee a prayer answering God, and that 
 in some very remarkable instances ; aud 
 >vhereas, I might have been in hell ; and 
 there deserve now to be ; instead of being 
 here, 1 have reason to say, hitherto, hath 
 the Loi*d helped me ; and yet my wicked, 
 faithless heart, dares to doubt, if he will yet 
 help me. Oh my good God, whose provi- 
 dence is over all thy works, and whose long 
 suffering is infinite, punish not this faithless- 
 ness of thy poor, broken, and bruised reed, 
 by leaving me to myself; but add this to 
 all thy former loving kindnesses, to hear 
 me in the requests which- I now offer unto 
 thee, and send me a gracious answer ac- 
 cording to my singular necessities ; calm, 
 O Lord, the tumult of my thoughts; com- 
 pose my disturbed mind, and make me low- 
 ly and resigned before thee, as becomes so 
 
 great a sinner. If thou art pleased to an- 
 M 
 
134 
 
 DI/UIY. 
 
 swer my prayer, and yet that it should be in 
 a way of affliction, let it suffice me, (hat the 
 Lord reigneth ; and may not a mui'inuring 
 thought come across my breast ; but looking 
 unto Jesus, who, for my sake, endured the 
 cross; may I also meekly submit ; sljouldst 
 thou answer me according to my wishes ; Oli 
 let it be in mercy, not in judgment; and let 
 this renewed instance of thy kindness and 
 condescension, draw my heart nearer to tiiee, 
 in faith and holiness, than it has ever been. 
 Lord, I leave my case, my sorrows and dif- 
 iicullies before thee ; pleading only the mer- 
 its of the precious Saviour ; to thee, O my 
 Jesus, are ail my sighings known; and my 
 groanings are not hid from thee. 
 
 Marcli 1st. Lord I come before thee again 
 ^vith my perplexities ; Oh let not my impor- 
 tunities offend my God ; but do thou be pleas- 
 ed this diiy for Christ my Redeemer's sake, 
 to hear and to help me, and to give a gra- 
 cious answer to those prayers which I shall 
 offer in thy house, and at thy table ; Lord, 
 give me a quiet mind and a resigned temper 
 in whatever thou ihalt be pleased to order. 
 May no doubtings or unbelief on my part of- 
 fend my God ; bnt may I now most remark- 
 ably iind thee the God who wilt perform for 
 me this tiling which I so much desire ; Lord, 
 be pleased to remember thy word unto thy 
 servant, upon which thou hast made me to 
 
DIARY. ~ 1 3> 
 
 iiOj)c. Let not the Lord be angry v/iih his 
 poor creature, wlio so earnestly pleads whh 
 Iiim now to manifest himself to her soul as 
 her God, by answering her present request 
 iind supplication. Lord I am thine, save thy 
 servant, and if it be compatible v/Uh thy di- 
 vine decrees, grant the desire of my heart 
 Nvhich thou knowest, and by this manifesta- 
 tion of thy providence, clear up my dark 
 dvies. and restore peace to my troubled soul. 
 
 11th. May a good and merciful (lod turn 
 
 iff my heart from folly and unbelief, and be 
 
 ;)leased in great mercy to quiet my spirit and 
 
 'o force me to confess that he is the wonder 
 
 .yorking God. Deliver me, O Lord, from 
 
 •onsuming care ; clear up my darkened skies, 
 
 be pleased, O my gracious and condescending 
 
 Father, to relieve my mind from its present 
 
 perplexity ; to fit me again for usefulness, 
 
 and to grant me, if it be thy blessed will, a 
 
 gracious and speedy answer to prayer. 
 
 27th. Since the 27th. of January my mind 
 >as been more exercised both from outward 
 pressure and inward conflict than 1 can ever 
 recollect it to have been since I gave myself 
 to be the Lord's; most particularly the 7th. 
 of February. The 1st. and 11th. of March 
 have been extraordinary days, both of agony 
 of spirit, and of prayer to God. On the litli 
 of April, from the extreme distress I was in, 
 I felt as if heart and Ucsh. without anv bodih 
 
DIAR\. 
 
 jntlisposition, were both going to fall; and 
 nothing but the support of the eveilastiiig 
 arm, and the pouring out my complaint with 
 groans and tears, and sighs into the bosom 
 of him, who was onee a man of sorrows, and 
 acquainted witli grief, kept me from sink- 
 ing. Oh ! who but the Maker of my frame, 
 and the former of my spirit, couhl ever know 
 what I underwent on this awful day. Had 
 I turned to any creature, none could have 
 imderstood my case, much less could they 
 have helped it ; but I turned unto the Lord, 
 my often tried; Oh that I had not to add my 
 often provoked friend ; and he said unto me, 
 deep as seemeth this mire, thou shalt not 
 sink in it, I will make a path for thy poor 
 wearied feet, that thou mayest get out ; 
 nevertheless, because of thy sins against 
 light and love and gracious manifestation, it 
 must be with sorrow, and with suffering, and 
 with toil. On the 15th. I had a very re- 
 markable answer to prayer, a partial lifting 
 lip, aad tokens for good vouchsafed me, that 
 I should be helped through, and that he who 
 made the sun to stand still for Josliua would 
 bring me quite through ; since then I have 
 been waiting for the full accomplishment of 
 that desire of my heart, which I believe the 
 liOrd will grant me, though the favour has 
 been defended ; yet, alas, alas, I have not 
 waited as one so suffering and so helped 
 
DIARY. 
 
 137 
 
 uuglit to liave Availed. I am defiled witli 
 sill ; I have left off to walk so sofdj belore 
 the Lord, as I had done be(bi*e (his aid was 
 granted me ; and now I am in a plunge again j 
 and my skies, whieii seemed to be clearing 
 away, are now obscured by clouds and dark- 
 ness. Wo is me, for fear 1 have sinned 
 away God's mercy, and am fearful about (he 
 manifestation of his power ; his all suffi- 
 ciency, his tender compassions which day 
 and night I have been looking up to him for; 
 yet Oil no ! let me not add to my other guilt 
 the guilt of unbelief; the Lord has caused 
 me to pi'ay ; he will answer the prayer of 
 my petition ; he hath caused me to hope, the 
 strength of Isiael will not fiiil me ; merit of 
 mine own coisld at no time be the plea for 
 gracious favour or providential mercies ; and 
 now what time I am afraid, and my heart 
 doubtelh and tremblelh within me, I will 
 lean on Jesus ; I will trust in him ; I will be- 
 lieve that for the sake of this dear Saviour, 
 my God will perform for me all this thing 
 Avhich I hope for from him ; and I will there- 
 fore cast all my care on him who careth for 
 me, both for my soul and my body. My soul 
 Avaited upon God ; upon the bountiful God ; 
 from him is all my expectation, and in him 
 is all my trust ; OIi Lord ! keep me watchful 
 and prayerful. 
 
 M2 
 
1 38 DIARY. 
 
 June 2d. I can no longer -say the skies are 
 dat'kening, for they are so darkened that 1 
 see no light ; and 1 am ready to call m;yself 
 desolate, forsaken, cast off by God ; yet, I 
 dare not nuirmur, I am not in hell, where I 
 deserve to be. Instead of poring on my dis- 
 appointments, vexations and suiferings, I 
 ^vould endeavour in this dark dismal night 
 of trial, to praise tlie Lord that there is a 
 liaven of rest preparjed for the weary ; and 
 to lament my sins, which malic such deep 
 sorrows necessary to my sanctiiication. Oh 
 my Saviour, put out thy helping hand, and 
 keep me from sinking in these deep Avaters ; 
 let the billows, instead of overwhelming me, 
 make me cleave closer to the cross ; and, Oh 
 my compassionate Father ! If it be not tiiy 
 will, to grant me tlie prayer, which I believ- 
 ed thou wouldst have done, having had my 
 Jieart so drawn out to pray ; yet at least keep 
 me from being overwhelmed by temptation, 
 and from being so entirely depressed, as to 
 be useless and worthless in that state of life 
 to which thou hast called me. If I may not 
 record that the Lord hatfi heard, and grant- 
 ed my request, at least enable me to know 
 and feel, that he hath given brokenness of 
 heart, and let me not dare, while under the 
 frowns of his providence, to sin against him, 
 lest a worse thing come upon me, and my 
 isoul be ruined. Lord, do thy whole will; 
 
DIARY. 
 
 139 
 
 (each me to do, enable me to suffer whatever 
 thou slialt see lit, and at last give me rest 
 from all trouble and all conflicts, in the 
 peacei'ul grave, and the bosom of my Sav- 
 iour. Lord, search my heart and try my 
 reins ; deliver me from every evil way, and 
 lead me to life everlasting. 
 
 Thou art God Almighty; I will act faith 
 upon thine omnipotence ; I believe, that in 
 spite of all the difficullics which appear to 
 uie, thou canst do that which 1 require of 
 thee ; I believe also, thou wilt, if it be right 
 and proper, and in every case, I desire to lie 
 down in the dust before thee. 
 
 June 5th. Lord, have mercy on me a pool* 
 tempest losscd wretch, groaning under the 
 burden of sin, and held in bondage by sorrow. 
 Oil, thou good physician, iieal my soul; 
 compose my spirit; pardon my sins; hear 
 my prayer; but, above all things, give me the 
 spirit of sanctification ; a desire to improve 
 by evei'y providence that besets me ; and a 
 mind at all times and in all things resigned 
 to thy will. With thee, O God, is all power 
 and wisdom ; 1 am all impotence and folly. 
 Be ph'ased, therefore, O my God, to order 
 all my affairs for me, and to be a very present 
 help to me in this time of need. Give me a 
 sound judgment, that good understanding 
 •which belongs to all them who fear the 
 name and do thv commandments. Be thou 
 
140 
 
 UlARV. 
 
 praised, O my God, for past favours ; and hi 
 them be sweet encouragements to me, still 
 to wait upon my God ; and to cast all my 
 cares upon liiui ; in the greatest agonies 
 of my spirit, great is the consolation I ex- 
 perience, in pouring out my heart before 
 him, and seeking counsel at his hands, who 
 giveth wisdom liberally, and upbraideth not^ 
 let this day be a day of prayer and holy 
 waiting on thee ; and let the approaching 
 communion Sabbath, be a blessed day to 
 me ; a day in which God will draw nigh to 
 me, as he does not unto the world ; in which 
 the death stroke may be given lo my most 
 easily besetting sin ; and I may know thee 
 io be in very truth, my reconciled Father in 
 ■Christ, and be able to add another, hitherto 
 to my past experiences. O thou that hearest 
 prayer, unto thee shall all ilesli come. O 
 thou, that hearest prayer, unto thee, most 
 particularly, should those come, who have 
 often found thee a prayer answering as well 
 as a prayer hearing God. Lord, let the remem- 
 brance of the especial times in which I have 
 found thee such, be as a cordial to support 
 my drooping spirits, and revive my dying 
 faith. I believe in the Father, the Son, and 
 the Holy Ghost. I desire to renew at this 
 time, my often broken covenant, and beseech 
 the Lord to njake me from this time forward, 
 to the conquering of my last enemy, and bid- 
 
DIARY. 
 
 141 
 
 (^ingtarewell to sin aiui sorrow, more closely 
 iijs than ever, and to enable me to walk holily, 
 humbly, soberly and uprightly, as becomes a 
 professor of the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 10th. LeW God be praised for all his mer- 
 cies. Let his holy name be gloriMed for the 
 blessings of the las^t Sabbath, when I was 
 enabled to call upon him with my whole 
 heart; and to find some consolation and sup- 
 port to my burtlened mind in the exercise of 
 faith and prayer. Oh, what in the present 
 perturbation, conllict and uneasiness of my 
 spirit, could support me, but those divine 
 consolations which from time to time, the 
 Lord is graciously pleased to bestow upon 
 me. How long, O Lord, how long hast thou 
 appointed, that I shall labour under this per- 
 plexity ; Lord, not my will, but thine be 
 done ; only be pleased to give me the spirit 
 of submission and humble waiting upon thee, 
 that so I faint not ; neither let go my confi- 
 dence in thee, the God of hope. Lord, hav- 
 ing again renewed my covenant with thee, 
 give me a heart to enjoy the privileges of 
 the covenant ; and w ith lioly boldness to draw 
 near the throne of (irace, and looking up to 
 Jesus, the great mediator of (he covenant, 
 by prayer and supplication, to make known 
 unto thee all my requests. liOrd, I spread 
 before ihee all my wants ; unto thee I pour 
 out all my complaints ; be graciously pleased 
 
1 42 DIARY* 
 
 to attend to the sorrowful sighing of thy 
 poor creature ; and according to the riches of 
 thy goodness in Christ Jesus, to perform for 
 me, those things which I have so long and so 
 earnestly desired of thee ; and /or which I 
 am still calling upon thee hy day and by 
 night ; above all things, O Lord ! give me 
 grace to walk holily , to avoid temptation ; 
 to keep in the path of duty, and of watch- 
 fulness. Hold thou me up, Lord ! and so shall 
 I be safe. 
 
 June 10th. Holy resolutions which I de- 
 sire to enter into this day. 
 
 To watch more against my easily besetting 
 sin ; and frequently in the day, to ask myself 
 what I am about in this respect. 
 
 To be more diligent in reading the w^ord of 
 God with meditation. 
 
 To have my thoughts under better govern- 
 ment ; saying frequently to them, *• whence 
 eomest thou, and whither goest thou." 
 
 To watch against indolence ; remembering 
 that the Christian life is a warfare ; and tliat 
 the kingdom of Heaven must be taken with a 
 Jioly violence, and cannot be obtained by the 
 ilothful. 
 
 To watch against extravagance and self 
 indulgence, and to endeavour to walk more 
 usefully than I have hithei'to done. 
 
 To remember the vow which I have lately 
 made unto the Lord ^ and to be looking up to 
 
DIARY, 
 
 ua 
 
 him witli a holy desire for the time when I 
 shaJl be permitted with songs of thanksgiv- 
 ing, to pay unto tlie Lord this vow; and to 
 record his mercy. 
 
 nth. Oh, wrelch that I am, wlio shall de- 
 liver me from tJie body of this death ; imme- 
 diately after holy vows and godly resolutions, 
 I have committed grievous sins, so that I am 
 in horror, and dread, and fear lest I should 
 sin away all God's mercy; alas. Lord ! I am 
 so vile and wretched, that I am now afraid 
 almost even to pray ; yet nothing else can do 
 for me ; Lord ! 1 am so vile, that I am a ter- 
 ror to myself. Oh, my God! for the sake 
 of Christ, have pity on me a miserable sin- 
 ner. Oh, wash me in his precious blood; 
 cleanse me from my renewed and aggravated 
 guilt ; and be pleased to give me thy Holy- 
 Spirit to enable me to be more watchful for 
 the future. Lord ! I tremble under a sense 
 of guilt ; and am so frightened at my owa 
 folly, that I am afraid of thy judgments, and 
 seem ready to give up all for lost. Lord ! 
 have mercy upon me, a most miserable sin- 
 ner; and pardon me, I earnestly beseech 
 tliee; purify my sin defiled and spotted soul; 
 save me from despair; enter not into judg- 
 ment with mc, for 1 can hardly abide the con- 
 demnation of my own conscience ; Oh, how 
 much less the severity of thy justice, buffer 
 ine not, O Lord ! to go on in any course of 
 
144 
 
 DIARV. 
 
 sin; and let this renewed expeiience of iirv 
 ivrelchedness and weakness, make nic seek 
 more earnestlv for that grace by w hi«h alone 
 I can be kept from falling into the greatest 
 sins here, and into the depths of Hell here- 
 after. 
 
 21st. Dr. Keith's text, Prov. viii. 32. 
 ^< Now, iherefore, hearken unto me, () ye 
 children ; for blessed are they that keep my 
 •ways." To hearken to Christ, includes at- 
 tending to his providences; attending to his 
 precepts; worshipping him with the heart ; 
 by an open profession ; by a suitable con- 
 versation ; the blessedness of kee|)!ng his 
 ways ; peace and joy in believing God's com- 
 fortable presence with them through life and 
 at death, with a joyful eternity; serious jid- 
 di'ess to sinners, and to professors. Dr. Hol- 
 linshead'stext. Luke viii. and 18. Take heed, 
 therefore, how ye hear. This duty includes 
 a constant attendance on the means of hear- 
 ing ; with preparation of the mind before 
 hearing. We should hear with meditation, 
 with prayer, with profession, and with an 
 endeavour to bring fortii fruits answerable to 
 our advantages^; argutuents for this careful 
 attention; when faithfully tulministered it is 
 the word of God, and we must give an ac- 
 count to God for our improvement or mis- 
 Improvement of gospel opportunities ; ad- 
 
Di'ARY. y^P 
 
 dress to the young on tlie advantages of early 
 religion. 
 
 22nd. Monday. My mind is at present 
 and lias for some days been in a state of aw- 
 ful conflict. I am waiting upon Gotl for a 
 mercy which I have sought so long and so 
 earnestly, that 1 cannot hut think God has 
 drawn me to pray for it. By the morning 
 dawn, in the watches of the night, at noon- 
 day, and at evening tide, I am still at the 
 throne of grace ; besides, many a thought 
 sent thither in the course of every hour, 
 while at the necessary avocations of my situ- 
 ation. Now the promises of God ; his mer- 
 ciful manifestations ; his tokens for good 
 make me hope ami rejoice ,* again, my sins 
 plunge me into despair, and I am weary, 
 faint and comfortless ; in the present moment 
 my heart fainteth within me, and my spirit 
 is exceedingly troubled. Succour me. O 
 Lord ! succour me, for I greatly need thine 
 aid. Behold a humble broken hearted sup- 
 plicant acknowledging herself unworthy of 
 the very crumbs of thy mercy; yet trusting 
 in thee for extraordinary displays of mercy. 
 Send thy reviving grace, for I am perplexed. 
 Oh, my God ! keep me from sinful murniMr- 
 ings and distrust ; nrake me patient in tribu- 
 lation ; and carry on within me the work of 
 sanctilication. Lord ! he pleased to grant 
 ine'the desire of mv heart, whi«h I mean to 
 
146 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 ask with a l>o1j» not a sinful i inpatient ini- 
 portiinity ; and mj soul shall praise thee with 
 jovful lips. 
 
 2()tii. Prepare il^e, O liord ! for all events 
 that may be before nie, whether comforta- 
 ble or adverse. 1 am io great darkness; be 
 pleased to enliglsten me, 1 lack wisdom ; 
 Oh, thou who upbraidest not, be pleased to 
 give liberally, and according to my great ne- 
 cessity. Be tlicu my counsellor by day, and 
 my instructor by night; give me that blessed 
 knowledge which comes from thy teacJiing; 
 let me sit at the feet of Jesus, and learn his 
 will ; learn to know it, learn to do, and learn 
 to bear it. Wonderful have l>een thy deal- 
 ings with me for some time past. Thou Ijast 
 answered prayer ; but Oh, in how different a 
 manner from what I expected ; nevei'theiess, 
 there has been such astonishing admixtures 
 of mercy with judgment, that I can only love, 
 admii-e and praise. While thou hast punish- 
 ed mine iniquities, and by thy very methods 
 of granting my request, brought my sm to 
 remembrance, and made my ilesh tremble 
 for fear of jndji;tnents; thou hast given me 
 faith ; held up my goings, and made my soul 
 rejoice in thy salvation ; and now Lord ! w hat 
 shall I say ; I desire to notice thy provi- 
 dences ; tabless thee for thy mercy of yester- 
 day, when so great a burden was taken from 
 my mind ; and I will hope that thy goodness 
 
BIARY. 
 
 '-147 
 
 Nviil !<i)cc(lily ])iit iisi etui to Use reiiiiiining 
 troubles under \v1iich 1 laboms and i\o ail 
 tiiat foi' iiic, wliii'h m\ soul could er.pect 
 IVoin such extraordinary be^inuings of fa- 
 vour, and ^vliicli il never could have prayed 
 foi: so earnestly, if Ihou Iiadst not enabled me. 
 Answer me, O my God ! in mercy and not in 
 jud^;ment; ami let me not lose thy blessings, 
 eidier from not asking, or from asking a- 
 miss. Oh thou great searcher of hearts, 
 known unto thee are all my thoughts ; send 
 out thy light and thy truth ; and let them 
 teach me; and make all my tho*jghts all 
 luy desires, and all my prayers, such as thou 
 wilt graciously approve ; accept and answer 
 for the sake of Christ Jesus, that great me- 
 diator between God and man, in and tlirough 
 Avhom alone, 1 have any confidence in draw- 
 ing nigh to thee. |j^ 
 
 29th. Oh, careless, wretched, sinful crea- 
 ture ; Ijord, let not iniquity prevail ; save me 
 or I perish. 
 
 July o(\. Desiring to redeem time for sacra- 
 mental preparation. Much exercised about 
 sins committed since the last month ; and 
 jiiy heart very low ; when, on serious exami- 
 nation, I find that I have fallen again and 
 ngain into sins repented of, suffered for and 
 solemnly covenanted against ; so that I am 
 ready to say, I shall one day fall by the hands 
 of this mine cjit my ; nevertheless, I think 
 
HS MARY. 
 
 and hope that sin becomes everj day a great- 
 er bui'den lo me ; that I am never at rest in 
 the commission of it, and that I am more 
 than nsually afraid of its indwelling' power, 
 and cannot pass even a few hours without 
 looking to Jesus, and longing for pardon and 
 sanctiiication ; yet alas, alas ; this is not 
 where I ought to be. I have been many 
 years a professor ; God has been wonderful- 
 ly gracious both in spiritual and temporal 
 affairs ; and instead of having just life enough 
 to be grieved at sin, and desirous of holiness,. 
 I ought to have made great advances in sanc- 
 tiiication, and to have been eminently pious, 
 instead of being saved as it were by fire. I 
 ought to be able to say, " I have fought the 
 good fight." Lord ! be thou pleased to par- 
 don all my deficiencies ; to fill me with grace, 
 and to enable me very much to improve at 
 this time. Oh, meet me this day in thy 
 courts ; may I be filled with the spirit of 
 prayer, and have my heart very much disen- 
 gaged from this world, I desire at this time 
 particularly to notice God-s providential deal- 
 ings with me ; more especially some remarka- 
 ble incidents which have happened to me 
 within three years; to glorify God for his 
 judgments, and to rejoice in the manifesta- 
 tions of his mercy. I have lately received 
 some especial favours, which I desire grate- 
 fully to itemember, and to show forth my 
 
DlAllY. '^^^ 
 
 tjianlvsgiviugs with my lips aiul by my life; 
 uitli rcspccL to some otliei* concerns, God is 
 leading me by a ^vay Ibat I know not ; but I 
 am pcisuadcd it will be tbc rigbt way ; yea, 
 I cannot but tbink tliat luiving done so much 
 for me, so unexpectedly so compassionately, 
 he will fulfill ere long all my desire, and 
 make me to know ibat be is a wonder work- 
 ing God. Ob, that this may be a ilay of great 
 devotion witb me^ may God bless the minis- 
 ter who is to preach, and provide for every 
 seeking soul, that which sball be most suita- 
 ble for it. 
 
 Jiilij 5tb. Dr. Keith's text. Isaiah xlv. 
 24. ** Surely sball one say, in the Lord 
 have I righteousness and strength." Reviv- 
 ing words to souls ready to sink in desjion- 
 dency under a remembrance of past sins, and 
 consciousness of present weakness. Christ 
 is this Lord, in whom we have this righteous- 
 ness, and this strength. Our righteousness 
 as f>eai'ing what we bail deserved, standing 
 between offended God and offending man, 
 lie saves us not only from the guilt, but the 
 power of sin ; he gives us strength for all our 
 %vork, and all our warfare ; the christian life 
 is a constant w arnng ; a life of diligence, ac- 
 tivity, self-denial, I'esistance of temptations^ 
 corruptions, evil inclinations, which we could 
 never accom])lisb in our own strength ; a4- 
 
 -N 2 
 
i5U 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 dress to the unconverted, to seeking souls, 
 professed discipJes. 
 
 12ih. Dr. Keith's text. Psalm Ixv. 12. 
 *«Thy vows are upon me, O God! I will 
 render praises unto thee." Yows of dedica- 
 tion of property or persons allowahle under 
 the Gospel as well as under the law, having 
 never heen forbidden ; but this was not the 
 point of view in which he meant to treat the 
 subject ; but of that religious acknowledg- 
 ment of God to be our Lord, and dedication 
 of ourselves to be his people, wJiich was the 
 duty of every one. Particular seasons suit- 
 able for the making and renewing sucli vows ; 
 limes of dedicating ourselves or our children 
 by baptism ; and of coming (o the table of 
 the Lord ; times of special affliction ; exam- 
 ple of Jacob when he left his father's house 
 to go into a strange land ; times of especial 
 mercy and deliverance ; example of David, 
 when he penned the 116th. Psalm ; exhorta- 
 tion to those wlio have already taken the 
 TOWS of the Lord upon them in the ordi- 
 nance of the Lord's Supper ; to those who 
 keep back from a dread of giving up the 
 world and being bound to walk more strictly ; 
 to those who keep back from a fear of not 
 performing their vows, and of falling off. 
 The first are in an awful state, the latter 
 have every thing to encourage ; exhortation 
 to all p for all have in some degree the vows 
 
DIAHY. 
 
 ol* the Loi'il upon them. Who, but at some 
 period of their lives, in some time of awful 
 affliction, some threatened stroke upon their 
 property, their reputation, their dearest re- 
 lations, have called upon God. and promised 
 to devote themselves to him, if he would but 
 help them. Who but in some threatening 
 danger by sea or by land ; some severe lit of 
 illness ; some sore pressure of mind or body, 
 have, at some period of their lives, in some 
 vay or other, takea the vows of the Lord 
 upon them ; nay, every day's mercy calls 
 every day for gratitude ; and, above all, the 
 gift of God's Son, and the offers of salvation, 
 particularly bind us to it, A very excellent 
 sermon, and most particularly suited to the 
 state of my mind. 1 desired and attempted 
 in the evening to take a survey of God's 
 mercies to me, both spiritual and temporal. 
 i)f my many broken vows ; to beseech of 
 Clu'ist to undertake for me, from a sense of 
 mine own inability to keep holy resolutions; 
 with holy shame and indignation did I com- 
 plain to my God of the prevalence of my 
 easily besetting sin, in spite of all the vows 
 I had made against it ; most earnestly did I 
 pray to God to take me then ; to remove me 
 that very night, rather than I should live to 
 be the bond slave of corruption, or that this 
 iniquity should be my ruin. 
 
152 DIARY. 
 
 I desired to renew a vow, wJiieli I made 
 some time ago to the Lord ,• nasiseiy, IT the 
 Lord would grant me a certain favour, Avhicii 
 I have for some time desii'ed of him, (1 hope 
 according to his will, hecause I have been 
 most wonderfully drawn to jyray on the sub- 
 ject ; and when my heart was bursting with 
 grief, I have felt such inward consolations, 
 and received such tokens for good as could 
 only come from God,) which favour I also 
 desire of him, as far as 1 can know myself, 
 ^vitli sincere resignation and ^vishes to sub- 
 mit to his will, if he should be pleased to dis- 
 appoint me ; the vow 1 have made, and made 
 in the anguish of my soul, is this ; if the 
 Lord shall be graciously pleased to perfoi*m 
 this thing for me, I will keep two days of 
 thanksgiving in every year, so long as I shall 
 live ; on each day giving to the poor, and en- 
 deavouring to find out some proper object, 
 thirty dollars. Lord ! all my goods are notli- 
 ing worth; and all my life ought to he thine, 
 whether thou granlest or whether thou with- 
 holdest; but I desire to do this, if thou shalt 
 give me the opportunity, as an expression of 
 gratitude ; a bind upon my own heart to re- 
 member the Lord's mercy ; and a means of 
 drawing my heart nearer to thee. In addi- 
 tion to this, I desire to keep two days of hu- 
 miliation in every year on set days ; to sit 
 mournfully before the Lord of Hosts, and to 
 
DIARY. i ^f 
 
 humble myself for those sins, which have 
 been as a separating cloud between God and 
 my soul, and may have been the means of 
 keeping me so long in a state of darkness, 
 perplexity, and anxiety, known only to my 
 poor sorrowful heart, and to the Maker of 
 my frame. Lord ! have mercy on me, a most 
 miserable sinner ; and make every path of 
 duty plain and straight before my feet. What 
 time I am afraid, I will call upon God ; even 
 upon God, that performeth all things for his 
 people ; O may I be one of them. 
 
 19th. Dr. Keith's text. Psalm, Ixxvii. 7, 
 8, 9. " Will the Lord cast off for ever ? and 
 will he be favourable no more ? Is his mercy 
 clean gone for ever ; doth his promise fail for 
 evermore ? Hath God forgotten to be gra- 
 cious ; hath he in anger shut up his tender 
 mercies." • 
 
 Introduction. The frame of David's mind^ 
 when he penned this Psalm ; the anxious in- 
 quiries of the people of God, whenever his 
 dispensations to them or dealings with them 
 do not correspond with their desires ; these 
 despairing, gloomy thoughts arise from the 
 judgment of sense, the weakness of faith ; or 
 from taking only a superficial vicAv of the 
 Lord's doings; judging of things according 
 to their present appearance, without advert- 
 ing to what may be their final issue. We are 
 permitted to be in this frame, to discover to 
 
lis the corruption and weakness of oin* own 
 liearts ; for (he trying and exciiinj^ our 
 graces ; and for lite glory of God. When in 
 this siiualion, either from the pressure of 
 outward trial, or the an^^uisli of spiritual dis- 
 tress, we sliould be encouraged to I rust in 
 God, and to persevere it prayer, following 
 the example of the woman of Canaan ; in- 
 stead of saying, why will God so long refuse 
 the desire of my lieart ; we should say« why 
 should I not continue to wait upon God, who 
 \vill assurediy grant me the spiritual blessings 
 I ask ; and even not refuse me the temporal 
 mercies I wish for, if they be for my good. 
 Great encouragement to parents to pray for 
 the salvation of their children, or of any neau 
 and dear friend, who is much on their hearts. 
 Persevering prayer can do wonders. The 
 longer we have waited for any especial mer- 
 cy, the more delightful will it be to find God 
 performing all things for us. When God 
 liath heard the prayer of our petition, and 
 granted it in some measure, we should cheer- 
 fully acknowledge it, and have a new song in 
 our months, even the praises of our God, 
 saying, " Who is like unto thee, O Lord ! 
 among the Gods ; who is like unto thee, 
 glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing 
 wonders/' 
 
 This sermon was wonderfully suited to the 
 <Btate of my mind, and the situation of my af- 
 
DIARY. 
 
 15, 
 
 Till IS. I liuvc hceii more than usually enlarg- 
 ed in prater lor oar niijiislei s the ])ai5t week; 
 and I felt this morning as if God had indeed 
 sent me, hy our valuable Dr. Keith's mouth, 
 a word in due season; may God strengthen 
 his hands and establish his heart, and return 
 sevenfold into his bosom his labours of love 
 among us. iMay he find God to be to him, 
 as he described him to us this morning, by 
 way of encouragement to prayer, the Father 
 of mercies, and the God of all consolations; 
 his God in covenant, who overruleth all things 
 for the good of his people, and will make all 
 things work together for their best advan- 
 tage. O, that I could havi^ faith and patience 
 to wait the issue of every ti-ial, mid not to 
 judge of the Lord's dealings by the anguish 
 of the present moment, remembering the ex- 
 ample of Job ; for who, said Dr. Keith, could 
 have thought what designs of mercy tiie Lord 
 had for this man ; had they beheld him de- 
 prived of his property, bereaved of his chil- 
 dren, sniitten in his liesh. persecuted by his 
 enemies, censured by his friends, and even his 
 God writing bilter things against him; and 
 yet the latter end of this man was to be bet- 
 ter than his beginning. 
 
 Dr. Holiinshead's text. 2 Timothy, iv. 7. 
 *< I have fought a good fight ; I have finished 
 my course ; I have kept the faith." A re- 
 trospect of our past lives, a useful employ- 
 
156 DIARV. 
 
 ment, particularly proper and pleasing in the. 
 close of life, if we have the testimony of a 
 good conscience, that we have fought the 
 good fight ; to fight the good light, implies a 
 life of holiness, according to the rales of the 
 gospel ; not building on any wrong founda- 
 tion, or setting up decent morality in the 
 room of christian holiness ; it implies also a 
 progression in sanetification ; not to pro- 
 gress is to decline ; to fight the good figlit 
 includes also perseverance to the end ,* ad- 
 dress to those who have entered the lists ; 
 and to those who have not yet begun the 
 warfare. 
 
 31st. My soul is exceedingly sorrowful and 
 weary, because of sin. Oh, that I had wings, 
 liiic a dove, that I might flee away and be at 
 rest. I hoped that tlirough grace I had 
 walked more carefully, more warily of late, 
 and trusted tliat, at this season of solemni- 
 ties, I sliould be enabled to praise God, for 
 having made a better progress in religion ; 
 but, alas, within a few days I have fallen off; 
 ceased to resist with vigour the assaults of 
 my easily besetting sin; and my soul is full 
 of trouble and darkness ; yea, my Gotl, whom 
 J have ofiended, hideth his face from me, and 
 I am troubled. Oh Lord ! have mercy upon 
 use, arid either give me power against sin, or 
 full pardon, thiough Christ, for all my past 
 offences, and a speedy entrance into that 
 
DIARY". ^O.^ 
 
 world, where I shall never sin. Oh Lord ! 
 I am faint and wearj ; I loathe and aI>hor my- 
 self. Oh, coiT\nassio!iate my ease ; help nic 
 by thine Almigrity power, and let sin never so 
 reign in me as (hat I should quietly ohey it. 
 August 3d. Yesterday was a sacramental 
 sabbath. In the morning I felt my heart so 
 bowed down under a remembrance of past 
 sins, and more especially of sins recently com- 
 mitted, that I was ready to set myself down 
 as a vile hypocrite, fit only for damnation, 
 ripe for Hell, and so utterly ujiworthy of 
 eating with the children of God, that I 
 thought I must have staid at home in sor- 
 row, and tears, and despair; however, with 
 a trembling, fearing, aching heart, I went ; 
 Dr. Hollinshead*s sermon was a very excel- 
 lent and extensively encouraging one ; but, 
 alas, I fear I have more need of having my 
 heart broken, than of having it comforted^ 
 for truly, J am a great sinner ; when I con- 
 sidered my broken vows, r.iy faithless engage- 
 ments ; that I conti.iue on sinniiig against 
 mercy, against love; sinning at this partic- 
 ular time, when 1 am waiting on God for an^ 
 swcrs to prayer ; and wlien every power of 
 my soul ought to be engaged in his service ; 
 when 1 felt that my sins are not trilling. ones, 
 such as the weakness of human nature, or 
 the strengtli of temptation might palliate ; 
 but that 1 am a wretch, deserving of more 
 O 
 
^ 58 DIARY. 
 
 wralli, and temporal, and eternal chastise- 
 iiient, tlvdn any cieatiire ever was, who had 
 ever received one half the mercies from God 
 that I have ; 1 was afraid to \iiake any mora 
 resolutions ; afjaid to hope that ever I should 
 be better : and in the (h ead of myself, the 
 inability which 1 feel to walk perfectly before 
 my God, even for one week, the dread of be- 
 ing a prey to temptation, and the bond slave 
 of corruption as long as I shall live, I could 
 only wisji tiiat God would be graciously pl«as» 
 ed just to save my soul fi-om Hell ; among 
 the njany mansions which are in his house t» 
 appoint for me the very lowest, and to re*- 
 move me from tlsis state of conflict, and Avar^- 
 fare, where I am so often foiled. Oh, my 
 Saviour I be pleased to hide me in thy bo- 
 som ; I am more weak and more wicked tliaii 
 any thou didst ever undertake for; and W 
 thou leave me one luoment to myself, I am 
 lost for ever. Oh, dear Saviour! heal my 
 backslidings ; bring back my wandering feet, 
 and have pity on the poorest wretch that ever 
 came before thee ; above all things, keep me 
 from ever being consented in any state of 
 sin ; Oh, deliver me from being contentedly 
 guilJy. 
 
 ^PLugust2oi]. Last Thursday a prayer so- 
 ciety was held at Dr. Keith's. I hear there 
 lias been one for ahout a fortniglit on Sun- 
 day evenings, at Br. liollinshead's. I pray 
 
159 
 BIARY. 
 
 ■the irood of so.ils and (lie vev.v;*! «t vongio,. , 
 my own mind is not yet nr.ido np about at- 
 tendins; tl.em ; 5 look to G«d. v.l.o uv.ows uL 
 my thoughts and ail iny circumstances, loi 
 
 direction. , . ^ , ,^^,„ 
 
 September 7th, Three tilings I imve p.u» 
 ticularlv desired of the Lard at his tahle yes- 
 Icrday ; 1st. Thut my easily besetting sm 
 jnighl receive its death's ^voiuid ; that I may 
 never be under its dominion ; or that of any 
 other sin ; yea, rather tlian 1 shonld ever In c 
 in the vohmtary indulgence of any sin, that 
 it vvouUl please God to remove me froni time 
 to eternity, if I might but l^^ve the lo>^^st 
 seat in Heaven. >v]iere I may see his l\ice and 
 never sin. 2d. The thorough conversion ot 
 a very near and dear friend, Nvith such an in- 
 lerference of providence in some V^^^^f^ 
 concerns of tlieirs as may be to me, if it be 
 his blessed will, an evident ansvver to pia^r. 
 Sd. That mv dear husband may be preserved 
 from worldiv entanglements, and enabled so 
 to manage llis earthly affliirs, that they may 
 never interfere xvilh his heavenly business, 
 and more especially, that >ve may yalner be 
 sa sfied ^vith a smaller portion of llus world s 
 ^oods, than to run the risk of ^Hig grea^^ 
 
 involved. In pouring out my heart beioie 
 <iod, these things were particularly on my 
 «iiimi ', and I hope presented through my gi^- 
 
A 6.0 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 ^ ec ol fervo,,!., ofliope, :.nd of trust in God • 
 but son.e,h.ng also is neeessa^ on my pavt 
 
 occa ii:"?:-"'^ '" ^'■' '""'^^'"' *» -»wtre 
 
 ove. vlll? T i"' '"'"■'' «sP««iaIly of ti.e sin 
 ove wliicli I liave so much mourned nn.l 
 against which I did at that time s'eal'esuj 
 piaj May I call myself to a daily aceounV 
 
 Tv^tlin '.",T.S»- '« "- ^Tu - 
 
 oirni^i it ""*' ' Z'^'*' exercised con- 
 
 ceinng it, and never leave watehin- and 
 Pi-aymg, till God has granted me omi, y e 
 
 tlict For the second petition I will striv^ 
 
 ana uprightly, that so those who love me miv 
 
 iny wish i, t^ ^^""" "'^- ^*«- "'" *'"'•''> 
 Sfcrett . *" "'"'?p «y fa>nily affairs with 
 tUiCietion ; to avoid extravagance: to make 
 no unneeessary demands on my dear and af 
 fectwnate husband, that the desire of laiidy 
 suppl.^.ng my wants or wishes, may not he ^ 
 snare to him, to make him engaged lar-e 
 schemes for riches, and to thisl ftel?,artl 
 ..larly houn.1 by n.y lather's having been ner" 
 nitted to give us so sn.ail a portion of hi" for" 
 tunc, compa, ed to what he had declared to b^ 
 .s m cnt.on, and on the sti-ength of whiVh I 
 i.ved less frugally in the first ^cars after mv 
 '"a.-r.age than I should have done : but 'vh^^ 
 
BIAR^. ^^^ 
 
 f) Lord ! is sufficient for tliesc things ; not 
 1; a poor, weak, wretched creature, whose 
 \laily experience is an experience of prone- 
 ness to folly and backsliding. At thy feet, 
 therefore, Oh my cruciiied Saviour! do I 
 fall. Wash me in thy precious blood. Gra- 
 ciously grant me the pardon of my past sins? 
 and send into my heart the Holy Ghost, tlic 
 sanctifier, that those tilings for which I have 
 no power, may, through help oh(ained tiom 
 Heaven, be performed in me and by me. 
 
 Sunday, Janimry 3d. 1796. Let me not 
 receive especial favour of the Lord and faiU 
 as I have too often done, to record it. My 
 God gave me on this day such manifestations 
 of his grace, his power, his all sufficiency, as 
 ou«hi never to be forgotten. Exercised with 
 inward conllicts and with sorrow of heart, 
 under which I have gi-oaned for near eleven 
 months past, and which from some peculiar 
 circumstance have exceeded in kind and con- 
 Jtinuancc, all the other sorrows of my liCe^ 
 -without any alleviation in outward appear- 
 ance, T drew near to that God, who has sup- 
 ported me from sinking altogether, and from 
 time to time has granted me such refresh- 
 ments of grace as have kept me from utterly 
 fainting under the pressure of this affiiction 
 so grievous, so complicated, so inexplicable to 
 any but him unto whom 1 have daily poured 
 forth my complaint: yea, and sought him 
 
 l>2 
 
162 
 
 niARY. 
 
 also, ,„ (he nigl.t season. Some addition^ 
 causes of sonovv |,a,! happened to me w thin 
 the ast week, whieh had been also causes of 
 
 and ,?„i 1-5'' """' '""«'' admixture of sin 
 
 in^ or clf^r P P?'"*- ' '""J »"=«» seek- 
 ing 01 Ood, the directions of his providence 
 
 and the teachings of his good spiri\ wJth deep 
 
 umihation and with caniest desire through 
 
 which Ih V? ?"" ""T '"'" *''"^ rcjuests 
 I. HO him; yet with my whole soul desirina- 
 also suhmission to his will i„ whatever waf 
 It should declare itself. On the Sahl^th 
 inorning. my .„a| panted after Gcd ,• and af 
 
 ^e "id t,',"^' I" '"'? ^""' 'ne-'^P'cs'sible de. 
 Mie, . nd thus I went to the sanctuarv, and 
 
 lue . the bieakmg of bread, and in such 
 niamlestations of his presence L I re oicein 
 huving expeiienecd,- but I cannot describe 
 Ihcm in any suitable manner; nevertheless I 
 will record them to the glory of God' Se 
 
 Having ponredS m ; so^u mfa^'^ni 
 besought him that he iould e" her gt; me 
 
 i^lv ?o'l "^ '7 ''"="■*' "'• ^'"'^ '"/^i" en! 
 v„. ^ . '^''"' S'-anting that I might in 
 ^ei-vdoed and in very truth be the Lord's" 
 
DliVRY. 
 
 16: 
 
 ^vhatevei* should be denied mc. I felt such 
 an annihilation of self, such a swallowing up 
 01 my Avill in the will of God, that my soul 
 lay, as it were, prostrate at the fo6t of the 
 cross. It lay meekly and sweetly at the feet 
 of Jesus, saying", Lord ! not my will but thine 
 be done. Lord, let thy >Yill be done in me, 
 and by me, and upon me. This I know I 
 have off en said, and said sincerely ; but then 
 I have said it painfully and with conflict ; but 
 now. I said it with inexpressible sweetness of 
 acquiescence, cheerfully giving up all to God, 
 though in that all was comprehended, that for 
 M'hich I had Ijeen ])raying fo!' many months, 
 and believed myself praying according to the 
 divine mind, on account of the very great 
 di^wings out of my heart to pray in the way 
 I did, and which I could only account for as 
 co:,)ing from God, ISow thought I, ^vhat is 
 the Lord about to do ; he is eitlier preparing 
 iTi« for an answer to prayer, or by some rough, 
 though right way, to draw mc nearer to him- 
 self. As yet in every /cspect I walk in dark- 
 ness, not knowing what tL will of the Lord 
 is . executing this, that I am assured of his 
 loving kindness from the communion which 
 I have had with him and with his Son Jesus. 
 I felt in this way all the Sunday, and all Mon- 
 day ; on Monday evening, through Monday 
 liight, and on Tuesday morning, I felt the 
 ^ame resignation, yet with some degree of 
 
164 
 
 BIA^T. 
 
 trembling, fj'om sometlihig wliicli had hap- 
 pened, expecting very soon to be called to the 
 trial, uhich 1 had so long dreaded ; but on 
 Tuesday the ^vill of God was in some degree 
 manifested to me, and I received such assur- 
 ance about the affair which has so long per- 
 plexed and bowed me down, that I could hard- 
 ly believe what I heard ; and now God, who 
 has done so much for me, will not leave his 
 work uniinished. 'No, I believe that the Al- 
 mighty God, who has so far answered pi'ayer, 
 Avill perform for me the wljole desire of my 
 heart. Oh may I not forfeit the continuance 
 of his mercies, by forgetting this season of 
 his loving kindr^ess ; but may I feel my heart 
 more strongHy di'awn than ever to the Lord ; 
 may I remember ilia vows I have made to 
 him in the days of my sorrow ; lament my 
 mercy deferring sins, and walk in holiness 
 before him all the days of my life. 
 
 June 19th. 1796. Dr. Keith's text, Psalni 
 xlvi. 8. "Come, behold the works of the 
 Lord. What desolations he hath made iu 
 the earth.-' 
 
 Dr. Ilollinshead's text, Luke xiii. 2. and 
 3. *' Suppose ye, that these Galileans were 
 sinners above all the Galileans, because thev 
 suffered such things ? I tell you, nay ; but, ex- 
 cept ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.'* 
 
 Both these sermons were on occasion of 
 the melancholy events of the last week ; a 
 
liiAllV- i65. 
 
 great fire, and botli most escellciitly calcu- 
 lated to do good. Dr. lloljinshead was in a 
 Biost particular manner serious, pathetic, and 
 animated. May God bless the pious laboui's 
 of our good ministers, and their constant at- 
 tention to seize every opportunity, when the 
 hearts of their hearers are m©st likely to be 
 impressible, to do tfe^ work of the Lord, and 
 preach his word with fidelity and zeal. 
 
 .lugiist 23d. Eleanor ami myself taken 
 with llie fever. I had it moderately, but our 
 dear Eleanor was like to die ; she was brought 
 low, indeed, and cur hearts were filled with 
 anguish on her account ; but it pleased God 
 to give efficacy to the means used for her re- 
 covery,- a fourth bleeding, more copious than 
 three precedhig ones, seemed to relieve some 
 of the most distressing and alarming symp- 
 toms she laboured under. I did not hide her 
 danger fjom her, and have since repeatedly 
 urged to her the propriety of ilevoting to God 
 the life which he redeemed from tlie grave. 
 Gracious God, enable me not only to teach 
 her, but also to walk unblameably before her, 
 that my pi-ccepts and example may be in uni- 
 son; and may she and all our dear children 
 be the Lord's in deed and in truth. 
 
 September 13th. At five in tlic morning, 
 Mrs. Keith died : she was a very good wo- 
 man ; lived a religious life; and. as far us 
 tlie violence of her disorder would permit, 
 
166 DIAUY. 
 
 appeared (o l>ear hc^r tesHmony to what she 
 had experienced of (he trutlis and comforts 
 ofiTligion |o the last. 
 
 ISth. In the moriiiiig Dr. Keith preached 
 to a large coDj^-regation a very excellent and 
 jiioving sermon, (Vom John xiv. 27. •* Peace 
 I leave with yoii, my peace I give unto you. 
 Kot as the Avorhl giveth, give I unto you. 
 Let not your heart he trouhled, neither let it 
 be afraid." 
 
 January 29th. 1797. I no longer note the 
 texts, because my ehk'st daughter does, which 
 I think a gm>d means of iixing the Scriptures 
 in her memory. 
 
 JK'oveinhev 29th. 1797, Since the death of 
 my dear little Jane, which happened the last 
 day of July, after two months of anxiety and 
 suspense, I have been in great weakness of 
 body, and sadness of mind. During the last 
 three weeks of her sickness, I was deeply ex- 
 ercised in soul. Some very especial sins and 
 failures in duty, were set home on my con- 
 science, and in her sickness I felt the rod due 
 to my departures from God, and the uneven- 
 iiess of ujy walk. I endeavoured to seek the 
 Lord, by deep contrition, confession of sin, 
 repentance, faiili, and prayer. I sought the 
 Lord by day, and spent almost every hour of 
 the niglit, that I coisld s^iare from nursing, 
 prostrate before him. taking liardly any bod- 
 jiv rest. I tjiouiiht if the lite of the child 
 
MARY. 1 Gty 
 
 should be granted me, it Mould be an evi- 
 dence, that tlie Lord, for Christ's sake, Iiad 
 forgiven nie those things, whicli with so manv 
 tears, and with such hrokcnness of spirit, I 
 had bewailed before him ,* and there were ap- 
 pearances of her recovery ; but, alas, Iiow 
 vain were my hopes. My child was taken, 
 and I was plunged into the double sorrow of 
 losing a most cherished and beloved infant, 
 and of feeling the stroke, as a hiding of the 
 Lord's face, and a refusal to be entreated by so 
 great a sinner. Lord ! I desire to be humbled, 
 and to acknowledge thy rightful sovereignty 
 over me and mine; to lay my hand upon my 
 mouth and my mouth in the dust before thee, 
 and to say. Righteous art thou, O Lord! in 
 all thy ways, and just in all thy judgments. 
 Any thing that is not Hell, is too good for 
 jne ; and, therefore, I desire not only to sub- 
 mit, but to admire the grace that leaves me 
 imtouched in any part. Fsojn t],i^ death of 
 this baby, to the present Isour, i»i hodv has 
 been in a state of great weakness; and \vi(h 
 regard to the soul, I hiive walked in dark- 
 ness. My will is hroitght into humltlc sub- 
 mission to the diviMe will, hut I have had 
 none of those sensible manifestations of the 
 divine pi'csenee and consolations of the spir- 
 it, jvhicli, at some seasons of alliiction, bave 
 enabled me, not only io bow before the Lord, 
 but even to rejoice in tribulation. Other 
 
^^^ CIAR^",. 
 
 trials, of a temporal nature, I have also un- 
 dergone at this time, and even now many 
 things seem to be going against me ; yet 
 I would endeavour to hope in the Lord, and 
 to stay myseif upon the rock of Israel. 
 Make me, O Lord ! a true saint, that I may 
 fly with confidence to the refuge of thy saints. 
 Hold thou up my goings, that my feet may 
 not slip, and hide me under the shadow of thy 
 wings till these calamities be overpast. I de- 
 sire, O Lord ! to devote myself to thee, to be- 
 seech thee to be my covenant God and Father 
 in Christ. Enable me, 1> my God ! to wallc 
 as under the bonds of the covenant, and in all 
 times of trouble and sorrow to take hold of* 
 covenant consolations, and to remember that 
 all shall work for good to those who trust in 
 thee. Help use to look back to past experi- 
 ences ; to call to mind thj former answers^ to 
 prayer ; and to trust that thou, wlio hast help- 
 ed me hiUierlo, wilt not now forsake me. 
 Support ni duder the late denials of answer 
 to prayei*. Show me any unrepented sin ; 
 discover to me any indulged or hidden iniqui- 
 ty, ^yhieh ma^v have provoked thee to hide 
 thy face from me; and give me that true re- 
 pentance, which consisteth, not only in con- 
 fessing, but in foisaking sin. Lord! thou 
 knowest my present wants and necessities ; 
 the burdens of my spirit, and every inward 
 grief. I de^iire to he cnreful for nothins;, but 
 
DIARY. 169" 
 
 in every thing by prayer and supplication to 
 make known rny requests unto thee. Grant 
 or refuse what I imagine I want, as thou, 
 O Lord, shalt see lit ; only grant that, 
 at all times and in all seasons, I may walk as 
 becometh a true christian. O thou merciful 
 High Priest, who art touched with a tender 
 compassion for our infirmities; thou who 
 makest intercession without ceasing for thy 
 redeemed ones, look upon me in this time of 
 trouble. Thou knowest my groanings, and 
 my sighs and tear& are not liid from thee. 
 Hear me, from Heaven, thy dwelling place, 
 and when thou hearest, have mercy. ^ Suffer, 
 O Lord ! no tiial to I efal me, from which 
 thou wilt not make me a way to escape, and 
 make me know by renewed experience, if it 
 be thy blessed will, that nothing is too hard 
 for the Lord ; that his ear is not heavy that 
 it cannot hear; noi* his hand shortened that 
 it cannot save. Make me to dread every sin. 
 which might be as a separating wall between 
 my God and my soul. Oh, my God ! if it be 
 thy will, remove the pressure under which I 
 labour, or give me that thorough resignation 
 of mind, which it becometh the creature to 
 exercise toward its Creator. 
 
 Oh Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I give 
 myself up to thee, to be, and to do, anil to 
 bear whatever thou shalt see fit for me dur- 
 ing ray journey through life. Renouncing all 
 
ITQ DIARY. 
 
 self government, I desire to liiive my will 
 swallowed up in the divine will, and to submit 
 myself to the rightful authority and tlie mer- 
 ciful disposal of the majesty of Heaven, su- 
 premely desiring nothing but salvation for me 
 and mine? and persuaded that God will order 
 all things better for me < !mn I could for my- 
 self. Yet since, O Lord ! thou dost not only 
 permit but encourage us to come nigh to thy 
 til rone of grace, and to spread our wants be- 
 foi'e thee, permit a poor worm to claim this 
 privilege, and to relieve her sorrows by pour- 
 ing them out before thee, and beseechisig 
 the interference of thy mercy in her present 
 concerns. Doth God care for sparrows, and 
 will he not care for his people ? Thou dost 
 care, C) Lord ! and my faith and hope are in 
 thee, that now, even now, O my God ! thou 
 Avilt show that, though for some months past 
 thou hast appeared to hide thy face from me, 
 to reject me, and cover thyself as with a thick 
 cloud, on account of my transgressions, thou 
 wilt no longer break thy bruised reed, but 
 that for me, even me, most unworthy, there 
 shall be a gracious revival, a merciful and 
 providential lifting up. 
 
 Shall not the ,Tudge of the whole earth do 
 right. O yes, he will. Shall not he, who 
 freely gave his own Son for us, deal kindly by 
 liis redeemed ones. Oh yes, he will. Be not, 
 therefore, cast down, Oh my soul, neither be 
 
DIARY. 
 
 m 
 
 thou disquieted >vithin me, for I shall yet 
 praise hini >vho is the light of niv countenance 
 and iny God ; yea, I will even now praise 
 him, for whether he gives or takes, he is still 
 iiiy God ; and seeing the wliole, while I see 
 only in part, will always do better for me than 
 I could for myself. 
 
 Resolutions made at this time. 
 
 To watch against my easily besetting sin. 
 
 To read the w ord of God with more med- 
 itation. 
 
 To lift up my heart to the Lord, whenever 
 1 awake in the night. 
 
 To encourage religious conversation in the 
 family on ail fit occasions, particularly with 
 my beloved Miss Futerell. 
 
 To be more watchful and earnest in inward 
 and ejaculatory prayer. 
 
 To be much in prayer for my dear husband, 
 and to endeavour, to be to him a useful as well 
 as a loving wife. 
 
 To endeavour to see the hand of God in 
 every thing, and to undertake nothing with- 
 out a dependance on, and a seeking of his 
 blessing. 
 
 Not to let a spirit of indolence get the bet- 
 ter of me in the education of my children ; 
 and in this matter, may God most especially 
 help me; for I find when anything presses 
 much on my mind, I am very apt to be list- 
 less and inactive in the duty which I owe 
 them. 
 
jh'ebniarii 3, 1799. So far as I know my 
 own heart, I think I desire resignation to the 
 divine will, more than I desire any earthly 
 good. 1 have some temporal affairs pressing 
 on my mind, and am hanging* on Providence 
 for the events of the two ensuing days. Yet 
 I trusts that a desire to live to God, and to 
 grow in grace, are still greater anxieties with 
 me, than any worldly concerns ; yet the Lord, 
 who knoweth our frames, and considereth of 
 what we are made, and is well acquainted 
 with our different temperaments and consti- 
 tutions, sees that I am not wholly deyoid of 
 agitation ; but I trust, he also sees that it is 
 -of that chastened kind, and in that degree not 
 inconsistent with sincere piety, and trust in 
 himself. Indeed I hope I may even say that 
 I feel holy joy in God, and a thorough con- 
 tiction that he will do all things well. Hith- 
 erto lie hath helped me, and he will not now 
 forsake me. He hath cared for my soul, he 
 will not be unmindful of my lesser concerns. 
 He hath prepared my heart to pray, he will 
 surely hear my cry. 1 am so ignorant, even of 
 what would be good for me, that it is my glory 
 to put my trust in his wisdom ; so weak that I 
 rejoice in his power ; so blind that I am thank- 
 ful to be guided by him. If he chooses to 
 grant that which I desire, to his praise shall it 
 be recorded. If he wit^hhold it. still I will joy 
 M my God, and be satisfied that it is just a's 
 
UIARY. 
 
 17S 
 
 it slioiild be ; only, O Lord ! while the sus- 
 pense lasts, be pleased to keep me from un- 
 profitable dejections ; to preserve me in an 
 evenness of mind and cheerfulness of temper, 
 becoming a christian, and worlhy a follower 
 of the Lamb. Bless mv verv dear husband : 
 point out to him the path of duty; make all 
 his way plain ; bring* him through these 
 worldly perplexities ; make me a comfort and 
 blessing to liiBi and to his children, while my 
 life is prolonged ; and so help him in his dif- 
 ficultif»s and trials, that he may say, this is 
 the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our 
 eyes. Oh Lord ! I commit all to thee ; thou 
 knowest my groanings ; thou seest my heart ; 
 my trust is in thee ; my case is cast upon 
 thee. I will hide me under the shadow of 
 thy wings, until these calamities be overpast. 
 Thy mercy hath been often experienced, it 
 will not now fail me. What time I am afraid, 
 I will call upon thee. In God is mv trust: 
 in his hands are the b<?arts of all men. I 
 will not then feai* what man can do. May 
 he enable us to be just and upright to all, 
 and not permit any to oppress and be hard 
 to us, 
 
 March 14, 1801. Oh, my God, I desire 
 this day, not only solemnly to renew my 
 covenant with thee, that covenant which has 
 so long been all my salvation and all my de- 
 
 P2 
 
sire ; but also to open my heart to tliose con- 
 solations which it affords, and particularly at 
 this time, as having all my concerns for time 
 and for eternity in thine hands ; and to look 
 up to thee for that direction which my cir- 
 cumstances require, and which none but thou 
 canst suitably give. As it is a time of per- 
 plexity and difficulty with me, let it be also a 
 time of faith and prayer. Known unto thee, 
 O God ! are all my ways, and unto thee do I 
 commit them. Let thy Providence protect 
 me; let thy good spirit guide me, that in the 
 issue of these events, I may see cause to ad- 
 mire thy grace and goodness, and to add 
 another Ebenezer to my past sweet expe- 
 riences of thy fatherly care and overruling 
 wisdom ; and to chide my heart, that it 
 "should ever, for a moment, doubt thy com- 
 passions, or despom! under thy merciful chas- 
 tisements. Bless, O bk^ss my dear husband ; 
 give him the light and direction which he 
 needs ; be thou his strong tower ©f defence 
 in every time of trouble ; enable me to be a 
 comfort to him, dui'ing our joint pilgrimage 
 on earth, and give us finally to be made par- 
 takers of those eternal Joys, in the hopes of 
 "which our light and momentary afflictions, 
 by thy supporting grace, may be cahuly and 
 steadily borne, so long as tliou shalt see meet 
 to continue them. &\i Lord, who givcst lib=: 
 
MARY. 
 
 irs 
 
 ©rally to those who ask, and (liai without iip- 
 braidins;, give us the wisdom, prudence, and 
 discretion so espcdully necessary to us in 
 our present affairs. Help thou us, and so 
 shall we be helped ; leave us not? neither for- 
 sake us, for in tliee is our trust. 
 
 March 5, 1802. On looking into this book, 
 I see it is near a twelvemonth since I have 
 noted in writing, any of the Lord's dealings 
 w i(Ii me ; yet surely my heart, with grateful 
 remembrance, looks back on many trials gone 
 through ; on many mercies received. In all 
 the perplexities of our situation, how good 
 lias God beeUj not only to hold our souls in 
 life, but to give the enjoyment of vigorous 
 health to my dear husband and family, that 
 ^ve have neither had the additional expenses 
 nor the additional anxieties of sickness to our 
 other cares ; and in the midst of cares, how 
 graciously have I been supported and assist- 
 ed. In times of greatest need, how has God 
 helped ! He has iirst, by Iris grace, helped 
 me to a contented and cheerful mind, and 
 then by his providence wonderfully supplied 
 my returning wants. When I have hardly 
 known how to turn under outward pressure 
 and diflicuhy, and when all human refuge 
 seemed to fail me, the Lord has shewn that 
 he cared for me, and enabled me to pour forth 
 tears of thanksgiving, after ray tears of suppli- 
 cation* Nor will he now leave and forsake me* 
 
176 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 My faith and hope in him, are j^rounded on his- 
 own precious words of promise, and my sweet 
 and long experience of tlieir truth. My God 
 has not taken care of me so long to leave mc 
 to perish at last, either by my own folly, or 
 by the hands of others. He will humble, be- 
 cause it is for our good ; but in due time, he 
 will lift me up again. Yesterday I was full 
 of thought and care. 'No provisions in the 
 house; sundry little domestic debts of abso- 
 lute necessity to be paid. My dear friend 
 and husband full of business in the way of his 
 profession, but no money coming in. I was 
 reading the Bible ; my mind wandered to the 
 state of my finances ; and I thouglit with my 
 house full of dear cJiildren, what am I to do ; 
 I answered to myself, put your trust in God, 
 try to make out, hj some exertion of your 
 own, without perplexing your dear husband ; 
 and even if some sharp pinching should be be- 
 fore you, be satisfied to bear it; it will be for 
 the good of your soul. What do you read 
 your Bible for, but to fetch from it instruc- 
 tion and consolation, suited to all your cir- 
 cumsiances. Presently my husband called 
 me and gave me a sum more than sufficient 
 for the immediate wants of the day, and the 
 payment of those domestic debts, which lay 
 heavy on my mind ; saying, at the same time, 
 ^* this money has come from a most unexpect- 
 ed quarter ^ indeed from a man who had even 
 
said be ^vouli1 not pay ; and now at this early 
 lioui* of the morning, wlicn I was not think- 
 ing of it, he has bronj^lit this money." And 
 now let an infidel evdl this a lucky chance, if, 
 when he had no money to provide for a large, 
 family, an unexpected supply should come to 
 Lis hands ; but let me fall down and worship 
 before the Lord, and say^ Oh thou ! that 
 hearest and answerest prayer, imto thee, in 
 every necessity of soul and body, will I come. 
 This is but one instance of manifold interven- 
 tions of Providence which I have experienced, 
 and which, although, not written down in 
 books, are deeply engraven on my heart, and 
 treasured up in my memory; and. Oh thou, 
 who hast been pleased to provide necessary 
 food for my family, vouchsafe also, to feed our 
 souls with the bread of life. I trust to sit 
 down tomorrow at thy table. Oh give the 
 meat which endureth unto everlasting life ; 
 enable me to feed by faith in my heart on the 
 pi'ecious body and blood of my dear Redeem- 
 er, the purchaser of every mercy, spiritual 
 and temporal. Be also with my dear hus- 
 band, on this sweet and solemn occasion; be 
 with my dear Miss Futerell ; and, ahhough 
 absent in body, may she have spiritual com- 
 munion witli her dear Saviour, and with his 
 people. Be with my dear children, dis- 
 pose their ;>oung hearts to receive divine 
 fiuth, and may ihey, by thy restraining prov- 
 
rs- 
 
 DIAUY. 
 
 Idence, and by an early conversion, be save<l 
 from youllifiil follies, and made pillars in the 
 temple of our God. 
 
 June 1, 1803. Some sore disappointments 
 have happened to ns in temporal matters 
 Avithin a fortnight past, and from quarters 
 most unexpected, especially by my dear 
 husband ; but what then ; is the Lord's hand 
 at all shortened, that it cannot save, or his 
 car heavy, that it cannot hear? Oh no. Be 
 pleased, Oh our gracious God ! to keep us 
 from separating sins, and to enable us, by 
 humble prayer and faith, to make our sup- 
 plications known unto thee ; and then, though 
 every door on earth should appear to he shiut, 
 thou wilt open the very windows of Heaven 
 in our behalf, and pour down blessings in 
 such measure and manner on us, as shall be 
 most for our good and thy glory. Lord, thou 
 knowest how mournfully I am now sitting 
 before thee ; but O ! let not earthly anxieties 
 eat out the heart of spir'<^ual duties ; let not 
 my poor soul starve, but feed me with the 
 bread of life, however pinched, however per- 
 plexed, however hedged up and uneasy my 
 ways may be in other matters. Oh my 
 Heavenly Father ! my past experience teach- 
 es me to rely on thee. Thou wilt clear up 
 this darkness, thou wilt dissipate this provi- 
 dential cloud, and enable me to s^^y again^ 
 the Lord hath helped me. Oh, give me re- 
 
DIARY. 
 
 179 
 
 s,Ignation and liunulity to wait thy time, ami 
 be satisiicd with thy way. Oli help to main- 
 tain a <'lieerl\il conversation before my dear 
 liusband, that I may be a help and no hinder- 
 ance to him. 
 
 Lord, hear and lielp thy poor afflicted^ 
 bowed down and (empcst tost servant, and 
 make all these things work for good to my 
 poor soul. 
 
 June 5, 1803. Lord, how shall I praise 
 Ihee; wherewithal shall I come before God, 
 the God of my mercies. My soul is filled 
 with thankfulness, and my mouth with 
 j)raise. Oh now let my life be holiness, and 
 let me remember the vows of the Lord, 
 which are upon me in the day ; when I cried 
 unto thee, thou heardest me, and sirength- 
 enedst me with strength in my soul. When 
 jiiy spisit was bowed down under the pres- 
 sure of woi'ljlly affliction, thou hast supported 
 lue, thou liast enabled me to east all my care 
 on thee, and tisou hast le'ieved that care; 
 in the houi* of extrenuty thou hast appeared 
 for us, a!id when our way seemed hedged up 
 with diiiiculJics:, thou hast manif«.sted thy 
 gra/ious Providence, 'tid juade us to receive, 
 as an es]U'cial answer to prayer, what, undiei* 
 other circumstances, our thoughtless hearts 
 jniglit have ret-eived as an occurrence in the 
 co?nmop course of t!iings. Let this favour 
 Beyer be obliterated fr ow my heart ', let i»e 
 
180 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 record it to tliy gloiy ami my cornibrt ; iinci 
 when 1 look back on my last writing, and oti 
 this let me feel ; truly God is good to Isiaei, 
 and let me most earnesily desire to be up- 
 right in heart. Lord, go on to help us ; to 
 help my dear husband. Have we not only 
 received earthly good at tliy hands, but have 
 our souls also, been led with tiie bread of 
 life, and our hearts made joyful wiJh the 
 cup of salvation. Oh that iji the stirngth of 
 such provision, we may go on our way with 
 diligence and alacrity ; and seek to grow in 
 grace, and to havi; our conversation as be- 
 coraeth the gospel of Clirist. 
 
 September 25, 1805. Pressed by care, sur- 
 rounded by difiieulties, and in sore perplexity 
 from some domestic cijcunistances, I come 
 to thee, O my God, who hast commanded us 
 to cast all our care on tliee, and to draw 
 nigh to thee in every time of trial. To tiiec, 
 O my Heavenly Father ! have 1 long since 
 devoted myself, and I now desire to renew 
 the dedication. To call thee my Father and 
 to be submissive ; to call Christ my Saviour, 
 and trust in his mercy; the Holy SpirU mj 
 comforter, and to rejoice in his consolations. 
 Lord, thou knowest all my desire, and my 
 groaning is not hid from thee. Oh let my 
 sorrowful sighing come before thee, and hear 
 thou the prayer of the afflicted. In every 
 e^ent^ O Lord, make m^ to remember that I 
 
DIARY. 181 
 
 have sworn, and that I cannot go back, and 
 that having chosen the Lord for my portion, 
 and desired him above eartlily good, I must 
 be satisfied with all that he appoints, and 
 never murmur at what his will permits. 
 Only, Lord, do thou be pleased to bear me 
 up, for I have no strength to be resigned, 
 except thou give it me ; therefore, I look up 
 unto thee for that calmness and submission, 
 which I desire to feel under every trying 
 circumstance. Dark as my situation now 
 seems, thou hast but to say, <* Let there be 
 light," and there shall be light. Since it was 
 not beneath thy condescension to create me, 
 to save me, and hitherto to preserve me, it 
 will not be beneath thy condescension, now 
 to help me according to my necessities ; thou 
 wilt either send relief^ or give grace to bear. 
 Oh, give me humility to suffer what thou 
 shalt appoint, and wisdom to know how to 
 act according to the necessity of my situa- 
 tion. Let thy Spirit teach me; let thy Provi- 
 dence assist me, make me to know the path 
 of duty, and diligently to walk in it ; suifer 
 me not to grope about in darkness, nor to be 
 a prey to the restlessness of my own spirit ; 
 but give me some gracious directions to point 
 out to me the right way of duty, and of safe- 
 ty. Oh Lord, help me, for I am very weak; 
 and my only hope and trust b ki thee. 
 
im 
 
 BIARY. 
 
 J^ovemher i, 1805. ** Be still and know 
 thai I am God." I desire, O Loi'd ! lo be 
 still, and to know that thou art God : so to 
 know it as to he quiet before thee, and even 
 to preserve a holy cheerfulness, seeing tlie 
 same word whicSi proclaims tljj sovereignty, 
 and commands our subnnssion, &ays also^ 
 "God is our refui^e and strenglh. a very 
 present help in trouble;" and surely I have 
 often found thee so ; and now although my 
 worldly concerns be not so as nature could 
 desire, and every outward aspect is gloomy 
 and cheerless ; yet let this be all my salva- 
 tion, all my desire? all my comfort, that there 
 is a covenant well oidered, and sure ; the 
 God of the covenant an unchanging God. I 
 therefore come, and bring my burdens to the 
 foot of the cross. He who died for me, will 
 never leave nor forsake me ; and in every 
 event will order matters so as shall be best 
 for my soul's salvation, which is always the 
 greatest concern. In temporal things, what 
 time I am afraid, I will trust in him ; I will 
 make known to him by prayer and supplica- 
 tion, my requests, with thanksgiving for past 
 mercies, and a holy confidi^nce for what is ta 
 eojne. I am now prepai'ing to draw near to 
 his holy table in a few days. Let not earth 
 keep out heaven ; let not spiritual duties be 
 ©raa^ped or spiritual joys hindered by anxious 
 eares for this world. Fed by the bread of 
 
DIARY. IBS 
 
 Tiftslet me l)c stronjj; to run my race orduty. 
 or of sufUriM^; and (Irinkins; of the wine of 
 heavenly eonsulalion. Jet njy sorrowful s^/irit 
 be eonitbrted, and all my eoneerns be trusted 
 Avitb him, to wliom with joy and eonlideuee 
 1 have trusted my soul. The Lord can clear 
 ihe darkest skies ; nothing is too hard for 
 Omnipotence, Perplexed as ujy dear hus- 
 band's affairs seem : hunible and painful as 
 seem my own ; let the Lord birt speak, and 
 he shall be relieved ; let him but order, and 
 I shall be succoured. Do 1 know God to be 
 so able, do I trust in him as my God, and 
 shall r not be satisfied that his will will con- 
 cur with his power, if it be right for ns. I 
 desire to be so. Pardon, O Lord ! my sinful 
 reluctances to bear the cross ,* and whenever 
 my spirit is disposed to rebel, or murmur, 
 give me such a view of my Hell deserving 
 sins as shall keep me verv humble, and strike 
 me into a holy silence before thee. Lord, I 
 leave my wants and my desires with thee, 
 and in my present great trials more cut off 
 from outward comfort than I have ever been 
 before, I desire to draw the nearer to thee, 
 the all sufficient God. 
 
 JS'oi'cmher 2, 180.^. <*ForI will remember 
 mine iniquity, 1 will be sorry for my sin.** 
 Forsake me not, O Loid, my God, be not far 
 from me ; ** give ear unto my cry, and hold 
 jaot thy peace at my tears." Our i^orldlv 
 
affairs are very iiuich perplexed. My dear 
 husband is pressed by creditors, and disap- 
 pointed by debtors. All these things pressing 
 upon feelings, naturally irritable, and meet- 
 ing with a constitution much enfeebled, make 
 it very necessary, and very comfortable for 
 Bie to draw near to God, the friend of the 
 friendless, the hearer of prayer, the helper 
 of the distressed. I desire at this time to 
 draw near to him in a penitential confession 
 of sin, and to have sin brought to my re- 
 membrance. This I hope will be one means 
 of mitigating suffering ; for now. Lord, after 
 all that is come upon me, ** this is less than 
 my iniquities deserve ;*' will keep down re- 
 pining, and especially by considering that 
 these chastisements may be the very means 
 by which my Heavenly Father sees fit to 
 keep me in ** the right way." Lord, I call 
 upon thee for help in my outward trials ; but 
 I desire earnestly, to seek deliverance from 
 sin. Lord, help me to provide for my chil- 
 dren, help me to teach them the way of sal- 
 tation, and give them grace to seek it for 
 theoi selves, and to devote themselves to God 
 in early life. If thou permit me. Lord, to 
 draw near to thy hol^' table tomorrow, I 
 will carry with me my outward burdens, sor- 
 rows, and wants ; I will cast them at thy 
 feet. I will pray thee to support me under 
 them^ to give me some suitable and con- 
 
DIART. 
 
 11 U 
 
 'venlent relief fioiii them, and say, "thou 
 Avho feedest me with thy llesh, and eheerest 
 me witli the wine of the covenant, wilt not 
 refuse for me, and m^ liousehold, what shali 
 be neediiil for us." J will also carry the 
 heavy load of my sins ; I will sa;^, here Lord, 
 is the cause of my sorrow, here was the cause 
 of thy suffering. Oh thou, who hast carried 
 our sorrows, and borne our iniquities, deliver 
 me from this burden. Pardon the follies of 
 my youth ; the sins of my riper years ; the 
 hourly transgressions of my life. Let me 
 never complain of the burden of suffering, 
 while I remember my multiplied iniquities, 
 but rather wonder at the Lord's grace, and 
 long suffering, and admire his goodness, who 
 by the chastisement of his love is driving me 
 to Heaven, when by the strokes of his wrath, 
 he might long since have driven me to Hell. 
 tN*ovcm})ev 2^, I have been endeavouring, 
 for some time past, to walk in penilentiai 
 humility before God; and as it is a day of 
 adversity with me to make a suitable im- 
 provement of it, by making it also a time to 
 consider. Blessed be God, that it lias been 
 "with me a good time ; a time in which 1 have 
 found it good for me to<lraw near to my God 
 by contrition ; fori trust he hath drawn near 
 to me in a way of mercy ; supported me ia 
 outward trials ; and given me strong desires 
 
 Q2 
 
1B6 DIAHY. 
 
 after holiness. He hath also shown me provi- 
 dential favours, and from day lo day sup'vlied 
 our returnini;* wants, and smoothed some of 
 my outward difticulties. My soul desires to 
 praise him for tlie past ; to be satisfied for 
 the present ; and to trust him for the future. 
 He will not leave me, nor forsake me. 1 am 
 iilled with self reproach, that having God 
 for my Father, I should ever give way to 
 gloomy ap])rehensions. Lord, I commit all 
 to thee ; thou knowest my spiritual necessi- 
 ties; thou knowest my outward pressures. I 
 desire to be still, and trust in thee, my ever 
 present help in time of need ; and with my- 
 self 1 commit to thee, at this time, those for 
 whom 1 am particularly interested. Help 
 Biv dear husband. Bless mv dear children, 
 present and absent, and others whom I desire 
 now particularly to intercede for. Bless our 
 ministers, and reward them for their faithful 
 labours. May Dr. Keith enjoy the consola- 
 tions with which he endeavoured to comfort 
 mourners on the past sabbath. Help me at 
 all times to trust in thee, and all times to 
 praise thee ; and help me every day to do the 
 buniness of tlie day, according to my best 
 ability; and supply me by thy mercy with 
 that measure of knowledge, improvement, 
 and strength, which may enable n^e to do 
 my duty in that state of life, to which thou 
 art pleased to call me. 
 
DIARY. 187 
 
 25t]i. Loi'd, ^vhatever else I want, let me 
 not wani tiie joy of thy salvation ; if it be 
 thy blessed will, let not my spiritual sky be 
 darkened, but favour me wilh tlje light of 
 tliy countenance. Under much outward trial, 
 I have lived happily, and walked elieerfuiiy, 
 because thy face did shine upon me, but I 
 feel now under some spiritual dejection, some 
 inward darkness. Oh my Father! if it be 
 only for trial, and to teach me my de- 
 pendance upon thee, I desire to submit, and 
 to rejoice in the very hidings of thy face ; if 
 they keep me humble, and train me up for 
 jj^lory ; but I am afraid of sin. Search me, O 
 Lord ! and try me, and enable me to try my- 
 self, and to see if there be any allowed evil 
 way in me, that I may resist it, and lead thou 
 me in the way evei'lasting. liCt no uni*epent- 
 ed guilt ; no cherished iniquity; no neglected 
 duty cause thee to hide thy face iVoni me, or 
 separate between my God and me. Oh, 
 Lord! I cannot do without thee; thou hast 
 called me to do without many that I loved. 
 I have endeavoured to bow the head, :'?id 
 bend the heart, and as the streams failed 
 me, to drink deeper of the fountain. Great 
 has been the trial, great the effort ; bni 1 
 have leaned upon my God. I have supported 
 myself against his cross, who for my sake 
 was a man of sorrows, and acquainted Avith 
 grief. Strengthened by him, I have borne 
 
im 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 my griefs, and without flagging, done the 
 duties of my station; but if I have not the 
 light of God's countenance, wo is me, I am 
 undone. Lord, I cannot do without thee. I 
 would not do without t]iee< Oh have mercy 
 upon me, and whatever else thou withholdest, 
 withhold not thyself. Pardon my sins, and 
 give me grace against them. Be my God, 
 and the God of mine. Bless my dear husband, 
 and our dear children. 
 
 None of them that trust in thee shall be 
 desolate. Is this so ; why then are my hopes 
 faint, and my spirit cast down within me ? 
 Father and mother hast thou taken from 
 me ; the grave covers the most of those with 
 whom I kept up much intimacy; and various 
 providences have changed the liearts of some, 
 Avho yet remain. The conflict with aftliction 
 is great; my husband is under trials and 
 straits, which make my heart ache for him, 
 and for myself, as tenderly feeling and shar- 
 ing in all his griefs. My cliildren, though in 
 many respects, sources of great delight to 
 me, cause me also much anxiety for their 
 souls, and for theii* future temporal welfare. 
 The Lord hath said by his experienced ser- 
 Tant, ** none of them that trust in thee, shall 
 be desolate." Surely, Lord, 1 trust in thee, 
 for soul and for body, for time and for eter- 
 nity. Let me not then be desolate. Saw me 
 f-rom all sinful anguish of spirit, and leave 
 
DIARY. ^ ^^ 
 
 me not desolate. Thou wiU do all that is 
 good for my soul. Oh let me be satisfied 
 Avith whatever happens to the body ; it is at 
 present a pained body, the companion of an 
 anxious mind ; yet, Oh my God. I desire to 
 say most sincerely, not my will, but thine be 
 done. I trust in thee ; O leave me not deso- 
 late. Help me to remember the days that 
 are past, in which thou hast been my helper; 
 and therefore still to shelter myself under 
 the shadow of thy wings. Support niy droop- 
 ing mind. Chase away sinful anxieties. Oh 
 leave me not desolate, for renouncing all 
 other hopes, and all other helps, t desire to 
 trust alone in thee, who hast ten thousand 
 ways, by which thou canst send help ; and 
 yi'iih regard to troubled thoughts, hast but 
 to say, peace, and they shall be still in every 
 event, however painful to nature. Lord, thou 
 knowest all my desire, and my groaning is 
 not hid from thee. If this desire, and these 
 groanings.are for things which may be profit- 
 able for myself, and the persons concerned. 
 Oh, for Christ's sake grant them ; but as I 
 am weak, and sinful, and erring, let me cry 
 fo!- nofhing importunatel\ but salvation. Sal- 
 vation for myself, and for those who are near 
 a!»d dear to me as my own soul ; and. Oh 
 Lord ! let the joys and tl»e hopes of this sal- 
 vatioFi. keep thy poor servant from being 
 desolate. 
 
19^ DIAKY. 
 
 Mdij, 1806. *• Lord, teaeli us to pray; and 
 -^heii the liord teaches us to pray, wlmt a 
 delightful asad lioSy employment is it ? liow 
 is the soui supj-sorled, streu^^tliened, com- 
 forted, by thus drawinj^ nigh to God, with a 
 prepared heart. Teaeli us. Lord, to pray ; 
 by tliy i^i'ace, this shall be the prayer of 
 faith. Teach us to pray by thy providences; 
 this shall be the prayer of humble depend- 
 ance on God, and quiet submission to all his 
 appointments. When troubles assail us, tliis 
 is the time to pray ; for God has promised to 
 answer those who call upon him in the time 
 of trouble. Teach me then. Lord, to pray 
 without ceasing, in the house, and by the 
 "way, at times of leisure, and in the midst of 
 business; and having my heart softened, com- 
 forted, and quieted, by often drawing nigh 
 to thee ; in the midst of adverse circum- 
 stances, inward conflicts, and outward trials, 
 may my soul still find its happiness in thee, 
 and never yield to unchristian dejection or 
 complaining. , 
 
 " Ye are the lights of the world." If this 
 is said of Christ's disciples in general, how 
 defectively must they walk, who are not at 
 least the light of their own liimilies. Oh my 
 God, give me grace so to walk before mii^e, 
 as to bring no reproach, on the gospel, which 
 I profess. Let my dear husband iind in me 
 a christian friend ; my children, a faithful 
 
DIARY. 
 
 LOT 
 
 instructor, reprover, ami guide ; and all oT 
 my liouseliold, while tliey \vitness my imper- 
 fections, \vitness also my faith, my hope, my 
 sincerity, my desire, and endeavour to >valk 
 uprightly. 
 
 Tuesday, Oh, thou ^vho givest songs in 
 the night, be pleased in the midst of gloomy 
 fears, and providences of distressing aspect, 
 to give me a holy cheerfulness in thee, and 
 the assurance of faith, that after thus long 
 lielping, thou wilt not now leave me. Salva- 
 tion is of the Lord ; the salvation of the soul, 
 and the necessary supports for the body ; my 
 trust then shall he in the Lord for both. 
 Fulness of grace is wijii Christ, for the poor 
 soul ; and for the supplies of the temporal 
 life, the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness 
 thereof. Suffer me not, therefore, O ! my 
 God, to despair or hardly to doubt while 
 there is liberty of access to the fountain of all 
 sufficiency ; a fountain from which my soul 
 has often been refreshed with liberal streams, 
 and my bodily necessities supjdied in surpris- 
 ing times and ways. Oh, that these remem- 
 brances and a firm trust in God might keep 
 me calm and submissive under the troubles 
 which now assail me. Oh that the thoughts 
 ©f death, wliich, from the many warnings 
 I receive, ought to be always present with 
 me might so engage my attention and desire 
 to gird up my loins and to trim my lamp a^ 
 
192 ^ DIARY. 
 
 to serve as a counterbalance to the anxieties 
 "which possess my soul ; yet in some respects 
 I ought to be anxious, seeing the cause of 
 my anxiety is not so much for myself, as for 
 those connected with me ; but then I would 
 have this anxiety, instead of drinking up my 
 spirits, keep me near to God in prayer, for 
 ]iis help, to enable me to help them and to 
 do every day with diligence the duty of the 
 day. My Heavenly Father, my Father in 
 Christ, I cast myself on thee, and now that 
 J. am afraid, I call upon thee. 
 
 ** And be ye not of doubtful mind." These 
 are the very words of Christ himself, and in- 
 clude, I think, both a command and promise. 
 Lord give me grace to observe it as a com- 
 mand, and to rejoice in it as a promise ; for 
 in the keeping of thy commandments there 
 is great reward, and thy precious promises 
 are the sure support of mourning souls. In 
 what trouble hast thou ever failed me ? 
 Creature comforts, earthly dependencies, 
 have failed me ; but thou hast ever been to 
 me the faithful God ; the helper of the help- 
 less ; my refuge in every new distress. Mul- 
 tiplied have been my distresses for some 
 years past, and with much ado have I labour- 
 ed not so to give up under the pressure of 
 affliction as to be a dead weight to my hus- 
 band, and useless to my children. Great has 
 been God's mercy to enable me to struggle 
 
DIARY, 
 
 19i 
 
 without repining, a* id with a heavy load at 
 heart to preserve a cheerful countenance, 
 and live an active lite ; now my troubles seem 
 heavier upon me than usual, my heart niore 
 sick, my bodily strength uiore impaired, and 
 now it is that I desire not to be of doubtful 
 mind. How many limes has the Lord helped, 
 in days of great distress, and is his hand at 
 all shortened ; is his power lessened, is he 
 
 not the same vesteidav. to da> and for ever ? 
 
 * »■ • 
 
 Be still, then, my sorJ, an(5 banisii doubl and 
 unbelief. I am a poor changing creature ; 
 often returning to sin and folly, often de- 
 clining from the steady path of holiness, and 
 often from the sure and comfortable patli (»f 
 quiet wailing upon God ; but lie is the Lord, 
 and changeth not ; he abideth faithful and 
 cannot deny himself. My trust is in las 
 mercy, not in my deservings. Tiierefore v- slh 
 all the burden of my care I cast myself on 
 him, with all the perlurbHlions of a \u\nd 
 open to his all seeing eye. I bow at his mcacy 
 seat, and humbly trust that makine; knoun to 
 him all my wants by prayer and supjjiica- 
 tion, not forgetting thanksgiving for sup]H>rt 
 under past sufferings and resignaliori under 
 present trial. Tiie Lord will provide, not f;>r 
 me alone, but for those nearer and dearer to 
 me than myself. Lord, be with my dear hus- 
 band and children. Known unto thee are 
 R 
 
154 
 
 MARY. 
 
 llRMr respective tempers and necessities. 
 Send mercy suited to each. More especially 
 may thy converting grace be with the chil- 
 dren, and whatever else awaits them, in this 
 Yale of tears, let their souls live before thee. 
 Is any thing too hard for the Lord? No ; then 
 if I am not helped in my present emergency, 
 not the Lord's power, but his will will be the 
 cause that I am not. Be still then, my soul ; 
 be still. He is God Almighty ; and his will 
 shall concur with his power, if it be for thy 
 good. Lord, I am tempest tossed, agitated, 
 turmoilcd, hardly able to bear up under the 
 lieavy load of expected trial, nor could I m 
 my own strength. 1 tlicrefore turn to thee 
 my Cod and Saviour, and earnestly crave 
 tliy help. Support nty mind during the anx- 
 ieties of suspense, and fit me for which soev- 
 er way thy will shall be pleased to manifest 
 itself. The imbelieving loi*d said '•If the 
 Lord would make windows in heaven might 
 this thi!jg be." But I know, O Lord, that 
 if tiiou wilt but speak it shall be done, and 
 this trial shall pass from me. All hearts arc 
 in thy hand ; the heavens above and the earth 
 beneath are thine. Thou hast many ways 
 more than we can imagine, by which relief 
 may come ; and I desire to have faith in God, 
 and to trust in his providence, to appear for 
 me, in this time of great perplexity and pain- 
 ful anxiety; but I desire, O Lf^ul, aJso lo be 
 
DIARY. 195 
 
 submissive, and to bear tbc trial, if it must 
 come, like a christian, and to do all I can to 
 soften it to those about me by my gentleness, 
 my cheerfulness, and inj huunlity. Yet tiie 
 Lord not only does not forbid, but he allows 
 us to call upon him in the time of trouble ; 
 now, then, () Lonl, 1 lift up my eyes, and I 
 stretch on( my hands unto thee. Open some 
 door of hope, some door of relief. In tins 
 our time of great necessity, exercise thy for- 
 bearance and thy compassion ; and although 
 in all that Ave feel, and all that we fear, thou 
 dost punish us less than our iniquities deserve, 
 add, tliis, O liOrd, to thy many manifesta- 
 tions for us in times of difficulty, that the rod 
 AvSiich hangs over our head, may by thine in- 
 terposing providence, be removed. Oh, for 
 christian composure; Oh, foi* a childlike sub- 
 mission, a calm and humble frame, or that, 
 at least, inward conflict may not unfit me for 
 outward duty. Lord, J leave all witli thee, 
 and that in the name of Christ, the only way 
 to the Father, and the only medium of mercy, 
 "whether spiritual or temporal. 
 
 Mcnj *, 1806. The providential mercy of 
 God did again interpose for us, and the ser- 
 vants whom we feared to lose, and who fear- 
 ed to lose us, are still in our possession, and 
 under circumstances wliich give us reason to 
 hope that they will still continue in oui* ser- 
 Tice, and in their comfortable situations. 
 
'^96 IDIARY. 
 
 ^oremher. *«I will siag unto the Lord a new 
 son.^- for he hatii done wondcrfyl thin^i^s for 
 me." Yesterday was a diiy of peeiiliar\veak- 
 ness of body with me, aid my mind was also 
 much atfecied. 1 attended 'the funeral of 
 Mrs. Nowell, in whom I had eonsiderable in- 
 terest; saw my old friend. Mrs. Bi'ailsford, 
 in considerable suffering, and had a meeting 
 vith M;s. Joseph Ramsay, for the first time, 
 siiiL-e the deaili of her two daughters. 
 
 On tiic evening of this day, Deeember 31, 
 1806, 1 also received a mercy, an answer of 
 prayer, almost next to miraculous, a sum of 
 money exactly suited to a particular engage- 
 ment I had entered into for the first of Jan- 
 uary, with more of trust in the Lord than of 
 oa.vvard certainty about it. This sum of 
 money coming to me so unexpectedly, with 
 regard to the quarter from whence iVeceiv- 
 ed it, overcame me perhaps even more than 
 some afflictive circumsCances have done; for 
 I felt as if I had no strength renraining in me, 
 and as if I should faint and die from the 
 mii'glr^d <'jiH)tions of surprise, gratitude, and 
 awe. i>h. let ihe Lord's nasne be praised, 
 aul let all that is within me bless his holy 
 n. me. I have waited on the Lord, by hu- 
 miijation. by fasiin.«^. by prayer, and let this 
 isistaiice of his goodness, added to so many- 
 others, en CO! I rage me still to wait upon him. 
 I am in great perj>lexity, in many respects, 
 
DIART. ^^^ 
 
 and in many respects a woman of a sorrowful 
 spirit ; but I will cast my burden on the 
 Lord, and trust that lie will bolp and direct 
 me in all my way ; and particularly assist 
 me, and give me the leadinj^s of bis provi- 
 dence, and the teachings of bis Spirit, in 
 "wbat lies before me. 
 
 June 2, 180S. My dear husband, wlio is 
 certainly a true believer, and a great noter 
 of Providence, having received two dollars 
 from a casual patient, said to me. ** here are 
 two dollars which I have just got by chance." 
 I said, thank ye ; but don't, at this time, 
 when we arc in such want of money, say that 
 any comes by chance. He smiled with his 
 usual kindness, and said, I only meant lliat I 
 got it from a passing and not a stated patient. 
 About two hours after he sent me up twenty 
 dollars, just after I had been earnestly pray- 
 ing tliat the Lord from the storehouses of his 
 mercy, would send some supply to my neces- 
 sities and those of my family, which were 
 very great, and covering the twenty dollars 
 was the enclosed paper,^ which I will keep 
 with this note on it, to remind me of the great 
 goodness of my God, and this his most sea- 
 
 * The enclosed paper, covering the twenty dollars re- 
 ferred to, contained these words; 
 
 "Twenty dollars, not sent by chance, but by God. Au 
 vinespccted volunteer payment ot'a doubtful old debt." 
 
 R 2 
 
.98 
 
 DIARY. 
 
 sonivble answer to lliose prayers and suppli- 
 i^alioiis, which 1 was makinj^ beibre him, 
 ■with thanksgiving, for past mercies and hum- 
 ble trust in his goodnessj througli m^ dear 
 Saviour's merits, for the relief of my tempo- 
 ral wants or the supplies of his grace to keep 
 me quiet and humble, under losses and crosses. 
 June 20 f 1808. It is of the Lord's mercies 
 we are not consumed, because his compas- 
 sions fail not. At about ten o'clock last 
 night, w!iile the wind was blowing tempestu- 
 ously, from a threatening thunder storm, but 
 witliout rain, the cry of tire from our next 
 neighbour's was given, and thi'ew our whole 
 street, but particularly our family into great 
 consternation ; the wind high, our house of 
 wood, and joined to that where the fire was 
 said to be. There was every thing to alarm 
 lis that there could be in a matter of that 
 nature ; from the ciies and tumult so near 
 lis, and nothing left to do but to call on the 
 God, who has so often been our helper, and 
 to make what haste we could to save our lin- 
 en, and most portable articles, before the 
 confusion and heat would become too great* 
 God, who is rich in mercy, has been better 
 to us than our fears, and we remain here 
 sheltered from inclemencies, a collected fam- 
 ily, with every thing about us as it was be- 
 fore the alarm. The fire was not at Mrs. 
 Crawley's, but at the adjoining tenement, 
 
DIARY. *^^ 
 
 whicli yd is under the same roof with lier. 
 From the di-y situation of these wooden build- 
 ings, with their appertenances, nothing but a 
 timely discovery, before the fire had arisen 
 to a great height, and while the neighbour- 
 hood was yet up and awake, could, in a hu- 
 man point of view, have saved the three 
 ivooden houses, so nearly connected. How 
 great then should be my gratitude, that where 
 the wit and strength of man, in less than fif- 
 teen minutes, could have availed nothing, the 
 mercy of our God has prevented the awful 
 calamity, and allowed us to sleep in peace 
 and safety, after such a threatening destruc- 
 tion. May the recollection of this goodness 
 keep my heart quiet and submissive under 
 the various cares that, at present, torment 
 It, and while I am excited to labour diligently 
 in my family and station, whatever anxieties 
 assail me, may this, and the many other gra- 
 oeious providences I have experienced, silence 
 my fears, encourage my hopes, and enable 
 me to go on, trusting in that God who at all 
 times lias cared for me, ami will not now 
 ieave or forsake me. 
 
APPENDIX, jS°. YI. 
 
 lETTERS FROM MRS. RAMSAY.* 
 
 *< On Sundays I always think of you more 
 earnestly than on o(her days. All that re- 
 gards you regards me ; hut what regards 
 your religious concerns deejdy interests me. 
 I hope, my dear child, in the midst of busi- 
 ness or pleasure, never forgets that she is 
 born for eternity ; never omit praying to God ; 
 and if you would live safely or happily, never 
 content yourself with the devotions of the 
 morning or evening ; but often, in the course^ 
 of the day, send up the prayer of the heart 
 to God. This maybe done in company; in bus- 
 ini'ss; in t!te midst of innocent pleasure; and is 
 a delightful exercise of the heart, and a great 
 
 * As Mrs. Ramsay did not keep copies of her letters, a. 
 seleclioti could only be made from the originals in her do- 
 inestic circle Others who are in jiossession of her letters 
 will confer a favour by furnishing the Editor with copies. 
 The following effusions of the heart are extracted from ex- 
 temporaneous letters written by her to her daughters, whea 
 only absent, for a few days, on short excursions to the coun- 
 try, in the vicinity of Charleston, and are without date or 
 address. The subsequent letters being dated and addressed, 
 speak, for lliemselves. Editou. 
 
LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, 8.c 
 
 -"iiard on the conduct. Oh, how liappy sliould 
 
 ihe, to have you, my dtviliiii;- chiUl, thus to 
 
 live in the fear of the Lord all the day long. 
 
 <» I suppose you will keep church at home, 
 as it does not look Aveather ilt for travelling. 
 i always think of you Avith more than com- 
 mon tenderness on Sundays. I thmk the se- 
 rious ohservation of the Sahbath, is not 
 enough attended to, even among professing 
 famities ; but, in other cases, it is often a day 
 of the greatest folly, because a day of the 
 greatest leisure. In proportion as a respect 
 for that day, and its institutions are neglect- 
 ed or carelessly attended to, in the same pro- 
 portion, will the religious principle decline, 
 and the practical concerns of eternity be 
 careless! V managed. As a parent, then, full ot 
 anxiety for my children, in every respect, but 
 most of all for their eternal interests, I can- 
 not but regret every Sunday, Avhich I think 
 they spend in a manner not the best calculat- 
 ed to promote those interests, and leel it my 
 duty to warn you never to forget, that, the 
 Sunday is not common time, and according to 
 existing circumstances, to do all that you 
 prudently can, not only to observe it yourself, 
 but to make a conscience of not being asham- 
 ed of such observance." 
 
 <* God bless you my dear child ; may you 
 all love your dear fatber ; love me ; love dear 
 Miss Futerell J love one another. While the 
 
202 LETTER FROM 5IRS. RAISISAY, 
 
 soeSal afTiHtioris ihn^ fill your hearts, you 
 M ill nevt'r be very bad children ; but the 
 niorsjent you perceive youi'self deficient in 
 t]iese sacred feeliugs, dread (he encroach- 
 nie?]ts of vice, in some form or other ; iiiake 
 a sfdt'iiri r)ause, and a^k vourself, what am I 
 a?)o?it ? Wliere is my conduct tending? and 
 pray to God to j^uide your feet into the right 
 way by keepini^* youi' lieart fi-om evii." 
 
 ** As t]ie ehh^st, I vvrife to you, to entreat 
 you to remember J he hiws of hospitality, and 
 be kind to Mr. Montgomery, ^^ to remember 
 the laws of gratitude, and be assistant to 
 your very dear and valiiabJe fi-icnd. Miss Fu- 
 tereil. A great deal, my child, depends on 
 your good example ; on the observation 
 w hich the younger children make ; whether 
 you curb your temper; whether you begin 
 wisely to observe those laws of self dertial, 
 whicli will make you happy to yourself^ and 
 ph'asant to those about you. I persuade my- 
 self I sliall hear good accounts of you. If I 
 do of you, 1 shall of all the rest." 
 
 •• I beg you never to make any excuse for 
 writing badly to me, because the time spent 
 in wfititi'^ the excuse would have enabled you 
 to do better Besides, errors excepted, you 
 really write a pretty letter, and 1 delight to 
 hear from you." 
 
 * \ sick voii'.o- f>'-ntU>rn5m, who came to Charleston for 
 his healtli, but died at iiaitiiuoie, on liis return home. 
 
 Epitor. 
 
TO HER ELDEST DAUGHTER. 203 
 
 « Mrs. P. has joined the eJuireli ioday, and 
 I believe anotliei* sister of Mrs. P. llapj>y 
 tliose, who, in afiiiction, look io the Loid to 
 be their comforter, and do not slight his chas- 
 tisements, by renewing their pursuits after 
 happiness in a workl where it never can be 
 found ; but so far as we improve it. as a s?ale 
 of preparation for a better state of existence^ 
 and then its prosperities will not dehide us, 
 and its very tribulations shall give us a cause 
 for rejoicing.'- 
 
 " I have felt more about P. and E. today 
 than the rest of you. Such Sabbaths as they 
 now are passing would, without great care, 
 soon tend to weaken in their minds. theobJiga- 
 tion to keep the Sabbatli day lioly. Such Sab- 
 baths as you are passing would impress on 
 your minds the necessity, when we are dis- 
 tant from places of public worsliip, for call- 
 ing our families togetlier. and beseecJiing 
 God, by his presence to make our houses 
 sanctuaries for his service." 
 
 ** I felt it very solitary in church on Sun- 
 day without you. But we had excellent ser- 
 mons. I did not go out any where ; and rmt 
 having my morning bible readers, my noon- 
 day catechumens, or m^^ evening hymnists. I 
 had more than usual leisure to read and pray 
 for uiyself, which includes evei'y one witli 
 you ', and I tried to make a good use of it*'* 
 
204 tETTER FROM MRS. RAMSA^ 
 
 « I am very iiiucli niortifiecl at being de- 
 prived of the lioi'se when I most want him. 
 But what wise person ever frets, and what 
 fool ever mended any thing by so doing. I 
 shall comfort myself by saying, " if I do not 
 go out, 1 shall do the more work at home." 
 
 " Mrs. H. is dead. These breaches in our 
 congregations are felt by those, who know 
 the value of religious characters ; and make 
 them earnestly pray, that others, from amon^ 
 our young [)€oplc, may be raised up in their 
 place, to keep up the honour and credit of" 
 religion in the world, and to set an example 
 to those who shall come after them. 
 
 " Poor Mrs. S. is very much burnt ; poor 
 little S. scorched ; but you will be shocked 
 when you come to learn the particulars and 
 know how near the}' were perisiiing. What 
 a lesson never to sleep without committing 
 our souls to God in Christ ; for we can never 
 know in which world we shall' awake." 
 
 " I dont know whether you have read Rob- 
 ertson's America. In this doubt, I have sent to 
 the library for Anquetil, or the first volume of 
 KoUin, an author who, although prolix, and in 
 some degree credulous, ought by all means to 
 be read, I could w is!i you, before you proceed 
 mucli farther in history, to read Priestley's 
 Lectures on that subject, which I think you 
 will find very useful. Bear always in mind, 
 Miat lie is a Sociiiian ; i\H' liis principles tijic- 
 
TO HER ELDEST DAUGHTER 
 
 20: 
 
 tiirc every thing he ^vrites. PioUt by his 
 science, >vhile you lament his errors in divin- 
 ity, and hang on tlie only liope of everlasting 
 life set before you." 
 
 " I send Plutarch, and would have sent 
 some other very pretty books, if it had not 
 
 been for your prohibition. So will not 
 
 write to me ; I must tell him, Mr. Richard- 
 son places the writing of his three most suc- 
 cessful and admired works, to his having been 
 employed, when under eleven years of age, 
 to write letters for some young ladies to their 
 friends and admirers. I am afraid at the 
 
 rate goes on, we shall never see a Pamela 
 
 from his hand." 
 
 On the Sunday preceding the pulling down 
 the old white meeting, to erect in its place 
 the present circular church, an appropriate 
 sern»on was preaclied by Dr. Ilollinshead. 
 The circumstances of the case, were stated 
 in a letter, from which the following extract 
 is made ; ** Some foolish girls laughed at the 
 parting sermon. Sonie feeling ones cried, 
 and many of the old standards were very 
 much affected. I was among this number; 
 but my feelings were rather pleasurable than 
 otherwise ; for I confess the pulling down a 
 decaying edifice, to build a more convenient 
 and handsome one, made me think of the 
 pulling down of the decaying body of a saint, 
 by death, to build it up anew, without spot 
 
206 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, 
 
 or blemish ; and altlioiigh Na<u!*e feels some 
 regret at parting with our okl bodies, as well 
 as with our old churches, it is a regret chas- 
 tened with a cheerful and glorious hope of a 
 resurrection unto life eternal; but this is a 
 very serious letter for such joung correspond- 
 ents ; yet, I hope not more serious than tlieir 
 well informed mind will relish on a serious 
 occasion." 
 
 On the departure of Miss Futerell for Eng- 
 land. " If you don't all feel very sorrowful, 
 J pity you ; if you do all feel very sori'owful, 
 I pi(y you. Yet I wisli you all to be sorrow- 
 ful, for it is in oui* circumstances a sacred 
 duty as well as a tender feeling ; and to you 
 young ones, may be an initiatory lesson on 
 the vanity of human life and human hopes; 
 and teach you to set your hearts there, 
 where true and unchanging joys are only to 
 be found." 
 
TO HER HUSBAND. 
 
 2or 
 
 EXTRACTS OF A LETTER FROM MARTHA LAURENS RAM- 
 SAY, AVFvl T TEN NINE DAYS AFTER THE DEATH OF HER 
 t FATHER, TO DR.iDAVID RAMSAY, AT COLUMBIA. 
 
 Charleston^ December 17, 179'2. 
 
 MY VERY DEAR HUSBAND, 
 
 You have doubtless beard, by tbis time, 
 that I am fatherless, and will feel for me in 
 proportion to the great love you have always 
 shown me, and your intimate knowled.i^e of 
 my frame, and the love I had for my dear 
 departed parent. Never was stroke to an af- 
 fectionate child more awful and unexpected 
 than this has been to me. I had heard from 
 my dear father, that he was somewhat indis- 
 posed, but not confined even to the house ; 
 however, last Tuesday and Wednesday week 
 I was seized with so inexpressible a desire to 
 see him, that nothing; could exceed it. and 
 nothing could satisfy it. but the going to see 
 him. Accordingly, on Wednesday noon, very 
 much against my family and personal con- 
 v<-iience. I set out with faithful Tira and lit- 
 tle Kitty, and slept that night at Mrs. Loo- 
 co^k's; the next morning it rained, but I 
 coM^d not be restrained. I proceeded to 
 JMen'^in. and arrived there at one o'clock, 
 Avet lo the skin. I found my dear father in- 
 disposotl, as I thought, but not ill. He con- 
 
yOS LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 versed on indifferent matters ; seemed very 
 much delighted with my presence ; told me 1 
 was a pleasant eliild to him ; and God woidd 
 bless me as long as I lived ; and at twenty 
 minutes before eight o'clock, reiired to rest. 
 The next morning, at seven o'clock, I went 
 to his bed side ; he again commended my 
 tenderness to him, and told me he had passed 
 a wakeful night | talked to me of Kitty and. 
 of you ,* had been up and given out the barn 
 door key, as usual. At eight I went to 
 breakfast. In about ten minutes I had des- 
 patched my meal, returned to him, and 
 thought his speech thick, and that he waver- 
 ed a little in his discourse. I asked him if I 
 might send for Dr. M'Cormick ; he told me 
 if I desired a consultation, I might ; but that 
 he had all confidence in my skill, and was 
 better. I asked him why his breathing was 
 laborious ; he said he did not know, and al- 
 most immediately fell into his last agony; 
 and a bitter agony it was ; though, perhaps, 
 he did not feel it. At ten o'clock, next day, 
 I closed his venerable eyes. Oh, my dear 
 husband, you know how I have dreaded this 
 stroke ; how I have wished first to sleep in 
 death, and therefore you can tell the sorrows 
 of my spirit ; indeed they have been, indeed 
 they are very great. I have been, and I am 
 in the depths of affliction; but I have never 
 felt one murmuring thought j I have never 
 
TO HER HUSBAND. ~^'^ 
 
 iitterrd one imirmiiring word* Who am I, a 
 poor vile wretch, that I should oppose my 
 will to the will of God, who is all wise and 
 all j^raeious ; on the contrary I have heen 
 greatly supported ; and if I may but be fol- 
 ioNving Christ, am willing to take np every 
 cross, which may be necessary or profitable 
 for me. I left Mepkin at one o'clock on Satur- 
 day, as soon as the body of my dear parent 
 was decently laid out. and T was suificiently 
 composed for travelling. I know, by infor- 
 mation, that the awful ceremony^ was per- 
 
 * This refers to the burning; of the body of Mr. Henry 
 Ltuu-ens, which his dnnghtcr well knew had long been re- 
 solved upon. She had also resolved, that she would neither 
 be a witness of the transai-tion, nor in the vicinity ofihe 
 place where what she calls "the awful ceremony" was to 
 be performed ; and therefore, came away, very soon !>fter 
 the hotiv of her father was decently laid out, and before 
 til : funeral pile was constructed. Filial duty constrains the 
 editor to observe that this transaction has been grossly !;.is- 
 represented bv American authors, who ought to have 
 known better ' The Rev. Biographer of WashingtOM, goes 
 out of his wav to mention that, when Henry Laurens, 
 president of the first congress, came to die lie said, |^' My 
 flesh is too good for worms, 1 give it to the flames lu 
 Kingston's new. American Biographic Dictionary, printed 
 at Baltimore, in tSlO. it is asserted that " Henry Laurens 
 directed his son to burn his body on the tljird day, as the 
 sole condition of inheriting an estate of sixt\ thousand 
 pounds sterling." Both these statements are incorrect. 
 There wss no forfeiture^ »ior any penalty whatever, annex- 
 ed to the noM ]>eriormance of the will of Henry Laurens, 
 rel;>.tive to the burning of his body. It was simplv ei.joined 
 asadutv The motives to his determination, for having 
 his body burnt, are also mistated. Mr. Laureas often 
 S2 
 
2 ^ ® LETTER FROM MI^S. RAMSAY 
 
 formed last Tuesday. I have never been able 
 to write till this day. Our dear children are 
 well. Eleanor conies to my bed side, reads 
 the Bible for me, and tells me of a heavenly 
 country, where there is no trouble. Feeling 
 more than ever ray dependanee on you for 
 countenance, for support and kindness, and 
 in the midst of sorrow, not forgetting to 
 thank God that I have so valuable, so kind, 
 and so tender a friend ; 
 
 I remain, my dear husband, 
 
 Your obliged and grateful wife, 
 Martha Laurej^s Ham say. 
 
 spoke of his preferring the incineration of the dead to their 
 inhumHtion. His reasons were a belief that several persons 
 •were buried before they were irrecoverably dead. This 
 opinion was perhaps strongly impressed on his mind from 
 what happened to his own daughter, the subject of tiiese 
 memoirs, as related in the beginning of this work. He 
 dreaded, as infinitely worse than certain death, the possi- 
 bility of life returning to him when shut up in a bo\ in the 
 cold ground, so far below its surface as to be out of the 
 reach of all human help. He also, consistently with scrip- 
 ture, entertained high ideas of the purifying nature of fire, 
 as separating all dross and defilement from the substances to 
 which it was applied. " And I will bring the third part 
 through thejire, and will refine them as silver is refined, 
 and will try them as gold is tried." Zechariah, xiii. 9. 
 "He is like a refiner's fAX, and like fuller's soap " Maluchi 
 iii. ,?. Editor. 
 
TO MRS. KElTli. ■*' *■ ^ 
 
 IIXTRACTS FROiVI A LETTER WRITTEN BY MRS, RAMSAY 
 TO MRS. KEITH, WHEN TRAVELLING IN THE NOR- 
 THERN STATES WITH HER HUSBAND, THE REV. DR. 
 KEITH. 
 
 Cluir-leston, September 3, 1808. 
 
 MY DEAR MPS. KEITH. 
 
 As my letter is only meant to express the 
 feelings^^of my heart iW Dr. Keith and your- 
 self, 1 request you will giveyourself no anxi- 
 ety ahout answering it. I shall rejoice to 
 hear of your welfare tlirough other channels^ 
 and shall not expect any direct communica- 
 tion, till the time when Providence shall re- 
 turn you safely to your old habitation, and I 
 shall again enjoy those intercourses of affec- 
 tionate christian friendship, which have so 
 often delighted and warmed my heart. 
 
 Miss S. was so good as to allow us the 
 reading of your very affocting letter, wherein 
 you give an account of Mrs. Ws. renewed 
 afflictions, and of your first meeting. She 
 Iras, indeed, been closely disci jdined in the 
 school of suffering ; and one cannot read of 
 lier grief, but with a weeping eye ; but 1. 
 think it was a kind Providence, that sent Dr. 
 Keith to her just at that time, and T make 
 no doubt, she will sing of this mercy, and I 
 hope also of many others in the midst of the 
 apparent frowns of her heavenly Father, and 
 under the gracious, though for the present, 
 
21^ 
 
 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 painful eliaslisements of Siis hand. I have 
 teaderly jKirlicipated in the happy, and chris- 
 tian meeting with Dr. Keith's relations, and 
 in all the well merited respect and affection, 
 >vhich you have received t!irou.u,!i all yoar 
 journey, and I have heen proud in my heart 
 to say, well, this is our n^inisier ; these are 
 our friends ; in short, my dear Mrs. Keith, 
 you have heen in all my thoughts, in all my 
 prayers ; and no day has passed, that we have 
 not spoken of you in the family more or less. 
 Our city has heen most uncommonly healthy, 
 and yet there have heen several remarkahle 
 deaths, from which we may learn and fear, 
 and be mindful of our blessed Saviour's ad- 
 monition to^us, always to watch. Among 
 these, may be numbered Mr. M. who, after 
 a very few days warning, was, about a fort- 
 nii>;ht ago, called from time to eternity. Bv 
 his death, a new breach is made in a family, 
 •which has lately experienced severe bereave- 
 ments ; and yesterday, the remains of that 
 picture of strength and health, J^v, B. were 
 committed to their parent earth with great 
 funeral solemnity, and amidst an amazing 
 concourse of spectators. His illness was but 
 of three days continuance, and I believe no 
 apprehensions of danger were entertained for 
 him, till within a few hours of his dissolu- 
 tion. His youngest child had been ill for 
 some time, and died about twenty four hours 
 
21' 
 TO MISS BRAILSFORD. 
 
 ?fter its fiUhcp. May yoii, my very dear 
 IVionds, continue to experience the guardian 
 care of oav God and Saviour, tlirough the 
 lemaindei- of youi- journey. May you be 
 happy in liis presence ; and having enjoyed a 
 full measure of temporal and spiritual bless- 
 ings, may vou return safe and satis^ed ; you, 
 nVy dear'Mrs. Keith, to a circle of fond rela- 
 tives and friends, and you, my honoured 
 pastor, to dispense again to your attaf^'^ed 
 people, those instructions of >visdom ^^nd 
 piety, with which they have been so often 
 delighted and edified. 
 
 From your aiFectionate friend, 
 
 Martha Laurens Ramsay. 
 
 The following letters were addvessed to Miss EhzabetU 
 Brailsford hv her attached and aflectionate tnend, Mariha 
 Laurens. Thev are without date, but from circumstances 
 appear to have been written in Knglaud, and consequent- 
 ly between the sixteenth and twenty sixth years ot the 
 age of the writer.* 
 
 MY DEAR B. 
 
 What do you think of my begging your 
 acceptance of a pack of cards ? Yes, I do. in- 
 deed, and sincerely liope you inay under- 
 stand so well how to manage them as to be 
 
 * These letters are arranged in the order in which they 
 tvere received. •k'„.^^„ 
 
214 
 
 LETTER FIIOM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 a continual winner. Those who play with 
 these cards, seek to gain, not lieaps of shining 
 dust, but an inheritance incorruptibh*, unde- 
 iiled, and which fadeth not away. O, may 
 we learn wisdom from the children of this 
 generation ; and not suffer their care for 
 th'.ngs temporal to outdo ours for thinj^s 
 eternal. See how tlie gambler j^ives up !iis 
 time and talents, and neglects his sleep and 
 meals to gratify his ruling passion : and shall 
 we., who have so glorious an object to en- 
 gage oa»* alFections, as the precious Saviour, 
 and whose highest aim should be to love and 
 serve him ; shall we, I say, fold our ai'ms in 
 shameful inactivity and be content with our 
 low attainments? May grace forbid, and may 
 the desirable end in view animate our zeal, 
 enliven our hearts, and stir us up to greater 
 diligence. It often makes me tremble to 
 bc'jokl the unutterable ardour with which 
 worldly persons pursue their beloved amuse- 
 ments, and with how much languor I follow 
 him, whom I acknowledge as the sovereign 
 of my heart, and possessor of my warmest 
 passions. I reason with myself thus; surely 
 he whom my soul loveth is infinitely more 
 estirnable than the idol of these deluded 
 mortals; and if I were as much in earn«'st 
 in my pursuits as they are in theirs, I should 
 act as consistently as they do. Then am I 
 bowed down, and my spirits droop j sorrow 
 
TO MISS BRAILSFORD. 
 
 21, 
 
 overwholfns ine ; I go mournfully ; and am 
 ready to cry out, I am no christian, no child 
 of (iod, (ill the condescending Jesus speaks 
 lliis comfortahle language to my soul. ** Fear 
 not. thou tremhling woim. I am thy salva- 
 tioji ; I have loved thee, and >vill love thee ; 
 I hear thy groanings, and thy complaint is 
 not hid from me. I hear the imperfections 
 of thy hest services, as well as the guilt of 
 thy worst sins ; thy restlessness, because 
 thou lovest me no more, and desires to love 
 me belter, shall be accepted as an evidence 
 of tliy sincerity ; be not faithless, but believ- 
 ing; pray without ceasing; and leave thy 
 cause in my kind hands ; the men of the 
 Moi'id have notliing to resist ; every thing 
 co-oj)erates with their inclination, and, there- 
 fore, is tljeir way for the present, easy. Thou 
 hast mighty enemies to oppose, the lust of 
 the eye, the hist of the flesh, and the pride 
 of life are all in league with thy wickr d 
 heai't against thee ; yet, fear not ; look unto 
 me, the captain of thy salvation. Though 
 thv foes be many they shall not overcon e 
 thee; for 1 have undertaken for thee, and I 
 Avill bring thee safely through. When these 
 lovers of the worUl, having had tlieir good 
 things, and enjoyed the portion which tboy 
 have chosen, are shut out of my kingdom, 
 then shalt thou appear with boldness in the 
 glory of thy Lord; and having; passed tbrough 
 
216^ LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY- 
 
 floods of eosillkd, and seiisof tiibulation, and 
 thy robes being* wasbcd in the blood of the 
 Lamb, tliou shalt no longer nioiirn thj frailty 
 and lament thy deficienees; but for ever thou 
 shalt serve me perfectly and enjoy me fully." 
 
 O, may we no lon^^er be ungrateful to so 
 kind a Master ; but ^vith our whole soul and 
 strength, renounce the world and follow 
 him ; may he shed abroad his love into our 
 hearts, begetting love in us, and so captivate 
 lis with his matchless beauty, that we may 
 be cruciiied to the world and all its follies. 
 Draw us, thou loving Saviour, and we will 
 run afier thee. Reign thou the unrivalled 
 sovereign of our hearts, and let nothing 
 tempt our souls to wander from thee. O, 
 feed us, day by day, with the bread of life, 
 and let the heavenly food diffuse new vigour 
 and alacrity through all our members, that 
 thi!b strengthened and refreshed, we may go 
 on liyjoicing in our way to Sion, and with 
 holy transport praise continually the God of 
 ©ur balvation. 
 
 I hope, Brail sford, you will excuse the 
 length of this scribble. I have unwarily en- 
 larged my liuiits, and I fear have trespassed 
 on your patience ; but the adorable Redeemer 
 and his pleasant paths are themes so de- 
 lightful, and to converse with you, an em- 
 ployment so agreeable, that I did not know 
 how to Jay down my peu. 
 
TO MISS BRAILSFORD, ^^^ 
 
 lUiink Mason deserves at least the appel- 
 lation of a pious writer ; and tliough his stvle 
 is by no means elegant, yet the sweet com- 
 fort^nd scriptural instruction which many 
 of his writjn.^•s contain, nrake them worlhy to 
 he read by all those who are in pursuit not 
 of the shadow but the substance. 
 
 I should have no j^ood idea of any profess- 
 or >vlio could not deiij^ht in a sermon, howev- 
 er excellent, that w as not delivered with the 
 embellishments of oratory, or like any book 
 wliich was not dressed with the graces of fine 
 language. A diamond, though unpolished, 
 possesses intrinsic worth; and gospel truths, 
 however expressed, are highly valuable, and 
 will be relished by every sincere christian, 
 even from the lips of the most unlettered 
 member. 
 
 I shall see you in about an hour's time, or 
 perhaps sooner; till then, adieu. Receive tho 
 most affectionate greetings from yours, 
 
 M. Laurens. 
 
 Till now, my dear girl, I never knew how 
 much I loved you ; the loss of your company 
 pains me exceedingly, and 1 lament your ab- 
 sence with unfeigned r, gret ; from" my first 
 acquaintance I have been attached to you, and 
 1" 
 
^18. 
 
 liETTER FROM INIRS. RAlSISAY 
 
 every month has beheld you growing in my 
 esteem ; but in the last week which I spent 
 •with you, you have entirely finished the con- 
 quest, and impi'inted on my soul your beloved 
 image, in characters so indelible, that neither 
 time nor absence can ever erase them. How 
 oficn since the 31st. of July have I wished 
 fo?' my Brail sford ; never have I beheld a 
 beautiful prospect, l;ut I thought with how 
 much more pleasure I should enjoy it, if you 
 Were with me, and with what satisfaction we 
 should join in adoring the Divine hand, whicii 
 so bountifully clothes the earth with elegance, 
 and enriches it with [denty for the conveoien- 
 ©y and delight of undeserving man. 
 
 As we are generally willing to believe what 
 ^ye wish. 1 cannot help thinking that my dear 
 Eliza, feels for me in some degree, what I do 
 for her ; and that I have at least some little 
 part in her tenderest affection. 
 
 I trust too, that our regard for each other 
 is founded, on a noble basis ; and that united 
 by christian bonds, our friendship will be eter- 
 nal. I glory in an intimacy with one who 
 seems so sincere a lover of the Lord Jesus, 
 and with whose conversation I have been so 
 often delighted and refreshed ; and the very 
 thought of our treading together the narrow 
 way that leads to bliss, rejoices me beyond ex- 
 pression, llow much reason have I for thank- 
 fulness, that at a time when my heart is pe- 
 
TO MISS BRAILSFORD. ^ ^ ^ 
 
 fciiliavly softeiied, and 1 Irave an utter disrel- 
 ish for alHvoildly company, L.od has biesHed 
 Die with a friend, who \vill not despise me for 
 an attachment to religion, but rather encour- 
 age and assist me in my progress. I recol- 
 lect with a mixture of joy and sorrow, some 
 moments that we have spent together, when 
 free from intruders, and could with plea&ure 
 transport myself to the dear little room. 
 
 Yet, dear friend, though mountains lie be- 
 tween us, and a vast extent of land separates 
 our mortal frames, do not our souls hold in- 
 timate communion ! They do. 
 
 Absent in body, not in mindj 
 Our souls continue one. 
 
 Shall I not add ; 
 
 ■While each to each in Jesus joined, 
 We happily go on. 
 
 If in Jesus, it must be happily ; what thougli 
 fortune fail, friends forsake, and enemies 
 triumph, let us walk together in Jesus. 
 
 We cannot sinkAvitli such a pi'op 
 As bears the world and all Uiings up. 
 
 Oh ! Bi'ailsford. what unbelieving hearts 
 must we liuve, if we ever distrust a gracious 
 Providence, or indulge anxiety a moment. 
 >Vho has u|)!jeld us from our mothers wornh^ 
 and who preserved us in each changing scene 
 of life from various dangers ? Who but the 
 
220 
 
 LET PER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 same God, wSio is still kind, and whose com- 
 passion extends far beyond our utmost 
 thoughts, far. far beyond our deserls. 
 
 Let us not fear thetn, but confide in him 
 \vhose promise never fails. The rock of 
 uges is our security ; Jesus our advocate, and 
 the Spirit our guide and comforter. 
 
 Each trial and distress lo^es its unpleas- 
 ing aspect, regarded as the messenger of 
 good to our souls, as the mark of our adop- 
 tion, and our privilege, as heirs of Heaven, 
 In Jesus then let us still go on ; it will, it 
 must, it cannot fail of being happily for us. 
 
 To view him bearing his cross will sweet- 
 en ours, and make it pleasant. He having 
 finished his work, and gained the victory for 
 lis ; as our forerunner he is gone to prepare 
 for us places, infinitely glorious, and suffi- 
 ciently deliglitful, to counterbalance every 
 troublesome incident, and each difuculty we 
 juay meet with in the rugged road of life. 
 
 MY DEAR BRAILSFORD, 
 
 It gives me great concern to be so long 
 Avithout seeing you ; but as nothing save the 
 "Weather prevents me, I w ill not complain ', for 
 1 think to be angry with the weather is but 
 an oblique iiiurmurinj^ against him at whose 
 command the winds blow and the raiiis fall. 
 
TO MISS BRAILSFORD, 
 
 22^ 
 
 H hoped that your dear mamma's sph'its are 
 not greatly depressed, and I especially trust 
 that my dear Brailstbrdj to the honour of her 
 christian character, exerts her every influ- 
 ence in the. service, and to the comfort of this 
 dear mamma, and that her very countenance 
 tends to dissipate melancholy. Am I not 
 saucy to dictate to you, who are far more ca- 
 pable of instructing me? 1 hope you do not 
 deem it so, since I mean not to teach, but 
 merely, according to the sentiment of the 
 Avise man, as iron sharpeneth iron, so doth 
 the countenance of a man his friend, to speak 
 freely to my much esteemed Eliza, and in 
 compliance with the precept of the Apostle, 
 ^* to exhort her to love and good works ;'^ 
 besides, my dear, it serves the double purpose 
 of setting me on my guard ; for since the 
 death of our pious friend, till the last evening, 
 a thick gloom has hung around my brow , and 
 very much unfitted nje for every relative duty; 
 but prayer and reflection have taught resigna- 
 tion, and blessed be God that it is with a 
 degree of sweet experience that I sing^ 
 
 Trials make the promise sweet, 
 Trials give new life to prayer. 
 Trials lay me at liis feet, 
 Lay me low, and keep me there. 
 
 To a blessed perfection are they indeed apr 
 rived, who can number their sweetest mo- 
 inenls among the times of their sharncs 
 
 T 2 
 
222 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 trials; and who. in the deepest night of af- 
 ilictjon, can rejoiee in the God of their sal- 
 "vation. 
 
 My highest ambition is to have my will 
 lost in the will of a kind nnemng God; and 
 under every dispe'jsation to lie as a submis- 
 sive humble child at the feet of a compas- 
 sionate father; to be made one witli Christ, 
 and simply to follow the Lamb, whitherso- 
 ever he leads, since we may rest assured if tat 
 the end of the journey, a^d the kingdom into 
 >vhich we shall enter, will sufficiesitly com- 
 pensate for all the troubles of the way. 1 beg 
 pardon, my dear friend, for having detained 
 you so long ; but wlien once I begin a con- 
 versation with you, I know not where to end. 
 Burn, I beseech you, tiiis scrawl as soon as 
 you have read it. My uncle and aunt, my 
 dear friend, are neither of them well ; me- 
 thinks 1 see your friendly bosom heave with 
 sympathetic sorrow. I shall be particularly 
 obliged to you for the archbishop of Cam- 
 bray's Dissertation on Pure Love, and will 
 take great care of the book. 
 
 My love to your mamma and Susan, and 
 believe me. 
 
 Your ever affectionate 
 
 M. Laurexs. 
 
 You will rejoice to hear, my dear Brails- 
 ford, that I have had the most abiding sense 
 
TO MISS BRAILSFOIID. 22 S 
 
 of my own nolliinj^iiess, ami lived in the most 
 hapnv nearness lei our covenant God and Fa- 
 ther,^ever since 1 left Bristol. I don't know 
 tliat I have been one day straightened m 
 psaver, or backward to duty. " Hie candle of 
 the/^Lord batli indeed shone brij-ht upon me, 
 and the precious Saviour hath maniiVsled his 
 pardoning love and merciful acceptance in a 
 most wonderful manner to my soul. I had 
 for a l(mg wliile before been walking in dark- 
 ness and distress, longing for a return of such 
 <lays, as I had once e.\])erienccd ; and crying 
 mi m bitterness of s|>irit, O that it were with 
 me, as in tinies ]ras(, that the shadows would 
 disperse, ainl ihe reviving light break in upon 
 my beni^^lited soul; at length I submitted 
 myself wliolh to God ; acknowledged that 
 hs's hand was'nol sliortened that he couUl not 
 save, nor his ear heavy* that he could not 
 liear; but it was my iniquities that had sep- 
 arated beiween him' and my soul, and brought 
 iiic thus low. I bowed at his feet, desiring 
 to be fiUed with resignation, and enabled to 
 declare him righteous in all liis ways, and 
 jus? in all h.is Judgments, even though I should 
 go mournlns^ all my<iays. I hated^ myself, 
 because of all my vileness. and resolved, be- 
 fore the Lord, that if I could not find com- 
 fort i:i him, I would never, never seek it in 
 anv thing besides. I set myself more dili- 
 gently to read the word of God,- lived af* 
 
224 
 
 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 much as possible in silence and retirement^ 
 endeavoured unwaveringly to lix my eye upon 
 a bleeding, loving, sin atoning Jesus ; and 
 without ceasing, said unto him, for thy pas- 
 sion's sake restore my comfort ; yet not my 
 will, but thine be done. I would not follow 
 thee merely for the loaves and fisbes, but be 
 content to partake also of the wormwood and 
 gall; and, 0, my dear B. when he had thus 
 humbled m©^ made me to suffer for sin, and 
 brought me to the foot of the cross ; he gave 
 me in a moment that which he had so long 
 withheld, and satiated my longing soul. From 
 that time I liave been in a most desirable 
 frame, day by day, enjoying sensible com- 
 munion with him whom my soul loveth. and 
 filled with abundance of heavenly consolation. 
 My conscience has been made very tender, 
 and I am more than ever fearful of grieving' 
 the Spirit of God, and frilling into such a 
 course of folly as shall provoke him to depart ; 
 jet withal I have a thorn in my llesh, some- 
 tliing to keep me from being puffed up with 
 these large measures of comfort. Whenever 
 pride begins to rear its head, and swell its 
 liaughjy bosom, I think of that levity which 
 tJnetures all my actions, ami makes my be- 
 haviour oftentimes very unworthy the pro- 
 fession of a christian. I am now striving and 
 praying most earnestly against a trifling 
 spirit, aad hope through tJie grace of God^ 
 
TO mSS BRAILSFORD. 225 
 
 (hat my labour shall not be in vain in the 
 liOi'd. From my iirst conviction I loved my 
 bible, but it is now become most peculiarly 
 precious to me. I esteem it indeed. *• as a 
 bundle of myrrh, and a most delightful nose- 
 gay." The contemplation of its divine truths 
 engages me to live much in prayer; and 
 the more I pray, the more disposed I find 
 myself to search and study the scriptures. 
 Assist me, my dear fellow traveller, to sing 
 the praises of that Jesus, who has thus 
 wrought wonders for me, and brought me out 
 of great darkness into his marvellous light. 
 
 Rejoice with me, that I, who am less than 
 the least of all saints, and utterly unworthy 
 the least drop of comfort, should be thus 
 blessed with the plenteousness of God's love, 
 and satislied with large draughts of living 
 water. 
 
 I was reading, a few mornings ago, the 3d. 
 of Hebrews, a sd I resolved in my mind to 
 mention it to you the first time I wrote; it 
 jj^pears <o ine one of the most expressive 
 paintings of the dreadful nature of an evil 
 heart of unbelief in the whole bi!)le : and to 
 contain enough to incite us to a continual 
 j>raving. that tliat cursed sin may not hinder 
 us fi'om entering into the rest prepared foi* 
 the people ot* God. 
 
^26 XETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 -MY DEAR BRAILSFORD. 
 
 With regard lo our joiirnej, the hand of 
 God, that kind and bountiful hand, which 
 from the fn'st moment of our lives has been 
 showering uj)on us innumerable benefits, was 
 still over, and with us to guard and to guide. 
 It was well worth being detained a few days 
 in Bristol, to have the roads in the agreeable 
 state which we found them ; and I think 
 I may learn from henceforward never to 
 murmur at any disappointment, but to believe 
 that every particular circumstance is order- 
 ed for some wise, and good end. I am hap- 
 py to inform you, my dear aunt's amendment 
 is answerable to our most sanguine expecta- 
 tions. I hope that breathing this fine air for 
 two or three months, will give her as much 
 health as her delicate constitution will admit 
 of. My dear uncle is in much the same 
 state as Avh en he left you; friendship inter- 
 ests itself in all the concerns of the beloved 
 object, and makes its cares and pleasures her 
 own ,' to you, therefore, there needs no apol- 
 ogy for treating particularly on the health 
 and affairs of my dearer halves ; on the con- 
 trary, should I neglect them, you would be 
 disgusted with my ingratitude and banish me 
 from your esteem. 
 
 From the window where I sit, I behold 
 ©loud topt hills and lowly vallies, rural cot- 
 
TO MISS BRAILSFORD. -^^^ 
 
 t*agC3, and pretty chirping birds, wliicli form 
 a pleasing variety to charm tlie senses, and 
 till the licart of every susceptible creature 
 with sentiments of love and gratitude to the 
 beneficent Creator. Our parlour commands 
 a view of the sea, and as the wind has been 
 pretty high, I have had an opportunity of 
 observing the awful works of Nature, while 
 the swelling billows, with an angry roar, dash 
 themselves against the submissive sand. 
 
 I hope soon to see you in Teignmouth ; 
 but should the decree of Providence appoint 
 another lot for you, believe me, I shall ever 
 be tenderly solicitous about your welfare; 
 your temporal, but especially your spiritual 
 concerns will ever lie near my heart, and I 
 shall never cease to entreat a merciful and 
 prayer hearing God, for the sake of our dear 
 Saviour, to grant you abundance of grace, to 
 strengthen you with might by his spirit in the 
 inner man, and so to lead you here with his 
 counsel, that hereafter he may receive you 
 into those mansions of unfading bliss, which 
 he hath prepared for every true believer. 
 
 That the blessings of God may ever attend 
 yau, is the constant wish and prayer of 
 Your affectionate friend, 
 
 M. Laurens, 
 
228 LETTER FROM INIRS. RAlsiSAY 
 
 TO MRS, WILSON, NOW MllS. SIMONS. 
 
 MY DEAR COUSIN, 
 
 I SEND you the book, Doddridgfi's Rise and 
 Progress of Keligion, which I promised, and 
 Avliich I beg you will accept as a token of my 
 affection. I think it a most excellent treatise, 
 well calculated to awaken thosc who are 
 careless about their soul's salvation, and full 
 of heavenly comfort for those wJio arc in 
 trouble of mind, body, oy estate j you are 
 very much on my licart and in my thoughts, 
 and my earnest prayer to God for you is, tiiat 
 lie may support you in all yonr trials, and so 
 sanctify them to you, that in the end you may 
 liave reason to bless him for what at present 
 seems most bitter and severe ; and to say, 
 " It is good for me that 1 have been afflicted, 
 for now have I learned thy word." With 
 sincere ciiristian sympathy and friendship, 
 J remain 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 October 22, 1790.- 
 
TO MISS HAZLEHURST, 
 
 229' 
 
 >^OTE TO MISS JULIANA HAZXEHURST. 
 
 Jlpril, 181 1. 
 
 -MY DEAR JULIANA, 
 
 Will you oblii:'e me so far as to lend me the 
 memoirs of miss Elizabeth Smith. This 
 book is not in the library, which is the caiiso 
 of your receiving" (his little note of entreaty 
 from your admirer. 
 
 And affectionate friend, 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 To this an answer was returned, but by mistake addressed 
 to the daughter Martha, iitstond of the mother of the 
 same name, which occasioned the tbliowing note. 
 
 TO MISS HAZLEHURST. 
 
 I SHALL never aj;*ain beabte, mjdear Juli- 
 ana, to reproacli my daughter, M. H. L. U. 
 for writini;^ a careless note, and still more 
 careless hand, siiice her discriminating neigh- 
 bour has seen i(o diiference between her per- 
 formance and ri:ine, in either siy!e or pen- 
 manship. 
 
 From your favourable opinion of miss 
 Smith's Memoii's, I shall read the book with 
 a prepossession uufavosirable to impartial 
 judgment, so iinich am 1 inlluenced by the 
 opinion of those I esteem and love. 
 I am, dear Juliana, 
 
 Your affectionate 
 
 Martha, Senior, 
 
 V 
 
2.3.« 
 
 LETTER FROM" MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 TO MiSS IIAZLEHURST. 
 
 If, iny dear Juliana, the contents of the 
 annexed note, an acceptance on the part or 
 the Rev. Dr. Kollock, of an invitation to. 
 breakfast the next morning, joined to the 
 pleasure your company will give us, have 
 any weight with you, I request you will 
 brealifast with us. Dr. Kollock was the first 
 person wlio mentioned Elizabeth Smith to 
 us with tender encomium. You have known 
 how to appreciate her merit ; and I believe 
 so sincere has been your admiration of it, that 
 in the most valuable circumstances of her 
 life, you arc imitating her example. I hope 
 I shall feel that you are as obliging to those 
 you love, as she was, by your permitting me 
 to introduce a person on whom maternal care 
 has been so well bestowed, to a gentleman,. 
 (Dr. Kollock) so capable of valuing female 
 merit. 
 
 I remain your affectionate 
 
 Patty. 
 
 to miss hazlehurst. 
 
 DEAR JULIANA, 
 
 If you are not acquainted with bishop 
 Taylor's writings, I am persuaded you will' 
 iind many tbings in the book f Taylor's Holy 
 
TO ^^S5 -spaoAY. '^^^ 
 
 Living and Dying) wliich I send you, which 
 will be pleasing to your intelligent and pious 
 mind. The devotions for solemn festivals 
 are, I think, very pathetic, and shew him to 
 have been a man deeply exercised in religious 
 matters. If they contribute to edification or 
 consolation, I shall rejoice to have thought 
 of the book and of you at the same time. 
 From your affectionate friend, 
 Makth^l Laurens RamsaYo 
 
 ^9pril 12^ 18H. 
 
 Charleston, January 10, 1794. 
 
 MY DEAR HISS SPROAT, 
 
 The wish you express in Mrs. Keith's 
 letter, that I should write to you, is of that 
 nature, that I cannot refuse to comply with 
 it ; and were my ability to say any thing to 
 the purpose on the subject, equal to my feel- 
 ings and sympathy on the sad occasion of 
 your sorrows, I should not write in vain; but 
 alas, in such mournful seasons as you have 
 experienced, vain is the help of man. None, 
 but the hand whicli has smitten, can heal, 
 and God, that has cast down, can alene raise 
 and support the afflicted and dejected soul. 
 Yet I know it is our duty to weep wath those 
 that weep, and our privilege to draw nigh t# 
 
232 LETTER FROM MRS. RAIMSAY 
 
 the throne of Grace for olhers as ^veJ] as for 
 oiu'seives. 1 ]io|>e i have nol f^iiled in this 
 duJy, or in the exercise of tiiis privilege Avith 
 regard to your family. You have heen very 
 miu li in my tlnoughts and on my heart, and 
 by day, and by night, I have not ceased to 
 make mention of you in my prayers, that 
 God would he your refuge and strength, a 
 Tery present help in trouble. Perhaps we 
 never feel so is«uch of tlie goodness of God 
 as in times of dj-ep affliction, when they are 
 accooipanied by t?.at sanctifying grace, which 
 I trust has hud, and will continue to have its 
 operation under the great and repeated be- 
 reave Ttnts -which you have met with, and 
 are still lanienling. When the soul, with 
 deep humility af»d ^i^.cerily, is brought to 
 say, 1 will bear the indignation of the Lord, 
 because I have sinned against him, and to 
 lament that evil of its nature and those trans- 
 gressions of heart and life, which njake chas- 
 tiseojents necessary, either to call us to re- 
 pentance or to (piieken us in our way : Then 
 is the light <>f God's countenajice reisdy to 
 rise upon it, for he doth not afflict willingly 
 nor grieve the children of men, but sendeth 
 afilictions in mercy to his peop]e, that they 
 miay search and try their ways, and turn 
 again to (heir God. who is only waitint? for 
 tliis return to shov* them how aracMnis lie 
 i», and what tender compassions are found in 
 
TO MISS SPROAT. 
 
 233 
 
 bis heart. "When our earthly comforts fail, 
 then we feel the blessing of having a heavenly 
 and never failing friend, who is with us, and 
 watching over us at all times ; but whom we 
 are too apt to forget in what we call the day 
 of our prosperity, and never truly to turn to, 
 till repeated and sore disappointments have 
 taught us the vanity of all earthly expecta- 
 tions and created good. Then like the prodi- 
 gal, dissatisfied with our husks, and our far 
 and desolate country, we turn our faces Sion- 
 ward, we call upon God our Father, and de- 
 sire to be fed with that bread which cometh 
 ^own from Heaven ; and this is the Lord's op^ 
 portunity ; it is to bring us to this humility 
 of spirit, this brokenness of spirit, this fitness 
 to receive divine communications, that he 
 sends us those afflictive Providences, which 
 Corce our consciences to a stand, make us ex- 
 amine and try our ways, and lift our hearts 
 as well as our hands to God in the heavens. 
 Then it is that God makes us feel his all 
 sufficiency to support and comfort us ; to 
 bring good out of evil ; and by his divine 
 presence and consolations, makes up to us 
 all our earthly losses, and heals our bleeding 
 hearts ; and thus it is, dear miss Sproat, that 
 I hope you will be enabled to sing of mercy, 
 as well as judgment. Great have been your 
 
 trials, but great also, has been the admixture 
 r 2 
 
334 LETTER FROM MRS. KA:^.rSAY 
 
 of divine compassion. You liave good liope 
 through gi'iice, for ihe deiir friends, wIjo bjan 
 awful Providence hiive been taken from you, 
 tliat they are not lost, but gone before. Your 
 dear and honoured fat her particuiariy was ripe 
 for glory, and is gone to s'eeeive the reward of 
 liis pious labours. And in the iisidst of your 
 tears for yourself, your iieart should feel 
 some joy for your friends, that they have an 
 everlasting period put to all their sins, and 
 sorrows, and temptations here below, and 
 liave theii* souls full of holiness ; their hearts 
 filled with joy, and their mouths with the 
 everlasting |Ji".n«es of that fiod and Saviour, 
 who hath brought theni safeJytlirough their 
 pilgrimage and fixed them in the new Jeru- 
 salem beyond the fear of falling ; and now 
 what remains for us to do, but witii faith and 
 patience to follow those w ho are now inherit- 
 ing the promises. God gives us line upon 
 lisic, and precept upon precept, but perhaps 
 no precepts sink so deep in our hearts as 
 those, which come in the foVm of crosses. 
 We hear good sermons, we read good books, 
 but whole years of hearing and reading do 
 not teach us so much of the vanity of the 
 creature, and of our dependance on God, as 
 the running dry of one spring of earthly en- 
 joyment ; and we hardly ever feel this the 
 'wilderness world which, in reality, it is, till 
 soaic of our comforts fail or forsake us, and 
 
TO Miss SPROAT. 235 
 
 Ts'e begin one way or oilier to feel very miicli 
 alone in it ; then we turn to God, and desire 
 to iind in him that rest to our souls, which we 
 <»an Iind in nothing else. I am no novice, my 
 dear miss Sproat, in the school of affliction. 
 I have known outward trials and inward, 
 pangs ; and I pray the great Captain of our 
 salvation, wiio himself was a man of sorrow s 
 and acquainted with grief, to give us both 
 such a sanctified use of our respective cross- 
 es, that we may be the better for them in 
 lime, and praise him for them through all 
 oternity. 
 
 I trust tlie lieavy cioml of youi* bereaTe- 
 inents has burst with some blessings over ua 
 liere. Our wortliy Mr. Keith appears to 
 Jiave been affected and touched to very gocd 
 purpose : and has given us not a few sucla 
 sermons since the visitation on your city, 
 and tlie deaths in your family, as show his 
 mind to have been most piously exei*< ised, 
 and of which he Aviil see the blessed efiects, 
 when he comes to find out those perfectly in 
 lieaven, than he can or than it would be right 
 for him to know mi eartli, tlie souls wiiom 
 he has edified, strengtlicncd, and comforted 
 by his faithful labours among us. I have, 
 hy one circumstance or other been much less 
 with your dear sister than I could have wish- 
 ed; ])ut J am happy to say that God, i\\ whom 
 slie believed, huj graciously supported her 
 
■«^6 LETTER FROM JIRS. RAMSAY 
 
 under her pressures of mind, and great bodily 
 weakness ; and has enabled her to glorify 
 him by a calm, and christian resignation to 
 his will ; and I trust he will bring her out of 
 this furnace as gold seven times purified. 
 My dear miss Sproat, I pray God to bless 
 her and you, and the remaining branches of 
 your family ; and feel my heart particularly 
 drawn out for the little baby left in your 
 eare, tliat you may be a mutual blessing to 
 each other ; and I remain with great sympa- 
 thy and affection yours, 
 
 Martha Laurens Ramsay. 
 
 Charleston, September 13, 1796. 
 
 MY DEAR MISS SPaOAT, 
 
 I FEEL myself under the awful necessity of 
 being the bearer of heavy tidings to you ; 
 and I confess, that I shrink so much from 
 the task, that I have hardly resolution to 
 hold the pen. Nevertheless in cases of duty 
 we must not confer with flesh and blood, but 
 endeavour to act with firmness. Need I 
 keep your mind any longer in the anguish of 
 suspense. Our pious friend, your sister in 
 the flesh, our sister in Christ, our dear Mrs. 
 Keith, shall I say she is dead, or with more 
 ct^ristian propriety express myself by sayingr 
 
TD MISS SPROAT. 2^7 
 
 slie who has long lived the life of faiUi on 
 earth, now lives, as our hope and belief foi^- 
 hep in Jesus is, the life of vision and glory 
 in heaven. She who hut a few hours ago was 
 enihodied ii>llesh, troubled by sin, depressed 
 by M'eakness, is now a glorified spirit free 
 from sin, free from sorrow, and has forever 
 done with the evils of mortality ; it is so, in- 
 deed, my dear miss Sproat. At five o'clock 
 tliis morning, your dear sister bid farewell 
 to sin aiMl sorrow, after an illness (supposed 
 to be an affection of the liver) not deemed 
 dangerous till witiiin these eight days. Mr. 
 Keith and the little girl lately taken under 
 their protection had both been sick for some 
 time. Mrs. Keith was complaining, but not 
 enough to alarm her friends, till about the 
 lime I have mentioned above. From the day 
 she was thought seriously ill, she has de- 
 clined very rapidly, and for some part of this 
 time her ideas suffered considerable derange- 
 ment. Nevertheless she has given such testi- 
 monies of her confidence in God, of her trust 
 in. and dependance on her Saviour, even in 
 the dark valley of the shadow of death, as 
 are highly consolatory to us, who have wit- 
 nessed them. As long as she could speak, 
 slie spoke for Chnst, and when she had no 
 longer the power of utterance, with any de- 
 cree of ease, she gave signs of joy, and shoi-t 
 'anawers expressive that the promises which 
 
^/38 LEITER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 we whispered in her ear, were savingly, 
 preciously, comfortably applied to her heart. 
 And now my dear miss Sproat, what shall I 
 say to you? I feel disposed to say to you, ia 
 the midst of the sorrows of nature and the 
 bemoanings of sisterly affection, rejoice in 
 the Lord, and again I say rejoice. L^t the 
 thoughts of her bliss, of the glory with which 
 she is now surrounded, of which she is now 
 possessed, enable you not only to submit, but 
 even to rejoice in this tribulation ; and may 
 the Spirit of grace and consolation, bring 
 such promises and gospel supports to your 
 recollection, as may be suited to your case^ 
 and which? did I feel myself equal to the un- 
 dertaking, I could but suggest; he only could 
 apply. I should say something of our very 
 dear friend Mr. Keith. Oh he behaves un- 
 der this trial, like the affectionate friend, the 
 tender, bowed down, bereaved husband ; yet 
 like the exercised, the experienced, the es- 
 tablished christian. 1 trust he has learned 
 many an useful lesson from our departed 
 friend, and F hope he will now be enabled to 
 put them in practice. You will excuse me 
 from writing moi'e at length ; I feel myself 
 too much overcome to be able to do it. May 
 God support and comfort our dear Mr. Keith, 
 Mrs. Spencer, you, my dear Mi«s Sproat, 
 and all most intimately interested in the 
 dear deceased ; and sanctify this stroke of 
 
TO MISS M. E. L. PIKCKNEY. 2S9 
 
 liis providence to many in the congregation » 
 who have been ^vitnesses of hei* zeal and 
 sincerity in the service of our dear Lord and 
 Master ; that in addition to the s^ood she has 
 done, while living, she, though dead in the 
 flesh, yet living in our hearts, may still speak 
 to the glory of God, and the good of souls. 
 "With my sincere prayers for you, my deai^ 
 Miss Sproat, I remain with sympathizing rc~ 
 gard. 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 Martha Laurexs Ramsay. 
 
 TO MISS M. E. t. PIXCKNEY.^ 
 
 <* That it is better to go to the house of 
 mourning," is not only one of those assertions, 
 which, coming from the pen of inspiration, 
 we are bound humldy to receive as truth ,* but 
 I believe, dear Mary, the experience of eve- 
 ly feeling heart, which has gone on but a 
 moderate way in the Journey of life, will tes- 
 tify, that by the occasional sudsess of the 
 countenance, the heart is nrade better^ aiid 
 that sympathy with our fellow creatures is not 
 only grateful to them, but iisefnl to ourselvi's. 
 
 I went early into the garden to [)r('athe fiesh 
 air, and delight myself with the fair face of 
 
 * This note was not ivccivc'«i in season to be inserted in 
 the first edition ct" the&i.' memoirs. 
 
.210 
 
 LETTER FROW MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 nature, and to cut some sweet flowers for my 
 sweet Fail and you. None of your cousins 
 are yet stirring, and I thought I would write 
 a little note in their stead. The tone of my 
 mind has framed the style of my letter. We 
 are going this morning to attend the funeral 
 of our dear respected Mr. Coram; and this 
 evening or afternoon, our poor Jack will be 
 carried to his last earthly home. As we 
 ought to learn good from every thing, I hope 
 I shall profit by the lesson of to day, and not 
 only rejoice in the many sun shine days cf 
 my life, but to make a good use too of a cloudy 
 one. It seems a long time since I have seen 
 Fan and you. I think your cousins, as well 
 as myself, would be delighted if you were t& 
 come early and drink tea with them. Dar- 
 ling Sabina, with all her youthful spirits, has 
 shown so much feelin,^ for poor Mrs. Coram, 
 as makes me love her, and admire that sweci 
 elasticity of her virtuous mind, thus accom- 
 modating itself to passing circumstances. 
 more than I can express. 
 Adieu, dear girls, and 
 
 believe me tenderly yours, 
 
 M. L. Ram.^at. 
 
TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 
 
 241 
 
 EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS WRITTEN BY MRS. RAMSAY, 
 TO HER SON AT PRINCETON COLLEGE.* 
 
 FROM MARTHA LAURENS RAMSAY, TO DAVID RAM- 
 SAY, JUNIOR, AT PRINCETON COLLEGE. 
 
 Charleston, May 7, 1810. 
 
 The first thing I did when you left me, 
 dear David, was to retire for a few moments 
 to your chamber, and relieve my labouring 
 heart, by commending you solemnly and af- 
 fectionately to the good Providence of our 
 heavenly Father. I composed myself as soon 
 as possible, and set about my accustomed do- 
 mestic duties. Soon after Dr. Abcel came 
 in ; he passed a parting half hour with us, 
 and began his journey the same evening. I 
 should be glad that my wishes and my hopes 
 about the perfect recovery of this excellent 
 and interesting man, held at all equal pace. 
 But I confess that I wish more than I dare 
 hope. 
 
 SVhile I was in your chamber, I discover- 
 ed the little treatise (Dr. Waterhouse's lec- 
 ture to the students of the university of Cam- 
 bridge on smoking tobacco) which your fa- 
 ther had requested you to read, and which, 
 
 * Many of the same kind, written by her on a preced- 
 int^ similar occasion, were unfortunately destroyed in 178;^, 
 v'hen the College was burnt, 
 W 
 
242 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 in the main, 1 approve of so liiglily that I 
 have given away half a dozen to persons in 
 wliom I am mueh less interested than in you. 
 I sent it after you by Cooney, who says you 
 received it safely. I hope its contents will 
 not be lost upon you, nor the book itself lost 
 by you. While we were in church on Friday 
 afternoon, there came up a severe thunder- 
 storm ; and while Mr. Palmer was in the act 
 of praying for you and your fellow passen- 
 gers, the flashes of lightning and peals of 
 thunder added not a little to the solemn feel- 
 ing of many persons in the church, interest- 
 od most tenderly in the fate of the mixed 
 multitude on board the Pennsylvania. 
 
 I shall be counting the days till I hear 
 from you. It will be no disappointment to 
 me, or rather it will give me no pain to learn 
 that you have not entered the iunior class : 
 to whatever class you belong, do your duty 
 in it. Be respectful to your superiors, live 
 affectionately with your equals ; make your- 
 self a party in no broils ; but mind your own 
 business ; give dignity to the Carolinian 
 name ; write to me accurately on every sub- 
 ject which concerns you. Be not ashamed 
 of religion; read your Bible diligently; it 
 will not only make you wise unto salvation, 
 but you will find in it excellent directions for 
 your conduct in the affairs of this life. Youv 
 grandfather, Laurens^ used to say, if men 
 
UO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 2^ 
 
 uiadc a good use of only the book of Prov- 
 erbs, there would be no bankruptcies, no 
 failures in trade; no family dissentions; 
 none of those wide spreading evils which, 
 from the careless conduct of men in the com- 
 mon eoncenis of life, desolate human society ; 
 and I can assure you, the more you read this 
 divine book, the more you will love and value 
 it. I long to hear from you, and with ten- 
 der affection subscribe myself, your friend 
 and mother. 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 PROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 May 14, I81(i. 
 
 I NOW write to you, dear David, to thank 
 you for your letter from on board ship, which 
 I received the day before yesterday ; and 
 which was highly acceptable both to your 
 fattier and myself. 
 
 If your father and I were not very loving 
 and \Qvy industrious people, we should feel 
 very solitary at present. John, David, and 
 James at a distance; the rest out of hearing; 
 and all the young ones away. These cir- 
 cumstances make a great change in our 
 household, and one which needs both love 
 and labour to make it tolerable. There is 
 
'::44 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 now no polite attention at tJie long table in 
 wait till a servant is disengaged. Even slow- 
 paced Jack is more than we want at our less- 
 ened board. I now long very much to hear 
 from you ; it seems to me a great while 
 since we parted ; and if you knew the de- 
 light your siiip-letterhad given your parents 
 as a mark of attention, affection and home 
 love, I am snre it would make your heart 
 happy. My anxiety that you should behave 
 well, and make the very best use of your 
 collegiate opportunities is very great. But 
 I thank God, I feel much of the cheerfulness 
 of hope. I know you have good abilities, 
 quick apprehension : I trust you will not be 
 indolent, and that a manly shame (to be 
 ashamed to do wrong is a manly feeling,) 
 will prevent your adding yourself to the 
 list of the Carolina triflers, whose conduct 
 has brought a college, such as Princeton, in- 
 to disrepute. I hope you will feel a lauda- 
 ble pride in inheriting your father's literary 
 reputation in the college where he received 
 an education, of which he has made so excel- 
 lent an use ; yet an education mucli below 
 what you may receive at the same institu- 
 tion, from the great improvements made in 
 every branch of science since his time. 
 I hope absence wont weaken your affection. 
 Continue to love us ; the more you love your 
 father and mother, the more you endeavour 
 
TO HER SON AOP COLLEGE. -4'5 
 
 to oblige Iheiu, tlie wiser, the better, the hap- 
 pier \ou will be ; and at some future period, 
 ■when standing in the relation of a parent 
 yourself, you will have sensations unknown 
 to all but parents ; the consciousness of hav- 
 ing been a good son, will fill you witli inex- 
 pressible delight. God bless you, my dear 
 son; your father joins in love to you, with 
 your faithful friend and mother, 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 June 13, 181Q. 
 
 An open candid disposition endears a 
 young person much to his friends, and must 
 make him ver^ comfortable to liimself. That 
 sort of reserve, which arises from a concious- 
 ness of having wasted the time which ought 
 to have been devoted to study, and being con- 
 sequently unprepared for answering an^ ques- 
 tions proposed ; or froni a sullen unyielding 
 temper, which shrinks from investigation, 
 except when proceeding from tutors and mas- 
 ters it cannot be avoided, is a reserve so un- 
 lovely that I witness it with pain, and I do most 
 earnestly beseech you to strive against such 
 a temper, which if unresisted and unsubdued, 
 "will show itself on a thousand occasjoas be- 
 
 W3 
 
'Ii6 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAT 1 
 
 sides that specified above. Even an incor- 
 rect answer, if given in an amiable tone of 
 voice, indicating a desire to be set right, if 
 found in erior, is preferable to silence, or to 
 an unwilling reply, even if a correct one. 
 God has given you an excellent understand- 
 ing. Oh, make use of it for wise purposes ; 
 acknowledge it as his gift ; and let it regu- 
 late your conduct and harmoiiize your pas- 
 sions. Be industrious , be amiable. Every 
 act of self-denial will bring its own reward 
 with it, and make the next step in duty and 
 in virtue easier and more pleasant than the 
 former. 
 
 1 am glad you like your room-mate. I 
 hope he is one who will set you no bad exam- 
 ple, and with w horn you may enjoy yourself 
 pleasantly and innocently. I delight to hear 
 every thing about yon, and you can have 
 neither pleasure nor pain jn wliieh I do not 
 sincerely and affectionately participate, 
 
 Eleanor and I drank tea witli aunt Lau- 
 rens last evening. Frederick, fourteen days 
 younger than William, was learning Fructus 
 and Cornu, with such earnestness, in order 
 to be ready for Mr. Moore against the next 
 day, that I could hardly believe it was my 
 wild nephew. Mild John was in a corner 
 smiling, and helping Frederick whenever he 
 seemed to be at a loss. 
 
 The girls all send their love to you ; so do 
 parnoble your good friend and sister desires 
 
TO HER SON AT COLLEGB. 247 
 
 not to be forgotten. Mrs. Coram is constant 
 in her inquiries after you; so are many other 
 friends. It is a charming thing to be belov- 
 ed. God bless you, my very dear child ; may 
 he watch ovei* your youth, and keep you from 
 shame. 1 embrace you with an overflowing 
 tide of affection. 
 
 Martha Laurens Ramsay* 
 
 •£R0M THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 .Ml/ 18, 1810. 
 
 From the tenor of your last letter, it may 
 be fairly inferred that you are dissatisfied 
 with the stiictnoss of a collegiate course; 
 and if you should not go through a collegiate 
 course, what then ? Can you go througli any 
 virtuous course without economy, industry 
 and seifdenial ? Can you fit yourself for use- 
 fulness on earth, or happiness in heaven, in 
 any other way than doing your duty in the 
 station in which God has placed you ? And 
 U your cliief ambition is, without caring 
 "whether you are as wise or good, to wiiili at 
 least to be richer than your father and mother, 
 will not a diligent attention to collegiate 
 studies and duties be the readiest method to 
 fit you for such eminence in whatever pro- 
 &ssion you choose, as shall cuable you to 
 
248 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAl 
 
 attain this golden treasure. I assure you, 
 many young men with less means than you 
 have, or are likely to have, for nothing really 
 necessary or comlbrtahle, I trust in Provi- 
 dence, shall he wanting to you, have felt it a 
 great privilege to go through a collegiate 
 course, and have afterward come to he emi- 
 nent, respectable, and wealthy. 
 
 I would never wish my judgment to be 
 ■^varped by my feelings, especially by offend- 
 ed feelings, to do any thing harsh. I would 
 rather even have it blinded by such affection 
 for my dear children, as would make my 
 tenderness overstep perhaps the exact bound 
 of maternal prudence ; both extremes would 
 be best avoided. ** Give me thine heart my 
 son," is the language of scripture ; and where 
 there is any heart wortli giving or worth 
 having, I believe it is seldom refused to the 
 authors of our being, the protectors of our 
 infancy ; to the father, whose fond ambition 
 it is to see his son distinguished in life ; the 
 Mother, who, with a throbbing heart and 
 moistened eye, is continually addressing the 
 throne of heaven for the welfare of her dear 
 child ; and to the sisters, ever ready to re- 
 ciprocate the tender charities of domestic 
 endearment, and ever cheerfully sacrificing 
 something of their own convenience for the 
 advancement of their brothers. I pray God 
 to bless you, ai^d to give you grace to make 
 
•04.9 
 TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 
 
 a ffood use of an uncierstanding, which I am 
 mvc you possess, to give a right bias to ener- 
 gies and sensibilities, wlneh, wrongly direct- 
 ed will make you foolish and miserable. 
 With sincere prayers for your improvement 
 in wisdom and virtue, wishing you an affec- 
 tionate heart and industrious hahits, I re- 
 main your faithful friend, your tender moth^ 
 ^,, ^ M. L. Ramsay, 
 
 FROM THE fiAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 August 26, 181G. 
 
 DEAR DAVID, 
 
 I 4M at present undergoing a very severe 
 affliction, and have for a fortnight past been 
 so much occupied and agitated, that I have 
 let one post after another pass without writ- 
 in"" to you. You know however all my mmd 
 toward you ; have my precepts and opinion 
 upon every subject which can materially in- 
 terest you ; and whether I write or am silent, 
 my maternal love, my temler anxiety for my 
 son, for my dear husband's namesake, can 
 never be for one moment a matter of doubt 
 to you. Your sister. INliss Futerell, expects 
 to embark for Liverpool, on her way to Lon- 
 don, the day after tomorrow. Business ol 
 importance, and tlic desire of being with \m 
 
-3* LETTER FROM MRS. RAMS At 
 
 mother, become aged and infirm, is the cause 
 of her vojage. She has been attempting a 
 return to England for many months; but 
 the obstructions to an intercourse between 
 that country and ours made it impossible to 
 get a passage, but by some very roundabout 
 way. Your father is more affected on this 
 occasion than it is common for men to mani- 
 fest. With regard to myself and your sisters, 
 need I describe our situation ? Miss Futerell 
 is bowed down with grief at our separation ; 
 and I think this is a grief in which you will, 
 to a certain degree, participate; she loves 
 you with a very warm affection, and enter- 
 tains such an opinion of your heart and un- 
 derstanding, that she is often saying. I expect 
 great things from David; she will hardly 
 ever allow me even to express a fear of your 
 doing ill ; and declares, however such fears 
 may intrude on the heart of a mother, and 
 especially of a Carolinian mother, I have no 
 cause for it. Yesterday she said to me, « I 
 am going to leave you, and it is mournful to 
 me to leave you burdened with care on so 
 many accounts ; but keep up your spirits ; 
 repose your hope in God ; parJicularly, don't 
 be uneasy about David ; he will do well. Ex- 
 hort him to be industrious ; not to be con- 
 tented with low attainments, and all will be 
 well ; much good seed has been sown by you; 
 and I think it has fallen on good ground. He 
 
XO HER ^ON AT COLLEGE. 2,5 I 
 
 knows the truth ; he has iuibihed sound prin- 
 ciples ; from time to time, in his life, he has 
 thought very seriously ; he will do you no 
 discredit; and he will become a valuable 
 member of society." I pray God, my dear 
 son, her predictions may be true ; she has 
 always been a kind friend and adviser to you 
 and to your brothers and sisters ; and is, I 
 believe, as deeply interested for you all as it 
 is possible for any but a mothep to be. 1 
 hope you will now recollect all her admo- 
 nitions of love, and prolit by them. If you 
 were a little older, had well profited by yout 
 education, and we could meet the expense, I 
 should have no objection to your accompany- 
 ing this dear friend; and while she was trans- 
 acting her business, ihat you should be tak- 
 ing, before you settled down in life, a survey 
 of that woi'ld of wonders, London. 
 
 Your vacation is now at no great distance* 
 I hope you are not trifling away this prime 
 of your days, content with such attainments 
 as will excuse you from censure ; but emulous 
 of ranking with the most studious, most pru- 
 dent, and most virtuous of your companions. 
 I wish I could inspire you with a laudable 
 ambition, and with feelings that would make 
 you avoid any unnecessary intercourse with 
 the bucks, the fops, the idlers of college j 
 and think that the true intention of going to 
 a seminary of learning is to attain scienee^ 
 
352 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 and fit you liereafter* to rank among men of 
 literary and public consequence. Our inten- 
 tion is that you shall spend the vacation with 
 your uncle in Baltimore. You will be at 
 Philadelphia in passing. You will be kindly 
 treated by your uncle and his family, and 
 you will find enough (o amuse you in Balti- 
 more, which is said to be the third city in 
 the United States. At some future opportu- 
 nity you may visit New York and Boston. 
 But in order to accomplish all, or any of 
 these purposes, you must be frugal, and not 
 atteoipt to vie in wasting money with the 
 sons of rich planters, who only go to college 
 for fashion's sake, and whose lives are as 
 useless as their expenses. Your father is 
 absent on a visit to Mr. Todd, and from the 
 message brought, I fear his visit will be too 
 late to be of any avail. It will be an ad- 
 ditional grief to Miss Futerell to leave Mrs. 
 Todd under affliction, and a heavy affliction 
 to Mrs. Todd to part with such a friend at 
 such a time. 
 
 Witli all a mother's heart, 
 
 I remain, dear David, yours, 
 
 *M. L. R. 
 
TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 253 
 
 niOM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 September U, 1810. 
 
 DEAR DAVID, 
 
 I WROTE to you not long ago, telling you 
 of tlie depart ui'e of my dear Miss Futeiell. 
 Her absence makes every tiling desolate to 
 me. and your sisters more than sympathize 
 with me. for in addition to mine they feel 
 their own sorrow. I have in them, however, 
 tiiis consoIaJion, tliat by ever^ act of tiieir 
 lives, they sliow how much they have profit- 
 ed by her adviee and example ; never were 
 parents more blessed than your father and I 
 in daughters; and 1 hope God will return 
 seventy fold into tlieir bosoms, tlie comfort, 
 thev eive to ours. Your time of vacation is 
 drawing on. I trust you are not losing your 
 tiine for study, and that as you grow older, 
 you arc resisting every proj)ensity to idleness 
 or folly of any kind. Youi* judgment mu*t 
 he well informed. You have lived from in- 
 fancy within the sound of good advice ; and 
 although some dispositions are restive under 
 any advice tliat clashes with their present 
 gratification, I flatter myself, you have a 
 more ingenuous disposition, and that no effort 
 on tlie part of your parents and fiie ds, to 
 make you wiser, and better, will fjjially be 
 lost upon Tou. 
 X 
 
254 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 Could you know my anxiety about you, ib 
 dependently of nobler motives, I think, even 
 a spirit of compassion for an affiieted friend,^ 
 would make vou conduct yourself wisely, iti 
 the course of a life, not yet very long, I have 
 seen many younj^ persons, with e\er^ possi- 
 ble advantag:e (or cultivating their talents, 
 improving their minds, and becoming estimar^ 
 ble members of society, lost to themselves, a 
 disgrace to their friends, pliigues to society, 
 or mere cyphers in it, from indolence, a slight 
 manner of pursuing their studies, smoking, 
 drinking, an excessive love of finery, of tri- 
 fling company, or some similar evil indulged 
 in, between the age of fifteen and twenty. Oh,^ 
 how I shudder, and what a death like faint- 
 ness and oppression seizes my poor heart, at 
 the thoughts of how I stand in the persons of 
 sons exposed to such a calamity. With bend- 
 ed knees, and streaming eyes, I pray my God, 
 send me help, and ward oflTsuch a stroke. I 
 have also seen those who with very scanty 
 means, and almost under every possible dis- 
 advantage* have, under the smiles of heaven, 
 been^ friemis, money, advice to themselves, 
 and have risen to shine as lights in the world. 
 Others again, I have seen, who not having to 
 struggle like these last, constantly against 
 wind and tide, and supported only by their 
 own efforts, but situated like yourself under 
 happier circumstances^ have repaid the la« 
 
TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 
 
 255 
 
 bours of a father, and lite tender exertions 
 of a mother, hy doing' their part well, and re- 
 turning home from their different seminaries 
 of education, just sueh as their parents could 
 wisli. Oh ! my God, grant that this may be 
 the case with us ; preserve David from every 
 evil way ; give him grace to make a good use 
 of the powers thou hast given him ; and let 
 liim not waste the morning of his days in any 
 trifling pursuit, or disgrace it by any thing 
 vicious or ignoble. 
 
 Dr. Keith gave us, yesterday, an excel- 
 lent sermon on these words ; " Who can 
 understand his errors ^ Cleanse tliou me 
 from secret faults." We ouglit, dear child, 
 to take great pains to understand our errors, 
 W^e have every one, by nature, some secret 
 error, some constitutional defeat or vice. 
 In childhood, the advice or autiiority of 
 parents may restrain it; still it is there ; as 
 Vc g!*ow older, we must watch for ourselves, 
 restrain ourselves, look up to God for help, 
 wliile we exercise such acts of self denial, as 
 sliall break the bias, and keep it from pro- 
 ducing a vicious habit, which, alas, may be- 
 come too strong for us, and be our curse and 
 our master as long as we live. Persons, about 
 your time of life, are apt to think themselves 
 very wise ; and io pay very slender attention 
 to the advioe of their superiors ; this is a 
 very ^reat error: as bv such conduct, they 
 
 X 2 " 
 
^56 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAt 
 
 not only deprive themselves of (he experience 
 of those older and wiser than themselves, hat 
 they appear, and really are very unlovely in 
 their tempers, to those who reprove or advise 
 them, xyhether parents or otliers. At your 
 time of life every false appearance of pleasure 
 is taken for a reality, and the restraints of 
 tIs tuoiis industi'y and hard study a hurden 
 too heavy to he home. May God i^ive you 
 wisdom to understand your errors, and a man- 
 ly resolution Jo resist every temptation to evil, 
 make you lov<dy in your temper, dilii^ent in 
 the pursuits of useful science, and enahle you, 
 by conciliatory and en.2;aging manners, to 
 make friends to yourself among the wise and 
 good wherever you go. 
 
 J will do all in my power for my dear chil- 
 dren, and must then leave the e\ent to God 
 and their own exertions, I hope they will 
 reap the benefit of my labours, when I shall 
 be quietly restinj? from them. I hope you will 
 always look on Dr. Smith, not only as pres- 
 ident of the college, but as a very dear friend 
 of your mother, and so accustomed to youth 
 as to know every twistinj^ and turning of their 
 hearts, and capable of giving them the best 
 advice. When you go to your uncle's, tell 
 me all about them ; you know they are stran- 
 gers to me. though relations, except himself, 
 and from your uncle 1 received such bi'other- 
 ly affection, as entirely gained my heart. 
 
IX) HER SON AT COLLEGE. 257 
 
 Dr. Waddol has much trouble from the 
 increased number of liis town boys ; llic 
 Charltstonians carrj their idleness, their im- 
 patience orcontroul. their extra vaj^anee, their 
 self consequence with them wherever they 
 go, and ev4 n the best of them are, in general, 
 far inferior to what, with their quicii capac- 
 ities, and lively imaginations, tliey might be. 
 if they would make the virtuous endeavour. 
 I remain, with great affection, 
 Your friend and mother, 
 
 Mahtha Laurens Ramsay. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SA^IE. 
 
 J\'ovember 7, 1810. 
 
 UEAU DAVID, 
 
 Tlie number of my letters should be no 
 rule for ^ou : vou know well the stato of nsv 
 health, and of mv affairs, and that everv let- 
 ter I writ<* is in the time stolen from sleep 
 or business, for my eyes do not permit my 
 writing in the evening, my only season of 
 leisure. Since your sister's departure, I have 
 still more to do with less spirits for perform- 
 ance ; and during the last month every house- 
 keeper in the interior of the city has been 
 kept la a state of alarm, from the dread of 
 
 X3 
 
25S tETTEH PROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 iire, increased by the dry state of every thing 
 about us, fVom the long want of rain, sur- 
 rounded, as we have been by danger, I thank 
 God we are yet safe. I hope you are doing 
 yourself credit, and preparing yourself for 
 future usefulness in life. I feel a deep and a 
 gnawing anxiety about you ; sixteen, seven- 
 teen, eighteen ! ah, what important years are 
 they in a young man's life ; how unformed is his 
 judgment ! How false his views of most things! 
 What, but heavenly guidance, can steer him 
 safely through the perils to which he is ex- 
 posed from within and without, and yet 
 wliat an age of confidence, of self conceit. 
 How seldom is the eye turned to Heaven, or 
 the ear open to the admonitions of expei^ience, 
 wisdom, or fiiendship? even the remonstran- 
 ces of science, the reproofs of paternal au- 
 thority, the counsels and entreaties of mater- 
 nal tenderness, are scarcely heard amidst the 
 turbulence of youthful passions, and incite- 
 ments to irregularities. 
 
 My tears flow, and my heart aches, while, 
 with tlie mingled emotions of hope and fear 
 for you, I thus pour forth its sensations. You 
 are now far from me ,* I can no longer direct 
 your individual actions ; I can only give you 
 good advice in general, and pray to God for 
 you. One great guard of youthful virtue is 
 industry. Be then industrious, and employ 
 
ro HER SON AT COLI.EGli, 2 5 'J 
 
 every moment of your lime to some valiraWe 
 purpose. I loDg to hear from yoii. 
 I am with sincere affection, 
 Your friend and mother, 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 FEOM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 JVovemher 21, 1810. 
 
 DEAR DAVID, 
 
 I AM filled Avith exlreme anxiety by your 
 long silence; it is very mortifying to a parent, 
 so tenderly attached to a child as I am to 
 you, to think that, in the leisure of a whole 
 vacation, you Jiave written but once. I have 
 only heard of you, if I may so express my- 
 self, negatively. Your cousins, Charlotte 
 and Sophia, who have written to Kitty and 
 Sabina, express their regrets, and those of 
 their parents, that you are not with them, 
 nor from the advanced state of the vacation, 
 likely to be so. 
 
 I feel a stronger wish than I have a hope, 
 that I may have been deceived in the opinion 
 which you know I have often delivered to 
 your father, that a boy of fifteen had better 
 be at a grammar-school, than among juniors 
 at college ; and when he declares that with 
 
 X4 
 
260 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 your good sense, your knowledge of your situ- 
 ation, as one ©f a large and not rich family, 
 and tlie nccessily of your own exertions to 
 enable you to maintain an honourable stand- 
 ing in society, he feels confident you will 
 never act materially wrong ; I e^ only re- 
 ply, I pray God you may be right. I shall 
 rejoice in having judged erroneously ; but 
 when a boy does not write fully, freely, and 
 frequently to his father and mother, the poor 
 mother's heart, cannot help feeling a trem- 
 bling anxiety, that all is not right with her 
 son. 
 
 Your time for improvement will be quicks 
 ly past; if it is not improved, you will find 
 yourself grown up with the pride of what 
 you civil a gentleman ; you will have no pat- 
 rimony to lean upon ; your natural talents 
 will be of comparatively little consequence 
 to you, and you will have no talents so culti- 
 vated and ready to be bi^uglit into action as 
 to make you capable of building up a fortune 
 for yourself; and of all the mean objects in 
 creation a lazy, poor, proud gentleman, es- 
 pecially if he is a drcs&y fellow, is the mean- 
 est ; and jH this is generally the character 
 of young men tif good family, and slender 
 fortunes, unless they take an early turn to 
 learning and science. I could wish to write 
 you many iiUlc local and domestic matters of 
 
^'0 HER SON AT C0LLE6E. 2^ 1 
 
 news or amusements, but terrified as I am 
 by bearing notbing of you, nothing from you, 
 and interpreting tliis, no netos from a cher- 
 ished son, as bad news, my mind is quite out 
 4)f tune for any thing of the lighter Ivind. I 
 was so much attached to my father, and to 
 the uncle and aunt who brought me up, that 
 I lived in the habit of the greatest intimacy 
 with them ; your sisters can hardly enjoy a 
 girlish note or a party of pleasure unless 
 mamma shares in it, or knows all about it ; 
 and this is so generally the case with vir- 
 tuous and affectionate children, that wher- 
 ever there is silence, I dread lest there should 
 he also mystery. I shall rejoice to find it 
 otherwise in your case ; and longing to hear 
 from you, and committing the guidance of 
 your youthful steps to that God, to whom I 
 |»ray for you by day and by night, 
 I remain, dear child, 
 Your most affectionate friend and mother, 
 Maktha Lauren s Ramsay. 
 
 TROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 March 5, 1810. 
 
 Your letter of November 19, contains this 
 sentiment ; ♦' A coUegiate course is not very 
 
252- LETTER FROINI MRS. RAMSA\ 
 
 necessary to eminence in a profession." CoH- 
 trast this with the following extract from a 
 letter, dated 
 
 " Willington, June 30, ISOT". 
 
 *« I WOULD not omit going to college upon 
 any consideration, for I believe it is very 
 difficult for a young man, who has not had a 
 collegiate education, to get into an extensive 
 practice of any profession." Contrast *• the 
 necessity of spending much money in order 
 to maintain as genteel a standing in college 
 as is necessary to be respected," with " dear 
 mother, 1 am now a very reputable member 
 of society, I am made very much of by Dr. 
 Waddel, and am beloved and respected by all 
 tht; good boys in the school." 
 
 You stated some time ago that, — • had 
 four hundred dollars a year ; wc know that 
 from his mother, who said this covered every 
 expense ; you have received money in the 
 same proportion, and rather more. You n#w 
 talk of spending one hundred dollars for 
 clothes. Your wardrobe must be unnecessari- 
 ly costly or miserably laid in, and you know 
 that yon have no ])retensions to waste from 
 the idea that it will not be felt by your par- 
 ents ; you are well aware that it is with much 
 exertion we provide what is comfortable, 
 and have no money to throw away. What 
 
TO HER SON Al' COLLEGE- 
 
 263 
 
 a weak mind you nuisil have, and hov/ much 
 have 1 been deceived in its texture, il* you 
 suppose thai foppish clothes and ibolish ex- 
 penses, OP what you call ** a genteel appear- 
 aiMje" will make you respectable. 
 
 1 feel more pride, moic consciousness of 
 being a lady, by having G\evy thing about my 
 person, the persons of my ci»ildren, my house- 
 hold, in the plainest style of decency, than I 
 possibly could by endeavouring to cover our 
 moderate circumstancos by a tinsel veil of 
 finery, which would deceive no one, and only 
 show the shallowness of my understanding. 
 
 With prudence, one hundred dolhirs will 
 go a great way ; without it, ten times the 
 sum will be like water put into a sieve. A 
 gentleman lately returned a graduate from 
 Cambridge, informs me he never spent three 
 hundred dollars a \ear a( college. A lad, son 
 to perhaps the richest parents in Carolina, 
 with only one brother to divide the inherit- 
 ance, wrote to request his mother, that let 
 him solicit ever so earnest ly, his pare. its 
 would never furnish him with nmre tlian 
 five hundred dollars ; for that sum would en- 
 able him to do many foolish and mani gene- 
 rous things, and all beyoiid it would be 
 shameful dissii)ation, to which he knew he 
 was too much disposed, and ilierefsre re- 
 quested temptation might not be administer- 
 ed to him. 
 
^64 
 
 LETTER FROM MRS. RAlVfSAY 
 
 Mr. T. S. Giimke assured me, (hat mih 
 
 l^evv Mavta, ami pui-eliase inativ books • hnf 
 why umtiply exa,..ples. The Jearexp'eS"^ 
 ot hoarding and tuition in colleges is a matter 
 well known ft.„=„ printed statements -kTs 
 easy, therefore, to calculate what beyond I't 
 IS necessary for the clothing, pocket money 
 
 not go to college to be a fashionist, to sport 
 IZr *f ""^''' f ^PP''"^!' t° ^""kft* 
 tl.vV '^""^'^'^^•IS'', and to attain suclt lite- 
 
 fS.?""TT "' "'^y '«' «'« f«tmdation of 
 future usefulness, a fortune to him. With 
 regaiHl to your spending a couple of succeed- 
 ing years m Charlestor., I will oppose all nt 
 
 ra liei spend them m the Indian country, 
 an learn he rugged virtues of savages, tha^^ 
 to, r'fl"' ."'■^''"^^'P''"^'' '"»Wts of Charles 
 Ziitl f" ".'^'""" ^'*>"'" last letter was 
 written under the transient impression of 
 some juvenile folly, which is already d"ss° 
 pa ed and that your next letter will he more 
 JuJicmus, better reasoned, and in everyre! 
 spect more worthy yourself. I feel deeply 
 
 Sr«f n"V''- ; ^'""- -""S silence, the 
 siJcnce of Ur. Smith, after having been mv 
 co.n.esp,„K).„, lor so many years, all pen.Iex 
 
TO HER SON AT COLLEGE. 
 
 26$ 
 
 mc. I cast vou and all my cares on God ; 
 praying liim to give you wisdom, and to 
 grant me support in every event. Pause, 
 and consider what you are about ; a few 
 wrong steps are easier trodden back tlian 
 many. IMay God take care of you. 
 Your atfectionate mother, 
 
 M. L. Rams Ay. 
 
 PROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 Jlarch 11, 181 i. 
 
 DEAR CHILD, 
 
 Your last letter was yvritten in a strain of 
 affection and good resolution, whicli gave 
 me great pleasure ; and I hoped would have 
 been followed up by more such. I have 
 been confined for upwards of a month, by in- 
 disposition, and have only left my house 
 within ten days to attend your ^mcle's sick 
 room. 
 
 It has been almost impossible to collect 
 money, and with great difficulty your father 
 has procured such a fifty dollar bill, as will 
 pass in the northern states, which I now 
 send. For the present, I avoid all remark, 
 advice, or other matter ; for it is so near 
 closing of the post, that I feai* losing the op* 
 
- ^6 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, &e. 
 
 portunity. May God bless you, my dear son, 
 and make you a son of comfort and lionour 
 toyour dear fa( her, and your most affection- 
 ate mother and friend, 
 
 Martha Laurens Ramsay. 
 
 If any should oLject to the propriety of publisliins; these 
 private coiifidentiitl domestic letters, tlie editor apologizes 
 Ly observing, that the importance of their contents, as 
 cautions to yonth, remote from their parents at seminaries 
 of learning, and t;iso to parents as models for corresponding 
 Avith their absent sons, and discountenancing their juvenile 
 follies, outweighs, in his opinion, all minor considerations. 
 
 Injustice to the yonth, to wliom these letters were ad- 
 dressed, it is declared, that he has never incurred any col- 
 lege censure, nor has he ever been charged Avilh any im- 
 moral conduct; that his standing in his class was always, 
 and now Is reputable, and his prospect fair for obtaining 
 the degree of A. B. before his eighteenth year is com- 
 pleted ; and that the friendly monitions of his mother were 
 not so much reproofs for what had taken place, as pro- 
 visional guards against what might take place in future ; 
 and that there is good reason to believe that these letters, 
 in concurrence with other moral causes, have had the de- 
 sired effect of confirming him in the steady pursuit of 
 knowledge and virtue. 
 
 The letters were, at the request of the editor, to whom 
 their contents were unknown, promptly sent to him from 
 Princeton in July 1811, though the intention of ]uU)lishing 
 ihem was communicated in the same letter, which asked 
 for their transnaission. Editor. 
 

 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY, ik.c. 267 
 
 Mrs Ramsav's sister, Mary Eieunor Pinckney, departed 
 this life in 1794, and in the 2.)th \env of her age, htaving 
 two dau,^hters and a son. These naturally excited the 
 teiKJerest fee'.inf^s of their affectionate aunt. As t.liey 
 grew lip, an interchange of kind offices almost daily pass- 
 ed between them To accommodate to her yonng friends, 
 their aunt laid aside the superiority, which age and rela- 
 tionship gave her, and, placing her neices on the footing 
 of daiigliters, mingled souls with then^-. as eOjUal friends, 
 and exchanged notes with them, which were frequently 
 ■written with a ]>encil, and most of them without dates. 
 From these the following are selected, as a specimen of 
 the playfulness of her imagination, and an evidence of the 
 overflowings of her love, wishing to impart cheerfulness 
 and communicate happiness to all around her. 
 
 TO FRANCES HENRIETTA PINCKNEY. 
 
 Yon shall not be jealous, Dear Fan, about not receiving a 
 letter from me, after such a sweet, feeling note, as you have 
 written me. ' herish, my dailing niece, these warm sensibili- 
 ties for \ our fellow cieatures, and notwithstanding the various 
 ills tiiat "flesh is heir to," they will yield you more pleas- 
 tire in gf)ing through life, than ever tliey will produce you 
 un mingled \)%\n. 5 am really proud of vour note, and think 
 how hapi)y I am in daughters both at home and a little way 
 o{f. I feei less grieved that you do not flatter me with the 
 hr)]ies of a visit this evening, as Eleanor and Patty are going 
 to Mrs Jones's, and will. I dare say. make you a fly, or per- 
 haps, a iongteizing nuisqnito of a visit. Well I do love Sun- 
 day on many accounts: and as William, in the anticipation of 
 his pocket money, often says to me, when will Saturday 
 come ? So I, besides rejoicing in the religious blessings of 
 the Sunday, often say. when will Sunday come r that I may 
 he sure of >ny Meeting strcet'M-s. <iof)(l bye, dear Fan, tell 
 Mai'y to turn that naughty cold out of doors, or I won't 
 send her any flowers for her bow pot, for I shall be afraid, 
 thai snjelling those sweet roses too much has hurt her deli- 
 cate nerves, and made her fee! as if she had a cold, 
 from your aftectionate, 
 
 ;M. L. IIamsa V, 
 
 I 
 
26S 
 
 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY 
 
 i 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 1 rej;Tet, clear Fan, that you should think it late, when 
 you left us, if it implies that you found the evening tedious. 
 I was in hopes you had been amused in. your corner, as we 
 were in ours, and I believe on our side the chimney, we 
 felt sorr} for the signal of ' more house.' I have just dis- 
 missed my scholars, and feel a little like a tired old school- 
 master, so you must excuse this short note. I hear Patty 
 capering about in the heighday of youth and freedom from 
 care, so I refer you to her for something amusing, and con- 
 clude with my love to dear Frances and Mary. 
 From their friend and affectionate 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 TO MARY ELEANOR LAURENS PINCKNEY. 
 
 Pray, dear Mary, put the two sprigs of mignonette in a 
 \vine glass full of water by themselves, and place them near 
 you, that when the gentle zephyr wafts their fragrance to 
 your delighted sense, you may think of your flower lo\ing, 
 and neice loving M. L, Ramsay*" 
 
 TO r. H. PINCKNEY. 
 
 liEAK FA^', 
 
 Patty requests I will tell you she is so busy planting a 
 tree, she cannot answer your note any other way, than by 
 making me a pat's paw. I shall be very much mortified, if 
 you do not drink tea with me this evening. It is t)y no 
 means coid ; and if you wish that sweet bloom to continue 
 On your cheeks, you must let it sometimes meet the whole- 
 some breeze. My love to Mary, and longing to see you 
 both, I remain, dear girls, your attached and affectionate 
 
 M. L. llAMSAV. 
 
TO MISS F. ir. PIXCKNEY. 
 
 !&f 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 How comes it, dear Fan, that you cannot oblige jour 
 Cousins by joining iheir party tomorrow evening ? ['ally's 
 face is so much lengthened since she received your note, 
 that she looks a proper lady Doleful ; lest therefore ue 
 shouTd think you mean to monopolize the beauty of the 
 family to yourself, let your compliance v ith your coubins' 
 ■wishes, dispense some portion of smiles and good looks 
 among them. 
 
 Yours with great love, 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
 FROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 DEAR FAN, 
 
 Mr. Ogilvie called, in /)?'0y"^n'fl^f?"so7?o,yesterday morning, 
 to recjuest I would heai" his oration this evening. Can 1 do 
 less than accept the invitation of Mr. Ogilvie, especially as 
 he assures me it is what he thinks his best oration, and will 
 feel himself honoured by my presence. Your cousins tell me 
 you have some thoughts of going, and I shall feel particularly 
 happy, that it should so happen, that on one cf the few ccct;- 
 sions, when it suits me to.go into public, my dear neice should 
 be with me. Pray come early, and jou must ;dso consider 
 yourself as invited for tomorrow, when we shall endeavour 
 to have Polls for Skylarks, Bonds to detain Nightingales, 
 and some sweet singing birds to enliven the evening; but it 
 will be no evening to me without my Frances and Mary, so 
 oeme and oblige your affectionate aunt, 
 
 M. L. Ramsay. 
 
270 LETTER FROM MRS. RAMSAY &c. 
 
 I'ROM THE SAME TO THE SAME. 
 
 DEAR FAN, 
 
 You have made me feel almost as curious as a youii": giil 
 •with your 'I know what 1 couhl say.' And pi'ay, Miss Fan, 
 wh;it could you say ? Not that you are envious 1 hope. He- 
 member Avhut we have in hand, 5'ou stili have in hope, and 
 tlon't laugh at old folks. Here is Fatty in a peck of troubles ; 
 her Mercury has dropt In' tlie way the note she sent with 
 mine, and she fears its falling into the hands of some curi- 
 ous decipherer, who will perhaps discover more in it than 
 it means. 1 comfort myself Avith the tiiought, that it will 
 be found on your own iioor, as it was put wivbin uiiue. I 
 have holiday to day, which is the reason why you have two 
 notes. I really long to see you, and I love ) ou vvilii all my 
 hcartj only you must spare a bit of it f)r dear Mary. 
 1 reuiuin your alfeclionate 
 
 M.L. Ham SAY. 
 
 mOM J)0. WITH AJFANCY XAME TO DO, 
 
 DEAR GIRLS, 
 
 Your cousins have deputed me to entreat you will favour 
 tliem and Dr liamsay with your company to lladdiell's 
 this mornir.g. They wish for } ou ' oth ; but if dear Fan is 
 afiuid of her sweet complexion, or has any other real or im- 
 aginary fears, pray Mrs Moll do you come at once, break- 
 fast witii your cousins and be oft', and let Fan come at her 
 leisure, ami dine with poor king George, who either from 
 love lf> dear mammy, or some other cause, has deternrmed 
 on slaying at home. Now you young people, who are al- 
 Avays making me one of your partv, don't let me have writ- 
 ten in vain. You will have tlie pleasure of pleasing the 
 Avho'e noble race -of Shenkins, and among the whole race, 
 ^v ho loves you more, than 
 
 Martha ap Shenkins. 
 
 These notes were not received in time to be inserted ia 
 the iii'st edition of the preceding memoirs. Editor. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 ^^0 9 6e 
 
LIBRARY 
 
 CONGRESS