Different Views and Features in Miss Graham's Character
The retired and uniform habits of Miss Graham’s life scarcely allow of a detailed illustration of her natural character. That singular freedom from selfishness, remarked in her early history, appears to have been, by the common consent of all her intelligent friends, a most prominent feature throughout life. One of her young companions, whose subsequent opportunities of observation give weight to her testimony, thus confirms the general remark on this point. — ‘The situation which I have filled for some years (in tuition) has of course brought under my notice the various dispositions and peculiar tempers of children in general. From necessity, partly, I have studied them. But I have never met with one, who in any degree answered my recollections of Mary Graham. Warm and susceptible in her affections, she was tender to those of others; nor did she ever suffer any regret or disappointment in her own mind to interfere with the comfort or pleasure of her companions.’ The testimony of her young cousin is to the same purport. ‘I never saw any one so devoid of selfishness, or who took so warm an interest in the happiness of her fellow-creatures. There was not one of my amusements or childish sorrows in which she would not take her share. As I grew up, her kindness in this respect increased.’ This lovely trait was combined with a sweetness and gentleness of disposition, and, being moulded under the influence of Divine grace, attracted the regard even of the thoughtless and unobservant. Indeed her young friend first alluded to does not hesitate to assert — ‘My earliest remembrance of her is connected with feelings of respect, which, I think I may say, I have scarcely felt in a stronger degree for any one I have since known.’
We have already given her parents’ account of her relative character under their own roof. In its wider sphere of operation it may however be added, that her natural affection was enlarged in no common degree to all that belonged to her, and manifested in the most important and practical mode of constant prayer and effort for the salvation of their souls. She sometimes spent a great part of the night in earnest and persevering intercession; and on one occasion was known, after she had retired to rest, to arise from her bed to employ herself in special prayer, in behalf of her only brother who died in America about this time, and for whom she never ceased to cherish the hope, that her prayers were heard with acceptance.
The following letter full enforces the claims of natural affection upon the basis of the high principles of the gospel. In quickening her friend to a self-denying effort in this path of duty, she writes —
Stoke, Jan. 2, 1827.
* My dear,” freely we have received, freely let us
give.” If it does take up half-a-day once or twice a month
to go to, surely God, who gave all your days, has a
right to expect you should spend them in whatever service he will put upon you; and by making these individuals your near relations, he has given them a claim upon you. Jesus made himself as our brother, that sucked the breasts of our mother, on purpose to give us an everlasting claim to all that he can do for us; and surely those whom he has given us as near relations, have for his sake, a claim upon all that we can do for them. The more unpleasant the task, the more contrary to flesh and blood, the more reason we have to hope that we are not following our own fancy, nor working to please ourselves, but really following the example of Jesus, who, “came not to do his own will.” At the same time, if after prayer, you really do not feel called upon to do something for them, and that speedily and perseveringly; and if you do not think you are guilty of great unfaithfulness, and selfishness in neglecting it, I will not mention the subject again to you; for I am persuaded you will be taught of God, and faith will be given you, if the Lord intends to make use of you to do them good. My great desire is that we may be always faithful to one another, “provoking one another to good works.”
In another letter to the same correspondent, she throws out a valuable hint of encouragement relative to a difficulty, which is often painfully felt in this course of obligation.
* I often think, dear, that if we could feel and carry in
our memory those encouraging words of our Saviour, “It is not ye that speak, but the Spirit of your Father, which speaketh in you,” — we should no longer suffer false shame to hinder us from earnestly pressing the subject of the gospel upon those who are dear to us. May not we, as well as the Inspired Apostles, hope for the indwelling guidance of that Spirit, who shall strengthen us in all utterance and in knowledge?’
One main feature of her intellectual character was the ardour, steadiness, and concentration of mind, with which she pursued every object of interest. This indeed distinguished her earliest and most unbended habits. Her youthful games were marked with the same intensity of feeling which she subsequently applied to her more important objects. She engaged in games of imagination, as one of her companions remarks, with all the earnestness of reality, and acted a fictitious character with an expression, that proved her to be totally absorbed in it. Thus it was with reading or with work. No efforts or entreaties could avail to divert her mind from the object which was then engaging her attention to any other employment or recreation. In the occupations of after-life, whether it was music, the languages, mathematics, or chemistry, it was still the same warmth and fixedness of mind. The early dawn not unfrequently found her (after she had girded on her C hristian armour) deeply engaged in her studies. The spirit and result of her investigations often entered into her common conversation, whenever she met with a kindred mind — not however in any display of pedantry, (than which nothing was more removed from her temper,) but in the natural flow of her spirits, and with a lively endeavour to communicate a reciprocal interest. The simplicity and elastic spring of her mind was also remarkably illustrated in her peculiar faculty of drawing out the mental resources of those with whom she conversed; so that, though they could not but be sensible of her great superiority, yet they appeared to themselves often to possess a greater strength of mind, and variety of conception, than they had before been conscious of. Perhaps however the completeness of her intellectual character appeared in the well-regulated application of her mental powers. To subjects of taste — such as music and poetry — she brought a glow of feeling, and of imagination, that quickens the pulse of her readers, and plays upon the passions with an irresistible charm. On the other hand, matters of a graver Cast, such as the highly valuable discussions of her Mathematical Manuscript, are drawn out with the sober accuracy of a reflecting and discriminating judgment. The illustrations that have been given of her musical excitement might almost lead us to suppose that this was the atmosphere in which she lived, and that she could breathe in no other; yet was this fervid enthusiasm disciplined by the apprehension of the preponderance of this indulgent taste above more solid pursuits. Thus was her fine imagination furnished with a proportionate counterpoise in the master-principle of her ever active mind.
As to her Christian character — this highest style of man — that energy of feeling and industry of habit, which gave the impulse to her intellectual studies, no less strongly marked the temperament of her religion. Though she had a clear perception that the blessing she sought was a free gift, yet she expected the attainment of it, like that of every important object of pursuit, only in the constant use of the appointed means. She was therefore led to cherish the principles of her Christian profession, in a spirit of earnest and prayerful searching of the Scriptures, and thus was she enabled to exhibit the graces of the gospel in lovely combination and practical exercise.
In giving, however, a detailed sketch of Miss Graham’s spiritual character, we would premise, that it was marked by that variation of feeling, which is so often alluded to in her correspondence, and which, though common to all cases of Christian experience, her remarkable elevation of spirituality rendered more visible than in most other cases. The difference of her feelings was often discernible in her countenance. On some seasons it was irradiated with a peculiar expression of heavenly feature. She was manifestly filled with the love of God, and “out of the abundance of her heart her mouth would speak.” At other times it was with difficulty that she could be induced to converse upon religious subjects; and she would turn from them to enter upon topics exclusively intellectual. But this view of her character cannot better be described than in the language of her most intimate and confidential friend.
1 did not notice any infirmity in her Christian character, except the one she herself often mentions — inequality. The difference in spiritual feeling was more visible in her than in any other Christians I have known. When in a state of warm feeling, she was more entirely engrossed by the subject than any one I ever met with. Nothing else could interest her. When her mind was less under the influence of heavenly things, the difference was obvious. I do not mean by her giving way to any sinful temper or feeling, but by her conversing with pleasure and interest upon merely earthly things. Nor do I think that at these times she sunk much, if at all, below the usual standard. Ordinarily she rose, I should think, above it.’
The general tone, however, of her habit, both contemplative and active, manifested the habitual operation of a high measure of Divine influence; while her occasional depressions seem not to have sunk her below the ordinary level, and were doubtless connected with those exercises of humiliation described in her correspondence, which will find their response in the hearts of many of her readers.
We now proceed to the chief object of this work, a detailed development of the most prominent features of Miss Graham’s Christian character.
In a compassionate concern for the unconverted, she had deeply imbibed the spirit of her beloved Master. 4 1 see,’ as she writes to a friend, ’ more need than ever to pray, not only for the souls of others, but for a spirit of love to souls, and for a sense of their inestimable value.’ She had diligently improved the opportunities of her health, in pleading with the careless and unbelieving, and in every exercise of tender anxiety on their behalf. In the chamber of pain and sickness, their awful condition intensely occupied her mind; and the long and “wearisome nights appointed” her, were often engaged in intercession for their souls.
4 When first I visited her’ — observed the dear brother who was the privileged attendant upon her sick bed — ’ hearing of a poor woman in a dangerous state, and unconcerned about her eternal interests, she eagerly inquired of me respecting her soul, and begged me most earnestly to pray for her. She spoke with a peculiar interest, as if she felt what it was for a soul to be lost. Indeed her minister expresses himself to have been continually struck with her deep tone of anxiety on the state of the parish. If she heard of any that were awakened from a fearful state of stupidity and death, it was always with the most lively expression of delight. Often was she known to shed tears of joy upon any symptom of hope and encouragement respecting them that were brought before her. She felt the responsibility of every opportunity of addressing her fellow-sinners, whether rich or poor, upon the immensely momentous concerns of eternity; and when unable to seek after them, she longed to bring them into her sick room, within the reach of her solemn and affectionate exhortations; though a restless night was the expected consequence of this ardent excitement. It was her great desire to bring her whole family, all her friends and neighbours, to Christ and to heaven with her. Though suffering under excruciating pain, and her “soul breaking out with longing desires” for a sight of Christ in his glory: yet, when speaking of the perishing state of sinners, she would say — ‘Oh! I would gladly live a hundred years, if I might be the means of saving one soul.’ Shortly before her death, when in a state of great exhaustion, she begged her minister to pray for an infidel, who had an opportunity of seeing her ‘Test of Truth,’ as it passed through the press — ‘Weak as the work is’ — she said in her deep humility — ’ it may prove a blessing to his soul.’
A few extracts from her correspondence will afford striking illustration of the deep feeling of her Christian responsibility and love. The first letter relates to an unhappy female, who had been brought under her notice. Being unable personally to attend to her case, she thus warmly enforces it upon her friend, who was, jointly with herself, interested in it.
Dec. 18, 1827. ‘My chief reason for writing to-day is, that this poor wretched girl dwells upon my mind. You make good reflections, but these very reflections ought to lead us to do something for her. She must be very young; and if we do not make an effort to save her from destruction, I think that we shall indeed have much to answer for. Her not belonging to us, ought to be no excuse for our not concerning ourselves about her. For does she not belong to the large family of lost sinners to which we once belonged ] And may we not be the means of removing her thence, into the family of saved sinners, of which God’s mercy has made us members 1 I cannot rest till something is tried. So young, and so brought up, what better could be expected from her 1 What should we have been under her disadvantages 1 1 tremble even to think of it; and for very thankfulness we ought to leave nothing- untried to save her. She has been also brought under our notice by a peculiar providence, which is, I think, a call to the work.’
To this wretched object of distress she addressed a letter full of tender and awakening exhortations. To her great concern, however, this messenger of mercy never reached the hands of her for whom it was intended, and who was soon afterwards transported. Shortly afterwards she again stimulates her friend to this work of love, with the solemn impulse connected with the concerns of a never-dying soul.
Jan. 11, 1828.
4 1 beseech you to reflect, that on one hand this girl may be a subject of regret to you upon a bed of death. On the other hand, she may be to you a “crown of rejoicing in the day of the Lord Jesus.” ’
The fervour that pervades the following letter, is deeply affecting.
March 18, 1828. 4 But why should I say I have nothing to write about? I am really ashamed of the folly of the last sentence, and of the frivolous temper which dictated it. Yes, my dear friend, if we love the Lord Jesus, we have always a subject of the deepest interest — enough to employ our tongue and our pen, both morning, noon, and night. I would fain make him the subject of our communication here, as I trust he will be the theme of our songs and praises in heaven; and firmly believing, as I do, that there is neither praise nor lasting joy for those who place their happiness in any thing short of loving him, can I do otherwise than tell you how very earnestly I wish, that you may be led by his grace to make him your all in all!
May his Holy Spirit lead us, my dear M; for in short, all
are sinners, by nature as well as by practice, altogether alienated from God, to whom we can only be “made nigh by the blood of Jesus.” Do not let us deceive ourselves in so important a subject. If we are walking in the same way with the world around us, we are not walking in the narrow way which leads to life; nor can we be the followers of that Saviour, “who gave himself for us, that He might deliver us from this evil world.” There is a peace which the world knoweth not of, and a joy in which all its boasted pleasures are but vanity. This is the peace and the joy, which I would intreat you to seek after. But you will say to me — ‘Why do you recommend it 1 and why are you so uncharitable as to suppose I do not possess it already V It is because 1 know what a great and entire change it requires in the whole heart and character. I am sensible, that such is the utter sinfulness of my own heart, that nothing but a Divine influence could have led me to see any thing in Christ crucified that was worth giving up all the world for. And may not the same Divine power snatch you as a brand from the burning, and lead you to the cross of Jesus for pardon and salvation 1 This is the hope that induces me to venture upon writing to you so freely; and the very affectionate interest 1 feel in every thing relating to you, must plead my excuse, if, when I speak of a thing on which your eternity depends, I speak in the strong language which my anxiety suggests to me.’
Some misconception of her correspondent gave rise to the next letter.
‘Your letter occasioned me much pain, and — I will add — perplexity. I could not conceive from what part of mine you had discovered, that I thought holiness unnecessary to a Christian. My dear friend, Tknow (for God has said), that “without holiness no man shall see the Lord:” but I know (for God has said it too), that we cannot be holy of ourselves: “we are not sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves;” and, “without me” — saith Christ — “ye can do nothing.” As this is not a matter of little importance, but one of life and death, let me most earnestly and affectionately entreat you to make it the subject of unceasing prayer. “If any man lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth to all men liberally.” “Ask, and ye shall have.” The Scripture abounds with promises to those who make it the business of their lives to seek God. Allow me to mention one more, which always fills my mind with comfort and peace: — “Then shall ye call upon me, and ye shall go and pray unto me, and I will hearken unto you. And ye shall seek me, and find me, when ye shall search for me with all your heart.” I have mentioned this way of prayer to you, because I believe we might write about these things for ever, without coming nearer to the truth. Prayer is the way of God’s appointment; and I never knew any one who really prayed earnestly and perseveringly for Divine teaching, that was not brought at length heartily to subscribe to what are called evangelical S doctrines. The Scriptures take away all hope of our understanding these things of ourselves, when they tell us, that “the natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him.” Foolish indeed does the doctrine of the cross appear to the heart untaught by the Spirit of God; but let the heart be once taught to receive it, and it beholds in it, “the power and wisdom of God;” and a person thus taught will feel constrained to make it his great desire, endeavour, and prayer, that others may learn it too. Therefore if I could write volumes to you, the little word “pray” should be the burden of them all. By prayer I do not mean that cold thing, which worldly people call prayer; I mean such an effort, as a man dying with hunger, would use to beg for food; I mean begging as for one’s life, being able to say as David did — “There is nothing in heaven,
or in earth that I desire beside thee.” Dear, I feel
that I have spoken to you with great freedom and plainness; I cannot help it. If I saw a friend on the brink of a precipice, I would try to pull her away from it. I know that all who trust in any thing but Christ for pardon and salvation, are on the brink of eternal destruction; and can I rest, when any whom I love are in this state. I know, too, that unless God is pleased to bless what I have said, you will only think me a fool for my pains: but this is of little consequence. Before another letter can pass between us, one or both of us may have entered into eternity, when every man’s foundation that he trusted in, will be tried; and it will be seen how miserably mistaken are those, who build upon the sand, upon their own imperfect righteousness: while those alone who build upon the Rock of Ages will be safe. May you be one of those! may you flee for refuge to Christ Jesus! trust him for every thing, follow him in every thing: take him alone for your guide and teacher, and cease to “lean unto your own understanding.” ’
The next letter contains a faithful and affectionate appeal made to a beloved relative under affliction. It cannot fail of interesting the reader, as a specimen of that natural affection, which we have before noticed under the constraining influence of the principles of the gospel.
Nov. 26, 1829. * How very sorry your letter has made us! I can conceive nothing more heart-breaking than the situation you are now all in. I intreat you most earnestly, my” dearest, to
seek comfort in earnest prayer, for your dear afflicted, and
to try by every means in your power to lead him to the same source of comfort. I know he cannot now bear to have much said to him; but a verse occasionally read to him, ot a short and affectionate prayer offered up with him, might be blessed by our merciful God to his eternal good. I will endeavour to join my prayers with yours; if it should please God to lead him to the source of all peace, you may one day look back with joy upon this affliction. May it lead you all to flee more earnestly for refuge to the hope that is set before you! Tell
my dear with my most affectionate love, that I beseech
him to think of, and to pray over these words — “Come unto me, all ye that are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” Surely he may look upon this invitation as peculiarly addressed to himself. If ever there was one weary and heavy
laden in mind and body, it is: O let me implore him to
accept the offer, which infinite mercy holds out to him: let him cast his weary soul upon the love of Jesus; let him take all his sins and sorrows, and spread them at the feet of one who is willing to forgive, mighty to save, a present help in every time of trouble, to every one, without exception, who is willing to be forgiven, helped, saved, and abundantly comforted with the comfort which springs from his love, and which is, like himself, infinite and eternal.
4 O my dear, with whom I have enjoyed so many
happy hours, which will never fade from my memory; from whom I have received such repeated acts of kindness; and whom I love more as a parent than any other relation, suffer me to speak very earnestly to you; and take my words, I entreat you, as kindly and affectionately as they are meant. I cannot but long and pray, that you may” be comforted with the consolation wherewith I myself have been comforted of
God.” I have tried it, dearest; and I have tried the
comfort which the world has to give; and I have found the one deep, and satisfactory, and lasting; and the other vain, and empty, and transitory. You are, as I am, a sinner, a miserable sinner; and, unless you flee to Jesus for refuge, you cannot escape the wrath of God, which is revealed against all sin. You have lived in the neglect of these things, and have cared too little what would become of your soul. But is this any reason for despair, or even for discouragement? Oh! no. Christ still invites — nay, even beseeches — you to come to him; and tells you in his word, that he is perfectly willing, and perfectly “able to save all that come unto God by him.” The greatness of our sins need not prevent us; for his “blood cleanseth from all sin:” he died for sinners, even the chief of sinners. Our ignorance need not dishearten us; for “he teacheth sinners in the way.” O come unto this “meek and lowly” this strong and mighty, Saviour! He is too meek and gentle to reject, and too strong and faithful to disappoint, any that come.
* Dear, my heart is full. What can I say to induce you
to seek peace and happiness in the pardon of your sins through Jesus Christ 1 It is but asking you to be full of happiness and joy; for thus I know it will be with you, if you take the God of all comfort for your God. And do but think, how wonderful and unspeakable his condescension in offering to be our God, and friend, and father, “for ever and ever, our guide even until death,” our “everlasting portion and reward.” Only think, how dreadful, that he should be willing to save us, and we unwilling to give ourselves up to be saved and blessed by him! Can this be your case? It must not — it must not be so with you. You cannot reject the invitations of the gospel, and say to God, who beseeches you to be reconciled to him — ‘No — I will not be reconciled; I will not pray to the God of my salvation.’ I am sure the thought strikes you with horror. You cannot rightly seek God without the aid of the Holy Spirit; but you will receive this aid upon asking; for “God will give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him.” May he both teach you to pray, and hear and answer your prayer! May he relieve your suffering body, if it be his will, and comfort your distressed soul. Amen and amen.
If my dear can bear thus much read to him, you will
show it, or read it to him; and let us both pray, that he may know and feel the joy of being united to Christ.’
To another friend she wrote from her sick bed, nearly in the same strain.
* I lie here sometimes, and think what a poor useless creature I am. But if I might be made the happy means of inducing my dear and kind friend to cast himself, and all his sorrows, and sins, and uneasiness, at the feet of the Saviour of sinners, then I should think I had indeed lived to some purpose. I have often wanted to write to you; but the fear that you would think me unkind or assuming in intruding my thoughts upon you, has prevented me. But what a foolish and wicked fear this was, when the salvation of your precious soul was in question! Yes, my dear, I will
frankly own to you, that the sickness of your body, distressing as it is to me, afflicts me not half so much as the sickness of your soul. I greatly fear that you have not yet found peace in the pardon of your sins through Jesus Christ. I write to you as a sinner, saved by God’s grace, to a sinner, whom the grace of God, and that alone, can save. I would not be so cruelly heartless as to flatter you, and to say, ‘” peace, peace, while there is no peace.” But I do know that there is pardon and peace too, for every one, who feeling his sins to be many and grievous, flies to Jesus Christ for refuge; and it is thus that I conjure you to fly to him.
‘O my dear, how long has this gracious Saviour been
knocking at the door of your heart! By his Scriptures, which you have read; by the sermons and religious books that have come into your hands; by the secret strivings of his Spirit with your heart and conscience; by the afflictions wherewith he was afflicted, and still afflicts you; by all these things he knocks, he sues for admission. He will not let you rest till you open the door; and why 1 because he loves you; he would make you happy in this world, and happy for ever. He would be to you a friend, on whom you might safely lean; on whose constant love you might safely confide; one who would never leave nor forsake you; never be weary of nor slight you; never for one moment be unable or unwilling to listen to you, bless you, and relieve you.
1 Such a friend is Jesus Christ to all those who fly to him for salvation. May he be your friend and Saviour for ever! This is the sincere prayer of,
M. J. G.’
The tenderness and consideration with which she enforced these supremely important subjects upon her young friends, is noticed by those who were experimentally acquainted with it. Her gentleness and self-command were often put to the test by the coldness, petulance, or dislike with which her exhortations were received. But there was “no reproach or upbraiding on her part — no anger or contempt on account of the foolish things that were said; nor did she ever show the less interest in promoting amusements more after the heart of her companions. She was known sometimes to weep in tenderness, when a fault was confessed to her — but never at s 2 that time to reprove. Sometimes her humility and affectionate delicacy would rebuke the carelessness of her friend, by the acknowledgment of her own coldness and neglect. Thus she would lead her more thoughtless companion to unite with herself in supplication for pardon and grace. So truly was she a “fellow-worker with her God,” in “drawing with the bands of love.”
Connected with this was her tender and Christian faithfulness in giving reproof, where she considered it to be needed. The following is an instructive specimen of the mode and spirit in which this high obligation will be most effectually discharged. After giving a slight sketch of some -of the leading doctrines of the gospel, she brings them home in a direct and close application to the conscience of her friend.
‘And now, beloved, let me turn from every other consideration to yourself, and the state of your own mind. For you have rightly judged that I cannot think that the state of your, or any other person ought to have the least influence in preventing you from seeking the salvation of your own soul. The question is not, what do others do to be saved 1 But “what must I do to be saved?” You tell me that I am severe. Indeed I would not willingly be so. A miserable sinner myself, saved only by the free mercy of God, what right have I to be severe upon others? But I am “affectionately desirous of you” in the Lord Jesus; and therefore, as my beloved friend, I warn you. I fail in my duty to you, unless I tell you the truth. It may seem harsh to appear to have any doubt of your state; but it is kinder to lead you to examine now, than to leave you to the bare possibility of finding yourself deceived when it is too late. If then what I am now going to say should seem to you more severe than
ever, I entreat you, dearest, to forgive me for the sake
of the motive which impels me to do so. Consider that I am not now speaking of any trifling thing. The more I love you, the more impossible I find it to stand upon ceremony, while I am trembling for your soul. My fears then about your state are not excited by what I have heard. Had you become a very decided and devoted Christian, I think I should have heard of it from many quarters. In some it would have been noticed with delight; in others, with wonder; in others, with dislike and disapprobation. But my fears are drawn chiefly from the querulous and worldly strain in which most of your letters to me are written. I know that “if you have not the Spirit of Christ, you are none of his.” This spirit must be known by its fruits. “And the fruits of the Spirit are love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance.” Now I look earnestly, anxiously, for some of these fruits. I look for some sign that “the love of God is shed abroad in your heart by the Holy Ghost which is given to you.“” This love would show itself in love to others; in love even to your enemies, if you had any. But I fear you are indulging in feelings little short of hatred to more than one of your fellow-creatures. I fear that wrath, strife, disputations, envyings, jealousies, are too often more predominant in your heart than love. — Again, I look for some evidence of that “joy and peace in believing,” that “peace and joy in the Holy Ghost,” which form so great a part of the “kingdom of God” within us. Even mourning Christians must sometimes feel a little of this in their hearts. But sure I am, that if “the peace of God which passeth all understanding, did keep your heart and mind in Christ Jesus,” you could not be so much fretted and discomposed by the petty discontents, and trials, and offences of a world, whose frowns and whose smiles you would feel to be equally beneath your regard.
4 You would remember that your lot has been chosen for you by a wise and loving Father, and that the most vexatious events in it happen by his permission, and for your good.
Whenever we feel inclined to murmur, dear, at” our
light afflictions,” let us think of those faithful servants of God, who “had trial of cruel mockings, and scourgings, yea, moreover of bonds and imprisonments; who were stoned, were sawn asunder, were tempted, were slain with the sword, who wandered about in sheep skins and goat skins, being destitute, afflicted, tormented.” Yet these “destitute, afflicted, tormented,” ones, “in patience possessed their souls.” “The peace of God kept their hearts and minds;” and shall it not keep ours, in our comparatively no-sufferings 1 Now if these “fruits of the Spirit, love, joy, peace,” flourish in the heart, they must show themselves to be there: and if the contrary dispositions — anger, dissatisfaction, restlessness, appear in their stead, it proves either that “we have not the Spirit of Christ, and therefore are none of his,” or else that we have “grieved that Holy Spirit,” and caused him for a time to withdraw his sacred influences. In either case we ought not to rest, till we have sought and obtained that
44 godly sorrow,” for sin, “which worketh repentance unto salvation not to be repented of.” Where we may apply for this repentance, we are told in Acts v. 31. I will go on no longer in enumerating these fruits of the Spirit; for my business is not to judge you, but to lead you to judge and examine yourself. This I earnestly entreat you to do, “that you may not be judged of the Lord.” And should you now,
dearest, feel offended with me, it will give me the less
uneasiness — both because I know that you will not in the end love me the less for having faithfully discharged my conscience towards you before I die; and because I know that you will view it in a very different light at our next meeting, which will, I hope and trust, be around the throne of God and the Lamb.’
Her love to her Saviour must have been already prominently remarked by every intelligent reader. She lived much in distinct, deep, and fixed contemplation of him. Those parts of Scriptures were especially valuable, that brought her into closer contact with the subject nearest her heart — the love of Christ. The book of Canticles was therefore to her “a garden of delights.” Her pure and spiritual mind enabled her to study this holy book with the liveliest and most profitable interest. Many Christians, in an over-scrupulous delicacy and unscriptural taste, seem almost to have proscribed this portion of the sacred canon from their private meditation. The book indeed is an exposition of the heavenly privilege of communion with our Divine Saviour. It can only therefore be understood by those who can say — “Truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ.” The perusal of it moreover must be admitted to require a peculiar abstraction from earthly things. But the Christian’s heart under divine teaching, will be a spiritual interpreter of it; and whenever it is approached with reverence, simplicity, and sanctity, it will tend much to the enkindling of holy affections in the endearing contemplation of condescending love; in a self-abasing sense of backslidings; in a heavenly enjoyment of the presence of the Lord; in commending his person to all around us; in a panting desire for a closer communion with him; and in a joyous anticipation of his coming.
But Miss Graham’s love to her Saviour was not confined to spiritual contemplation. It was a principle of incessant activity, directing her daily Christian habit (to use her own beautiful language to one of her correspondents), to * watch with the eye of love every intimation of his will, every leading of his Spirit.’ Such is the difference between speculating- upon religion, and feeling it — when the heart has “tasted that the Lord is gracious” — when the man is made — “a new creature” — when his eyes have been opened to behold the beauty of his Saviour — and he is anxiously cultivating every temper of the gospel, in which he may live above the world, and walk with Christ.
Miss Graham’s happy anticipations of eternity were connected with this love to her Saviour. That which gave, in her eyes, emphasis and perfection to eternal bliss was — that it is all Christ — that the “Lamb is the light” of the heavenly city. Thus we find her writing a new year’s congratulation to a dear friend in the heart-stirring remembrance — that “now is our salvation nearer than when we believed.”
Stoke, Jan. 1, 1827.
1 This time last year we were together. Does it seem as if a year had passed since then 1 Another year of sin on our part, and of mercy, free and uninterrupted, on the part of our Jesus! There is something very sweet in the thought that we are a year nearer to his bosom; that every year will pass as swiftly as the last, till he calls us to himself; and that nothing can happen next year, or any following year, which can possibly separate us one single moment from his love. Perhaps this time next year we may be like him, “seeing him as he is,” joining in a song new indeed to our tongues, because it will be a triumphant song, and a holy and an everlasting song.’
Her love of prayer formed one of the main features of Tier character. Every habit of her mind appeared to flow in the spirit and atmosphere of prayer. The playful exercise of her youth were in this sanctified temperament. When her cousin visited her, the day was usually commenced with a chapter from her favourite Bible, accompanied with prayer, that they might both love and serve him, of whom that book testified. This service performed, she instantly turned all the warmth and animation of her affectionate temper, and all the powers of her highly-gifted mind to the amusement of her companion. We have already noticed the connexion of this habit with her intellectual employments, whether indulging her own gratifications, or superintending the instruction of her cousin. Hers was not the unsanctified study, which is glitter, not gtdd. All was consecrated to the supreme object of life, and directed to this object by the constant influence of that principle, which ennobles earthly occupations, and stamps them with a heavenly glory. The occasional visits of her young friends found her in the same spiritual habit. ‘Seldom,’ as one of her schoolfellows has recorded, ’ did I enter her little room, but she proposed the reading of the Bible, and would pour out her soul before her God with holy fervour and simplicity.’ Her public exercises of Christian devotedness were conducted in the same spirit. When engaged in the work of Sunday School tuition, she had her set times of prayer with her young cousin (who was at jthat time associated with her) for themselves, their fellow-labourers, and their responsible charge; and frequently she would offer distinct and separate supplication for each child in their classes. Her reponsibility as a member of the ransomed family of God, led her (as we find from a letter shortly to be adduced) in the true spirit of sympathy to devote an hour every evening mainly to the subject of intercessory prayer. Besides these constant occasions, she set apart special times for secret dedication and communion with God. New-year’s-day and birthdays were among these privileged seasons. It was one of her favourite plans to set apart occasionally a certain time exclusively for prayer and Scripture reading; and for this purpose all her other employments were removed from her sight. This was her preparation for any special engagement that was prospectively before her; and this course she recommended to her friends with beneficial effect. Another custom of somewhat similar character (and one that is happily making advance throughout the church in our day) was to prevail upon her confidential friends to set apart definite hours, when distant friends could meet together in one heart and one soul at the throne of their common Lord. Thus in the most extensive meaning of the Scriptural precept, she might be said to “pray without ceasing;” and, like the man after God’s heart, “to give herself unto prayer.”
Love to the whole word of God was also a prominent feature in her character. Indications of this holy pleasurable taste were visible in her childhood, in the large portions which she committed to memory. In an early excursion with one of her young friends, we find her reproaching herself for the small proportion of time which she had consecrated to the study of this precious volume. Whatever might be the ground for this self-accusation, it was however intended as a hint to her less thoughtful companion, and to introduce before her a plan that might be useful to them both — that of repeating portions of Scripture to each other when they met. Thus she made her own self-condemnation the vehicle of instruction to her friend. Generally speaking, she read the Sacred Book as a pleasure, not as a task. It seemed to be her constant food and study. She did indeed “esteem the words of God’s mouth more than her necessary food.” They “were found, and she did eat them; and they were to her as the joy and rejoicing of her heart.” They were to her what Melancthon calls ’ that sacred manna of the soul, to which St. Paul alludes, when he speaks of spiritually discerning’ the sacred pages. Often under protracted bodily and spiritual trials, the promises were to her “as cold waters to a thirsty soul;” yea, as “life from the dead.” So eager was her appetite for this heavenly manna, that, not satisfied with her own gathering, she was always longing to feed upon the fruits of the industry of her friends. Thus we have found her intreating her confidential correspondent to communicate to her any additional and interesting light which had been found in the course of her Scriptural research. Even in those seasons of special consecration just alluded to, when she found her mind indisposed for spiritual reading, she would still cleave exclusively to the Scriptures, and give up her time and mind to learning large portions of this holy book. It was her practice to read through different books of Scripture with a close and persevering habit of meditation and prayer, always keeping in mind her Master’s stimulating motive to the search — “For they are they which testify of me.” Hence she was delighted in the course of her study of the Book of Proverbs to have Christ so much and so frequently brought before her mind; a recollection of great moment for the spiritual discernment of the Divine wisdom treasured up in this store-house of practical instruction. The encouraging promise held out to diligent investigators of the Sacred Volume on one occasion fixed her in intense meditation for upwards of two hours. She appeared to be lost in astonishment and gratitude at the condescension and kindness of God, in giving, promise so rich, so free, so encouraging. She grasped it, as if determined not to let it go. She frequently employed herself in the profitable exercise of “comparing spiritual things with spiritual” — Scripture with itself; thus, making God his own interpreter.
Much light and heavenly unction she conceived herself to have obtained by this means, which were manifested to others, unconsciously to herself, in her striking remarks and apt illustrations of passages presented to her. The wholeness of her study already noticed is worthy of careful consideration. There was no exclusive regard or undue prominence given to portions of the sacred book. “All” was regarded as “given by inspiration of God,” and therefore profitable for the specific purposes for which it was written, and which it is the exercise of prayer and diligence to investigate.
But we will state her admirable views of the temper requisite for the study of the Sacred Book in her own words.
1 We shall never’ — she remarks — ’ become perfectly reconciled to all parts of the word of God, until He himself bestows on us the spirit and temper of a little child, to receive, without murmuring or disputings or carnal reasonings, whatsoever Jehovah the Spirit is pleased to say to us. That Spirit alone can take away the evil heart of unbelief, which prevents us from embracing the whole counsel of God, as revealed in his word. It is he that must open our hearts to attend to all the things written in his law. Then we shall perceive a connection and a harmony between every part and every doctrine of the Scriptures, which will fill us with ever-increasing wonder and delight.’
Her childlike simplicity was the spirit of the most profound reverence. It is most edifying to remark her humble adoring search into “the deep things of God,” as contrasted with the unhallowed boldness with which, these unfathomable depths are too often explored. After noticing objections to her views of the doctrine of election, she checks herself — 1 But I stop; “he that reproveth God, let him answer it.” All these mysteries can be accounted for only by referring them to the inscrutable mystery of God’s predestination. To the eye of carnal reason they lie involved in the thickest obscurity; but the eye of faith sees in them no darkness at all. For faith, instead of vainly striving to pull these things down to the level of reason, soars far above reason; resolves every difficulty into the gracious will or wise permission of God, and seeks to know no further. How many things are there which I know not, nor “can by” any “searching find out to perfection!” But Jesus knows them all. With this assurance I sit down fully satisfied. He will teach them to me hereafter, as I am able to bear it. In the meantime “I will trust, and not be afraid.” All that my God says to me I will implicitly believe, for I know that “every word of God is pure.” “All the words of his mouth are in righteousness: there is nothing froward or perverse in them: they are all plain to him that understandeth, and right to them that find knowledge.” When I come to see God as he is, and to “know even as also I am known,” I shall find that all these mysteries of his word and will were only ‘dark with excessive light.’ In the meantime, till I have the eagle eye that can gaze undazzled at his glories, I will view them at humble distance through the glass of faith which he has given me for this purpose; nor will I dare to repine, because I can only see them in a glass darkly. Thus faith removes every objection, stills every murmur, and silences every doubtful thought.’
This “trembling at God’s word,” is the spirit which our Lord “delighteth to honour” with special manifestations of his favour. “The secret of the Lord is with them that fear him; and he will show them his covenant.” This temper will stimulate to an earnest and diligent search; while it will repress a presumptuous intrusion. It will lead to the reception of every truth upon this formal reason — that it is the word of God. Every truth, though it should not be considered of equal importance, must be regarded with equal reverence; never fogetting that God is the author of every particle of revelation. Therefore to reject any one ‘jot or tittle of it’ — as Dr. Owen has excellently observed — ‘is a sufficient demonstration, that no one jot or tittle of it is received as it ought. Upon whatever this title and inscription is — ‘The word of Jehovah’ — there must we stoop and bow down our souls before it, and captivate our understandings to the obedience of faith.”
Her love for the ordinances of God — is worthy of special remark. And this indeed is the pulse of the soul — not attendance on them, but delight in them — fellowship with the panting desires of the holy Psalmist — when he envied even the birds who inhabited the pinnacles of the temple, and the priests who were always employed in its service; and for himself counted “a day spent in God’s courts better than a thousand” spent elsewhere. The house of God had been to her in the time of health “the gate of heaven.” In her time of affliction, ministers and ordinances were to her “wells of salvation,” from whence she “drew water with joy.” “Beautiful” in her eyes “were the feet of him that bringeth T good tidings, that publisheth peace.” She loved the messengers of the gospel “for their work’s sake,” and for their Master’s sake. She always expressed the deepest anxiety to receive through them “a message from God” to her soul. 1 Pray before, as well as after your visit,’ — was her solemn entreaty to her beloved minister.
We must not forget to mention her “love to the brethren” — that conscious and unequivocal mark of a transition “from death unto life.” She longed to see, converse, and enjoy fellowship with all who bore the image of her Lord; and whether absent or present, she seemed to hold communion with them. Speaking of an absent friend, who appeared to enjoy a deep sense of ’ the love of God upon her heart’ — she said — ‘I long to see her, that she may impart to me some spiritual gift.’ On this subject she appears to have been drawn out with remarkable warmth and liveliness of Christian feeling in her correspondence with her friends. To one of them she wrote thus — ‘It is a great honour for us, who have been made partakers of the tempter’s work, to be made partakers of the Saviour — for us who have been made a curse, to be made a blessing. But when I write to you in this way, it is not so much because I feel it, as because I want to feel it, and desire to be made the instrument of “stirring up this gift of God in you.” ’
What reader but must long to imbibe the blessed spirit of the two following letters 1
April 9, 1827. ‘I intreat you to think more of the privilege of intercession, and to make more use of it than ever. 1 find an indescribable delight in using these words — “Our Father” — and in praising, confessing, and praying for myself as one of this large family — in praying for myself as one with them, and in feeling their joys and sorrows as my own. And indeed if we wish above all things that the name of Jesus be glorified, is it not glorified in the spirituality of others as much as in our own 1 And if we wish to be one with Jesus, should we not be also one with his elect? Tell me your difficulties and necessities, that I may present them to Jesus with my own. I do not say this, because 1 think that I have the strength to do it. But Jesus, our God and our Lord (who is with me whilst I write, and who will be with you whilst you read this letter) has said to you and to me — “My grace is sufficient for you.V ‘Oh Lord Jesus! see what I have written, and show that I do not expect too much from thee. Cause every affection of ours to be absorbed in thee; and may all thy sheep love thee above all, and love one another as thou hast loved them!’ Say — Amen to this prayer. And if you wish to know what to ask for me, ask that a spirit of perfect love, “which seeketh not her own,” may be given me.’ Again, about a month after, to the same —
May 5, 1827.
‘I beseech you to seek earnestly “the communion of saints.” This is the only progress 1 have made in the Divine life. I have received as a most precious and unmerited gift the power of feeling, the things of the flock of Christ as if they were my own. You cannot imagine the happiness of this feeling. The means through which the Father has given it to me, has been the Lord’s prayer. I dedicate (not always, because I am so light and unstable, but generally) an hour every evening to prayer, and principally to intercession. I generally begin with the thanks due to God, for having made himself known to us as our Father, for all that he has done for every one of his sheep on that day. It is impossible for me to tell you the great delight of thus mixing myself up with the people of Christ, and of considering their benefits as my own. The thought which transports me the most, is that of how many souls have been perhaps this day joined to the church! how many succoured under temptation! how many recovered from their backslidings! how many filled with consolation! how many transported by death into the bosom of Christ! It delights me much also to consider that all the elect, who are not yet converted, have been and will be preserved, till they are called by the Divine Spirit. I then try to pray for that sweet “we,” and to think of the necessities of my Christian friends. Besides, I have a list of unconverted persons for whom I wish to pray. I do intreat you to study with prayer the thirteenth chapter of 1st Corinthians. I am most anxious that you should enjoy this happiness; and if you ask, you will do so.’
In the next letter we find her mind exercised upon this interesting subject.
‘It seemed to me when I last wrote to you, that the law of love to the brethren was engraven on my heart. But I feel little of it now. It was like writing on sand. Oh ’ that all the flock of Christ had more, very much more, of this law. O that thirteenth of Corinthians! Do read and pray over it. There is love — such love as we want — the whole law written in our hearts. I wish the Lord would give me to say something to stir you up to pray more for love; and then, when you are quite full of love, that he would make you the means of conveying it to me. I would have you pray over 1 John iv, 16 — 21, as well as 1 Cor. xiii. We must first “know and believe the love which God hath towards us.” That will make us love.’
To another beloved friend she expresses herself with similar warmth and intensity.
1 How shall I, who am so full of sin, think to say any thing that may be useful to you, my dear friend 1 Yet perhaps “the comfort, wherewith I have been comforted of .God,” in trying to spread your sorrows before him, may be communicated to your soul, while I am telling you of it; for — blessed be Jesus — we are all one — members of the same body. “It is given us in behalf of Christ to suffer” and rejoice with one another. When I was trying to pray, I endeavoured to think of a verse, which I might plead with God, and which might encourage myself. The Lord put this into my heart — “Neither pray I for these alone, but for them also, which shall believe on me through their word — {for us;) that they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in ws.” But oh! the comfort that filled my soul, when I thought Jesus had lifted up this prayer for you long before you were born! that he has had it in his heart for you (and for me too, and all God’s people, who all need it as much) ever since! that he is praying the same thing for us now! and finally, that “the Father heareth him always/” Therefore, the Father has heard, does hear, and will hear, this most gracious petition, which the Lord Jesus offered in the midst of his disciples, and which God the Spirit brought to their remembrance for our encouragement — “that we all may be one, as he is one with the Father.” Yes — and we all shall be one, though Satan and all his angels conspire to divide us. He can no more separate us from the love of one another, than he “can separate us from the love of Christ.” Truly, we have fellowship one with another; and “we know that we have passed from death unto life, because we love the brethren.” May you be enabled to use more boldness at the throne of grace, to “draw near in full assurance of faith,” and claim what Jesus, who cannot ask in vain, has asked of the Father for you — a full and abiding enjoyment of that love to the brethren — that fellowship — that oneness with the saints, which is just as much yours as Christ is yours! It is apart of your purchased possession; and nothing can keep you out of your right, but your own want of faith to plead that right with a God, who is more ready to give than we to ask.’
Would that these enlivening sentiments of Christian love were universally diffused! Our Lord’s wonderful prayer on this subject is indeed, as Miss Graham observes, an answered prayer — that is, in its incipient and progressive results. Yet, it is only a specimen of that intercession, with which he has pledged himself, that “for Zion’s sake he will not hold his peace, and for Jerusalem’s sake he will not rest,” until his Father shall make his “Jerusalem a praise in the earth.” The plenary blessing is yet in store for us. We want increased exertion and expectancy as a means of preparation for it. We want to change our indolent anticipation of this union perfected in heaven for the immediate personal exercises of faith, patience, forbearance, and humility, by which “our hearts may be knit together in love,” even in the midst of the incessant conflicts of the church; and we shall then be ready to help each other’s labours, and hail each other’s success.
The present aspect of the church is indeed most afflicting. We would not narrow the necessary breach between the church and the world by any compromise of principle or of conscience. But how painful is it to “see the breaches of the city of David, that they are many!” When will our Zion appear in “the perfection of beauty?” — as “a city compact together1?” “For the divisions of” one. tribe in Israel “there were great searchings of heart.” How careful, therefore, ought the scrutiny to be, when the evil spirit appears to be spreading throughout the whole camp! It is not an ideal prospect that we picture to our imagination — but that “good and pleasant sight” to behold of “brethren dwelling together in unity.” Such was the church in her primitive glory, when “the whole multitude of them that believed were of one heart and of one soul” — when ‘the church’ — as Chrysostom observes — ‘was a little heaven.’
The motives to attempt, as far as in us lies, the restoration of this glory to the church are most constraining — such as fellowt 2 ship with the spirit and prayer of our glorious Head — his honour in the world exalted by this heavenly spectacle — the Church in every part “edifying itself in love” — the Christian profession established — and the consoling privileges of the gospel manifested and enjoyed.
The strength to promote this union in the Church will be found in deep self-abasement and wrestling intercession with our God. Let us enter in the spirit of the earnest pleadings of the “man after God’s heart” for his people. “O God, thou hast cast us off; thou hast scattered us; thou hast been displeased; O turn thyself to us again. Thou hast made the earth to tremble; thou hast broken it; heal the breaches thereof, for it shaketh.” Impossible that “the Lord should” long “be angry against the prayer of his people!”
The Scriptural rules for maintaining this union are most simple and explicit. — “Whereunto we have already attained, let us walk by the same rule; let us mind the same thing.” “Him that is weak in the faith, receive” — not cast off. “We that are strong ought to bear the infirmities of the weak, and not to please ourselves.” These rules are enforced by the example, no less than by the authority of our gracious Head, and directed to the highest end — “Receive ye one another, as Christ also receiveth us, to the glory of GW.” Great indeed is the difficulty of holding conscientious differences in brotherly love. We are too apt to magnify the points of difference, while the due proportion of the points of agreement is somewhat obscured. We are more ready to dispute upon the points of controversy, than to strengthen each other in brotherly communion upon the principles of Christian love and unity. Thus our inordinate love of our own opinions leads us to press them beyond their legitimate bounds, and even beyond our sober intentions; and from this defect of connecting humility and forbearance with faith, many schisms arise in the body.
Would that there were among us one heart and one purpose, to exalt our Divine Master — to let every name be lost in his — to desire no name to be great but his! But the canker of the church is that party spirit — more or less common to all — which unites the several communities upon their own private grounds, instead of forming a rallying point for the whole body. A tame compromise of conscience is indeed greatly to be deprecated. Yet, unless private selfishness, (sometimes cloaking itself under the garb of conscience,) and party Shibboleths be merged in Christian love, no holybrotherly communion can exist. We do not expect brother to yield to brother, bat each to submit his conscience to his great ‘Head — each member to grow up into him, and to recollect, that he has some individual sentiment to forbear, from a considerate regard to the unity of the body. It seems to be forgotten, that Divine truth in all its parts and connections is fully revealed to none — that the degrees of attainment in Scriptural knowledge are indefinitely varied — that every difference in religion is not a different religion — that there is a want of perfection and singleness in the clearest eye, that is an inlet for the partial introduction of darkness — and that all of us are, more or less, criminally warped by the school in which we have been trained, by the atmosphere in which we live, or by the difference of our own tempers and habits of thinking. Hence it is evident, that a sincere reception of the first principles of the gospel lays a solid basis; and that in lesser points “forbearing one another in love,” is the only satisfactory means of “keeping the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” Indeed, ’ substantial harmony, combined with circumstantial variety,’ (as Paley remarks of the evidence of testimony) is the only practicable catholicity; and to attempt a more entire agreement injdetail would be a certain breach in the concord of the universal church. Yet, though unity of opinion is impracticable, unity of faith is to be constantly aimed at; and this may be consistent with a great diversity of individual character, and even with many shades of doctrinal differences.
But let us not be “ignorant of Satan’s devices.” Too successfully does he succeed by division among the friends of Christ, to prevent the united assault upon his own kingdom. Let us descend from our lesser disputes to the field of the conflict between the great powers of light and darkness, Let us “come to the help of the Lord — to the help of the Lord against the mighty.” The voice of God to his Church is — “Love the truth mid peace.” We love neither, if we love not both. If, in the professed cause of “truth” we tear the consciences of our brethren, and wound the “peace” of the Church, perhaps we may expect one common storm, one uniting bond of suffering — to be the Lord’s appointed means of humbling and chastising his Church, and accomplishing his gracious purposes by the instruments of his loving correction.