Her Relapse into Infidelity
About the age of seventeen, Miss Graham’s mind underwent a most extraordinary revolution. She fell, for a few months, from the heavenly atmosphere of communion with God, into the dark and dreary regions of infidelity. Allusion has already been made to this afflicting circumstance, in her letter. But for a most interesting and graphic detail, the reader must be referred to her own published account; some digest of which will here be given, in order to connect the thread of her history, and to exhibit a clear view of one of the most important eras in her life.
Miss Graham’s mind opened in a metaphysical form, unfavourable to a simple reception of truth. And this, connected with a defective apprehension of her lost estate, induced a spirit of self-dependence, one of the most subtle and successful hindrances to the Christian life.* Thus was the way opened to a secret habit of backsliding from God. Tbe foolish vanities of the world for a while captivated her heart; and her manners were remarked to be like any other thoughtless girls of her own age. From frivolity she sought refuge
* She alludes to an injury, which her own mind, in common (as she conceives) with many others, had received from adopting- Doddridge’s form of covenanting with God. (Rise and Progress, chapter xvii. ) This was in her thirteenth year. Let it however he remembered, that, though this mode of dedication may have frequently ministered to a legal spirit, yet it by no means necessarily partakes of an unevangelical character. This “subscribing of the hand unto the Lord,” has been found by many eminent Christians (as, for example, in Philip Henry’s family) to be a cord of love, not a yoke of bondage. Allusion is probably made to it as an acceptable ordinance in the service of the Gospel. — -iWa/rxliv. 3 — 5.
in her more solid intellectual pursuits. All sources of self-gratification within her power were resorted to with the fruitless attempt of obtaining peace in a course of departure from God. Wearied at length with disappointment, this prodigal child “began to be in want;” and many a wishful eye did she cast towards the rich provision of her father’s forsaken house. In turning, however, to religion for comfort, she found, to use her own words; ‘Alas! I had no religion: I had refused to give glory to the Lord my God; now my feet were left to stumble upon the dark mountains.’
The doctrine of the Divinity of Christ had often been to her (as to many other minds cast in the same mould), an occasion of perplexity. Now it was “a stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence.” Though repeated examination had fully satisfied her that it was the truth of the Bible, yet so repulsive was it to her proud heart, that she was led from thence to question the truth of the Bible itself. I suspected,’ said she, that a system of religion, which involved such apparent absurdities, could not possibly come from God. Determined to sift the matter to the utmost, I eagerly acquainted myself with the arguments for and against Christianity. My understanding was convinced that the Scriptures were divine. But my heart refused to receive the conviction. The more my reason was compelled to assent to their truth, the more I secretly disliked the doctrines of the Bible.’
Continued resistance to convictions was the natural and melancholy result of this inquiry. She determined to lay the subject aside for a while, still ’ persuading herself that there must be flaws in the evidence of so strange a history,’ which only her want of maturity of judgment prevented her from discovering. Those early religious impressions, that usually form a bulwark against infidelity, in her case proved a stumbling-block to her faith. Ignorant of the native bias of her heart against the Gospel, she considered them as the effect of prejudice, before her mind had been intelligibly informed or exercised. She now, therefore, determined to burst her chains, and to think and examine for herself.
Hitherto she had confined her perplexities within her own bosom; partly dreading the influence of external bias, and partly fearing to infuse into another’s mind doubts concerning a book, which, she could not conceal from herself, might after all be true. She endeavoured now to strengthen her mind by pursuing a course of intellectual study, with the direct design of preserving herself from becoming a dupe to “cunningly devised fables.” And here she did not fail subsequently to acknowledge the special forbearance and wisdom of her heavenly Father. Justly might he have deprived her of that reason, which she had so presumptuously set up in his own place. Yet was he pleased to overrule this waywardness of his child as an ultimate means of her restoration, in applying her course of mental discipline to the effectual discovery of the fallacies with which she was now deluded.
The immediate effect however of these studies was decidedly injurious. Their absorbing interest diverted her mind from the main subject of inquiry; while they proved also a temporary refuge against the uneasy disturbance of her conscience. Even her intervals of reflection were too easily soothed by the indefinite postponement of the great concern to “a more convenient season.” Occasional convictions were indeed felt, but without any permanent or practical influence.
Through the Divine mercy this state of infatuation did not prove of long duration. After a few months’ captivity, she was brought, though not without severe conflict of mind, to the full light and liberty of scriptural truth.* The conviction of the being of a God, in her darkest moments had never wholly forsaken her. A few hours’ contemplation of the starry heavens darted into her mind a piercing reflection upon her stupidity and ingratitude, in what she justly called an ‘unnatural and parricidal attempt to banish God from his own creation, to depose him from his natural supremacy over her heart.’ Her whole life now appeared to her (what indeed the Scriptures declare it to be) one continued act of sin and folly. Her convictions however of sin, being wholly unconnected with any discovery of the way of forgiveness, naturally tended to despondency. Every fresh sense of the corruption of her heart and of the unsullied purity of the Divine character, brought with it a corresponding sense of guilt. She could expect therefore nothing but punishment proportioned to the infinite sinfulness of her offence. She could not conceive the consistency of her forgiveness with the claim of Divine justice; and the alternative of her eternal punish-
* It may be remarked, that severe providential afflictions about this period concurred with the exercises of her own mind, to awaken her mind to this self-abasing recollection of her fearful departure from God.
ment seemed even less dreadful than the supposition of any inconsistency in Him, who, in her view, was the Perfection of Holiness. ‘I had acquired,’ she remarked, ’ such a perception of the beauty of holiness, that the thought of an unholy God was worse than hell to me. I felt that I had rather God should pour out on me all the vials of his wrath, than that, carried away by an unworthy softness and weakness, he should forgive, and thereby encourage sin. To undergo eternal punishment was horrible. To acknowledge an unholy God was more horrible.’
As her last expedient, her despised Bible was brought to mind. And ’ how different’ — she observes — ’ was the temper of mind, in which I now addressed myself to its perusal, from that in which I had read it in the commencement of my disbelief of Christianity! I was no longer a proud sophist, triumphing in the strength and penetration of human reason, and in the comprehensiveness of human knowledge. The contemplation of my own ignorance, weakness, and wickedness, had laid my pride in the dust. My eyes were opened to view myself as I really was — depraved and blinded in my reason, judgment, and understanding. And this is the process, which must take place in the soul of every man, before he can pursue the search after truth in a right spirit.
Her interest was early directed to the promises of Divine teaching to the sincere inquirer after truth. Their suitableness fixed her attention. Their freeness encouraged her heart. “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find. He giveth his Holy Spirit to them that ask him” — especially arrested her. She determined to make trial of them, conceiving that their fulfilment in her own case would be a * Test of the Truth? of the hook, which held them forth for her acceptance. Though hindered at first by a sense of nnworthiness, she ventured to apply; justly considering, that whatever might be her apprehensions of her own demerit, yet a state of submission and desire could not be so displeasing to God, as one of carelessness and rebellion. But the description of this anxious crisis must be given in her own striking words. ‘Impelled by these reflections — fearful and uncertain, but with uncontrolable, unutterable longings, I directed my applications * To the unknown GodS O my Redeemer! the first breathings of my soul were not uttered in thy name! I rushed into the presence of my Judge without a mediator. But doubtless even then Thy comeliness was thrown over the deformity of my soul; and the eye of my Father beheld me with pity, for thy dear name’s sake. My prayer ascended up to heaven, fragrant with the incense of thy merits; though the poor wretch who offered it thought to please God by leaving thee out of it.
In this prostration of soul she continued “watching daily at her Lord’s gates, waiting at the posts of his doors.” It need scarcely be added, she did not seek in vain. The Divine character now appeared before her, not, as before, in its consuming holiness; but in the combined glory of holiness and love. Her apprehensions of sin, of Christ, and of the whole system of Christian truth, were now irradiated with heavenly light; and with simplicity, and godly sincerity” of “heart,” she was enabled to “believe unto righteousness.” The character of Christ, as a proof of the credibility of the Christian revelation, arrested her particular attention. A minute scrutiny of His spotless life was most satisfactory in its result.* 1 The more,’ said she, ‘I studied this Divine character, the more I grew up as it were into its simplicity and holiness, the more my understanding -was enabled to shake off those slavish and sinful prejudices, which had hindered me from appreciating its excellence. Truly his words were dearer to me “than my necessary food.” He was my “All in all.” I did not want to have any knowledge, goodness, or strength, independently of him. I had rather be “accepted in the Beloved,” than received (had that been possible) upon the score my own merits. I had rather walk, leaning upon his arm, than have a stock of strength given me to perform the journey alone. To learn, as a fool, of Christ; this was better to
* This is not a solitary instance of impression from the contemplation of the character of Christ. Even Mr. Chubb must have felt some conviction, when he describes his life ‘as a beautiful picture of human nature in its native purity and simplicity; and showing at once what excellent creatures men would be, when under the influence and power of that gospel which he preached unto them. ’ (True Gospel, p. 56.) Rousseau’s exquisite contrast between Socrates and Christ is well known, concluding with the remarkable acknowledgment respecting the latter: — ‘The inventor of such a personage would be a more astonishing character than the hero.’ Yet could this man’s heart resist the dear conviction of his judgment — F I cannot* — he subjoins — ’ believe the Gospel.’’ His Confessions, however, clearly trace his unbelief to its proper cause — the love of sin. See John iii. 19, 20, — a text which throws more light upon the secret springs of infidelity, than whole volumes that have been written upon the subject.
me than to have the knowledge of an angel to find out things for myself.’
After her recovery from this fearful snare of Satan, she was mercifully preserved from “turning again to folly,” and. led forth in “the path of the just,” with increasing light, strength, and establishment. From that moment,’ she adds, * I ceased to stumble at the doctrines of the cross. The doctrines of Scripture, which had before appeared to me an inexplicable mass of confusion and contradictions, were now written on my understanding with the clearness of a sunbeam. Above all, that once abhorred doctrine of the Divinity of Christ was becoming exceeding precious to me. The external evidences of Christianity, though I now perceived all their force, were no longer necessary to my conviction. From that time,’ she concludes, ‘I have continued to “sit at the feet of Jesus, and to hear his wrord;” taking him for my Teacher and Guide in things temporal as well as spiritual. He has found in me a disciple so slow of comprehension, so prone to forget his lessons and to act in opposition to his commands, that were he not infinitely “meek and lowly in heart,” he would long ago have cast me off in anger. But he still continues to bear with me, and to give me “line upon line, and precept upon precept.” And I am certain, that he “will never leave me, nor forsake me ^’ for, though I am variable and inconstant, “with him there is no variableness, neither shadow of turning.” ‘*
The writer cannot but hope, that at this awful crisis, when a moral pestilence (far more dreadful than the late providential visitation) is stalking through the land, the preceding narrative may suggest seasonable caution, conviction, and encouragement to some, especially of his young readers. Let them mark the connexion of the first principles of infidelity, with the exercise of the understanding, and with the state of the heart.
Pride of intellect in Miss Graham’s case, was evidently one
* Test of Truth, pp. 112 — 117. The extracts given from this interesting little work, will be sufficient to commend it to the reader’s attention, as the production of an author of no common ppwer, and deeply imbued with the glowing principles of the Gospel. It will remind the reader of some of Mr. Scott’s painful exercises of mind described in his ‘Force of Truth’’ and of the argument so successfully handled by Bishop Burnet in his disputations with Lord Rochester.
main cause of her departure from God. When her mind left the strong-hold of faith, her scriptural light, which could only be apprehended through spiritual optics, became obscured, until she was gradually left to the Egyptian darkness of her own understanding. And this we apprehend to be a very usual commencement of an infidel course, upon principles equally opposed to reason and to revelation. Man, in his prurient desire to pass the bounds of revelation, forgets that while “the things that are revealed belong to us and to our children,” the “secret things” are no less the property of God. As he has, therefore, reserved them for himself, this “intrusion into the things which we have not seen,” and cannot see, is the unhallowed indulgence of a “fleshly mind.” The extent and precise boundaries of revelation are determined by infinite wisdom; and could we discern them with a single eye, they would be found equally illustrative of a high regard to the happiness of man. A more expanded view under present circumstances would only increase instead of clearing up our difficulties. The eye would wander over the field of infinite space with a disproportioned power of perception. The objects, therefore, would be less distinctly apprehended; and the result would leave us more restless and dissatisfied, while the happy influence of humility, simplicity, and faith had been wholly disregarded. If we have not the whole view before us, let it suffice, that we have all that is needful for our happiness and present duty. The attempt to supply what we conceive to be wanting by the conjectural effort of reason, would be to subject “vain man” to his Maker’s merited rebuke — “Who is this that darkeneth counsel by words without knowledge 1” Every step of advance beyond the Divine record is fraught with danger and uncertainty. “In God’s light” alone “can we see light.” The intellectual “light that is in us,” when applied by the pride of man to the contents of revelation — “is darkness; and how great is that darkness!” Simple faith, therefore, however mistaken or despised, may justly be deemed the highest act of reason; while rational religion, ’ falsely so called,’ may easily be proved to be of all schemes the most irrational.*
* The writer cannot forbear to add some admirable remarks from an unpublished manuscript of Miss Graham’s shortly to be noticed. It is true that faith compels our assent to many things beyond the reach of reason, even of the renewed reason. But this implicit ere-We would add a few words upon the connexion of infidelity with the state of the heart. We are not exclusively intellectual beings. The affections so materially influence the judgment, as often to incapacitate it for the accurate discernment of truth. The natural bias of the heart is to sin, and consequently to infidelity, the excuse and covering for sin. The point at issue is, whether men shall remain the servants of sin, or become the servants of God; whether they shall be degraded as sensual beings, or raised to the elevation of intelligent or spiritual existence. Now, as the Gospel stands in the way of natural indulgence, it must be removed. So that if a course of infidel reading, or intercourse with scoffers, has not furnished the necessary arguments, they must be invented from the man’s own heart. The danger of infidelity is not, therefore, confined to the ungodly and profane. Every unconverted man must secretly wish the Bible to be untrue; and under this bias he will (except restrained by an Almighty power) endeavour to prove it untrue. A wrong state of
dence is itself the highest and noblest exercise of the understanding. It is a reasonable assent to the testimony of One, in whom we repose unlimited confidence, because we have reasonable grounds for concluding Him to be infinitely wiser than ourselves. An exercise of the reason is presupposed, whereby we are assured that the Bible is God’s testimony; and an act of the Understanding, whereby, having obtained this assurance, we infer, that every word of the Bible must be true. The Divine philosophy of faith, then, sets out upon these two propositions. The first — an assurance, founded in reason, that the Bible is the revelation of God- The second — an inference, equally founded in reason, that every word of the Bible is true; and must therefore be taken in preference to all the deductions of our own reason, which may or may not be true. Neither of these propositions is shaken by the fact, that the Bible contains many things which we do not understand; or in other words, that God may know many things which we do not know; that many things may appear to his infinitely holy and unclouded understanding, in a very different light, from that in which they are viewed by our narrow and prejudiced minds. When the first proposition is once proved to the entire satisfaction of the mind, the second must follow of course. Then faith, an implicit, childlike faith, becomes the only rational mode of proceeding. Every departure from this faith is a departure from reason; an insult to the understanding; a violation of common sense. And that we do make such departures, only tends to prove, that while the renewed understanding “consents to the law of God that it is holy, just, and good;” “the law of sin,” which is yet working “in our members,” occasionally beclouds and perverts it.
heart, as with Miss Graham, gives the power and advantage to this active and malignant principle. In her early state “of child-like simplicity she would have been safe. But the “fulfilment of the desires of the mind,” probably more than of “the flesh,” combined with ignorance “of Satan’s devices,” brought her into his snare; and she was “taken captive by him at his will.” Depending upon the teaching of the Spirit of God, our “path” in Divine knowledge will be “as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.” And ’ whenever’ (as an original and powerful writer remarks) * he opens the Scriptures, that same light that discovers the meaning, will not fail to affect and make our hearts burn within us with the sense of Divine light, authority, and power. Of this the experience of the people of God, as they grow in knowledge, furnishes them daily with new instances,; and therefore they do not stumble at the want of the present sense of that light, but are quickened to diligence, excited to frequent cries for opening of their eyes, that they may understand the wonders, that by the knowledge of other parts of the Word, they are induced to believe couched in those parts, which yet they knew not.’ One further remark suggests itself from this interesting record to avoid unnecessary distress and misconception. Let not Miss Graham’s vivid portraiture of her own feelings and views be considered as a general standard, as if the same intensity of mental exercise, and clearness of spiritual perception were the exclusive evidences of a sound conversion of heart to God. Self-renunciation, diligent investigation of Divine truth, and a conscientious improvement of the light vouchsafed, are indeed indispensable marks of Christian sincerity. Yet while the enjoyment of our high privileges will vary in proportion to the energy of these holy principles, the measure of their influence is almost indefinitely diversified within the precincts of the true church of God. It may also be important to observe, that many of Miss Graham’s most painful trials (such as her intellectual pride) arose out of the peculiar form of her natural character. No sympathy therefore can be expected or need be desired in minds cast in a different mould; and any effort to excite or encourage it, for the purpose of establishing an ideal connexion with3 this object of attraction, (which would probably be unaccompanied with a desire to imitate the spiritual excellences of the proposed model) can only originate in deceit, and tend to self-delusion.