IL-WDodsonSc. ( AT THE AGE OF 17.) AtneTicaii Sunday School Uraon Philadelphia. MEMOIRS MAETHA LAURENS RAMSAY, WHO DIED IN CHARLESTON, S. C. ON THE 10th OF JUNE, 1811, IN THE 52d YEAR OF HER AGE. EXTRACTS FROM HER DIARY, LETTERS.. AND OTHER PRIVATE PAPERS. BY DAVID RAMSAY, M. D. The experimental part of religion has generally a greater influence than its theoi-y.— iir«. Howe's Posthuraowi Letter to Dr. Watts. EEVISED BY THE COMMITTEE OF PUBLICATION OF THE AMEBICAJf SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION PHILADELPHIA: AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, NO. 146 CHESTJSTJT STREET. //4/- T>;, IB Entered according to act of Congress, in the year 1845, by the American Sunday-school Union, in the clerk's office of the District Court of the Eastern District of Pennsylvania. ^- 12 4 \|kV PREFACE. The manuscripts which gave rise to this publication were found among the private papers of their author, Martha Laurens Ramsay, after her death, and were unseen by every 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 designated the drawer in which they were deposited, 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 perusal, to be well cal- culated to excite serious impressions fa- PREFACE. vourable to the interests of religion ; for they were a practical, experimental com- ment on its nature and salutary effects, even in this life ; its tendency to promote human happiness, and its sovereign efficacy to tranquillize the mind and administer con- solation under afflictions, disappointments and trials. They exhibited an example which teaches more compendiously and forcibly than precept the value of piety and the comfort of submission to the will of God. In this view of the subject, it be- came an interesting inquiry, how far it would be proper to withhold 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. Hol- linshead and Keith, under whose ministry the writer of the private papers, now pub- lished, had sat upward of tvventy years, PREFACE. 5 and to whom she was intimately know^n. They strongly recommended the publica- tion as well calculated to do good. Their opinions, and the reasons of them, were given in the subjoined letters.* * A letter from the Rev. Dr. Hollinshead to Dr. David Ramsay. Charleston, S. C. July 1, ISll. Deak Sir : — The perusal of our much esteemed Mrs. Ramsay's papers, has awakened in me many pleasing, though painful reflections. The loss of such a friend, and such a member of our church, is unspeakable. Her example, while she abode with us, was a living lecture on the importance of the human 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 impressed with the great realities of its eternal interests, truly solicitous 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 publication of these devout exercises of her heart, with a sketch of her life, might con- tribute much to the establishment and comfort of many pious exercised Christians, who walk in fear 1^ PREFACE. In publishing to the world the private religious exercises of an individual, it seemed a thing of course that some ac- and darkness, for want of knowing how others have been affected in scenes of trial like their own. It would be read with interest and improve- ment by Christians in every situation, whether of prosperity or affliction. It would be peculiarly gratifying to a numerous circle, to whom every memorial of their beloved departed friend will be precious. In presenting it to the community, which I think no person can so well do as your- self, you will perform an interesting and acceptable duty to society, and embalm, at the same time, the virtues and the memory of a most amiable Chris- tian. Your undertaking this will gratify many others as well as. Dear sir, your truly sympathizing and affectionate friend, W. HOLLIXSKEAD. A Utter from the Rev. Dr. Keith to Dr. David Rufyisay. Charleston, S. C, June 28, 1811. Dear Sir: — The manuscripts which you were so good as to leave with me, I now return with my cordial thanks for the favour of having them sub- mitted to my perusal. PRE FACE. 7 count of that individual should be given at the same time ; for, without some such knowledge, many of the reflections of the I have read them with that close attention, with that lively interest, with that melancholy pleasure, which have been naturally excited by the circum- stance of their relating to a person who stood high in my esteem and regards as a Christian and a friend while living, and whose precious memory my heart is disposed ever to cherish with the ten- derest mingled emotions of affection and regret. From the earliest period of my acquaintance with Mrs. Ramsay, I have considered her as a lady of a very superior mind; of dispositions eminently benevolent, friendly, and generous ; and of those various and valuable accomplishments which could be derived only from the best education, from an assiduous attention to the most proper and effectual means of improvement, and from a long and intimate intercourse with many of the first characters in her native country and in Europe. She was, however, still 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 ex- hibited, in the view of all attentive and judicious observers, a bright and attractive example of the 8 PREFACE. writer would be comparatively uninterest- ing, if not unintelligible. It was there- fore resolved to prefix to the manuscripts temper and conduct of a real Christian. But it re- quired that delineation of the sentiments, feelings, and exercises of her heart, which her own pen has drawn, for her own use in her most secret trans- actions with her Saviour and her God, to enable even her most intimate friends to see her character displayed in its brightest and most amiable beau- ties : in her deep and unaffected humility ; in her undissembled and uncommon sense of sinfulness and un worthiness ; in her remarkable self-denial in respect to worldly interests and enjoyments ; in her strong and steadfast faith, trust, and hope, and quiet, sweet resignation, under the most painful disappointments, afflictions, and trials ; in the fer- vour 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 their respective circumstances, and in the ardour of her affections, especially to her own family and peculiar friends, expressed in her many prayers for them, and her often renewed solemn resolutions to do every thing within her power, by a conscien- tious, faithful, cheerful performance of every per- sonal, relative, and religious duty, for promoting PREFACE. some general account of the author, as far as was necessary to throw light on their contents. The publication of these private their temporal, spiritual, and eternal interests and happiness. Truly, "her walk was close with God," and "her light shone brightly before men." The impressions made on my mind by the perusal of these Memoirs of Mrs. Ramsay, and extracts from her Diary, &c., 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 volume would be a most welcome and precious memorial of what she was in her- self, and of what she was to them ; while to an extensive circle of readers, fond of books of this description, it v/ould afford the desirable means of becoming acquainted with the excellent and ami- able character, with the eminent Christian virtues and attainments, of one who adorned every rela- tion which she sustained, and filled with dignity and usefulness every sphere of life in which she moved. 10 PREFACE. papers was the original design, the publi- cation of the life of their author only se- condary and incidental, as an introduction Thus, " she being dead, would continue to speak" forcibly and persuasively, it is hoped, to the children of the world, in favour of the divine and blessed Saviour, to whom she lived and died; and more especially to the disciples and friends of this Saviour, she would speak with the best effect in the way of instruction, encouragement and con- solation, relative to the various scenes of duty and trial, in which they may be called to be followers of her, and of all like her, " who, through faith and patience, inherit the promises." Under the influence of these and similar reasons, you will, I trust, yield to the call of duty, and con- sider yourself as rendering an important service to the public, and a due tribute of praise to the God of all grace, by consenting to publish these valuable papers as soon as may be practicable. In all Christian regards, including a tender sym- pathy towards yourself and your dear children, under every trial, and especially under this pecu- liarly heavy affliction, Mrs. K. cordially joins with, Dear sir, your sincere and affectionate friend, Isaac S. Keith. PREFACE. 11 to the effusions of her heart, which had been 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 connections and friends of their author, the same lively sentiments of fervent rational piety with which she was animated. David Ramsay. Charleston, S. C, July 15, 1811. MEMOIRS. Martha Laurens Ramsay was born in Charleston, S. C, on the 3d of November, 1759. She was the daughter of Henry Lau- rens and of Eleanor Ball, and was born in the ninth year after their marriage. By the father's side she was of French extraction. Her great-grand-parents were born in Ro- chelle, and suffered in the famous siege of that place. They were Huguenots or Protestants."^'" Being, by the revocation of the edict of Nantz, compelled to leave their native country, they came to America in the latter end of the seventeenth century. Her maternal ancestors emigrated from Devonshire in England, and settled in South Carolina about the same time. In the first year of her hfe she had the smallpox so severely that she was supposed to be dead, and upon that supposition her body * A history of this interesting people has been pre- pared and published by the American Sunday-school Union. 2 13 14 M E M I R S O F was actually laid out preparatory to her fune- ral. It was placed by an open window, and Dr. Moultrie coming in, pronounced her to be still alive, — probably revived by the fresh air. Under other circumstances she would shortly have been buried, as was then commonly done with persons who died of the smallpox in that year of extensive mortality. A valu- able life was thus providentiallj' saved for future usefulness. Martha Laurens early discovered a great capacity and eagerness for learning. In the course of her third year she could readily read any book, and, what is extraordinary, she could read it in an inverted position, Avithout any difficulty. As very trivial circumstances in one's childhood serve to show the disposi- tions and habits which afterwards appear in the outline of the mature character, we cannot refrain from recording the following anecdote. Martha was walking with a httle cousin of hers, when they came to a wet place which was too wide for them to jump over. As they stood consulting together — half disappointed and half glad at their dilemma — a sailor ap- peared. At that time children had a dreadful MRS. RAMSAY. 15 idea of sailors, (perhaps from the popular stories of impressments and piracies which were then so current,) and when the two little girls saw a sailor coming towards them, they were not a little alarmed. He very kindly took Martha up and carried her quietly across the wet place, for which service she cur- tesied and thanked him. He then went back for the other little girl, but before she was half over she cried and struggled with so much violence that the sailor took her back, and left her where she was at first. There she stood lamenting her folly until help came from an- other quarter. Good manners never fail to secure the respect and friendship of others. An amusing incident, which occurred when she was but three or four 3rears old, serves to show how much mischief and suffering may result from a single act of indiscretion or in- justice in a teacher: — The mistress of the school to which Martha was sent, was an ill-natured, waspish person, and one day in a moment of irritation she took her doll away and threw it out at the window. The little girl was of course much grieved at this treatment, and took it so much to heart 16 MEMOIRS OF that she could not, for a long time, approach the woman, or even hear her name without crying. Not being disposed to tell why she cried on these occasions, she was accustomed to say — " I am crying because sister Nelly's dead ;" this was a sister she had lost some time before the affair at school. Miss Laurens often said, in after-life, that it gave her great sorrow to think how often she had told this untruth. So common was it that it grew into a proverb among her playmates, when any one cried without knowing exactly for what, to say — She is crying for sister Nelly. In youth her vivacity and spirits were exu- berant. Feats of activity, though attended with personal danger, w^ere to her famihar ; great exertions of bodily labour ; romantic pro- jects ; excesses of the wildest play were pre- ferred to stagnant life ; but from all these she could be turned off in a moment to serious business. As she grew up, the same activity was exerted in acquiring the useful and orna- mental parts of female education. She very soon obtained a grammatical knowledge of the French language ; a considerable eminence MRS. RAMSAY. 17 in reading, writing, arithmetic, English gram- mar, geography, and the use of the globes. She even acquired a considerable acquaintance with geometry* and mo.thematical science. At the same time she was indefatigable in cultivating an acquaintance with books ; and, by means of abridging, transcribing, and com- mitting to memory, was very successful in retaining much of what she read. In accom- plishments and the ornamental parts of educa- tion, she excelled, and in the exercise of them took great delight. In the eleventh year of her age she sus- tained an immense loss by the death of her excellent mother ; but this was in some mea- sure made up by the maternal care of her good aunt,- Mary Laurens, the wife of James Laurens, whose sound judgment, refined man- ners, and eminent piety, well fitted her for * Among her private papers has been found, accu- rately drawn by her hand, the first plan of the present circular church, in the city of Charleston, but without the western projection afterward added by others. This preceded the elegant plan of the ingenious architect, Mr. Mills, and was introductory to the motion which ultimately terminated in the adoption of the circular form. 2* 18 MEMOIRSOF training up her orphan niece for both worlds. To her care, and to that of his brother, Henry Laurens committed the charge of his two daughters, while he went to superintend the education of his sons in Europe. There he continued till the end of the year 1774, when love for his country brought him back to its defence against the aggressions of Britain. Thus, while God in his providence deprived Miss Laurens of the instructions and example of her natural mother, He raised up another friend, who performed the maternal duties with signal capacity, fidehty and affection. Though she was deprived of the company of her wase and virtuous father, for almost the whole of that interesting period, which ex- tended from the eleventh to the twenty-second year of her age, she continued to receive let- ters from him. As a specimen of the style of this correspondence, we insert one or two of the letters addressed to her when she was twelve years of age : " Philadelphia, August IS, 1771. "ilij/ dear est P at sy,^ remember my precepts ; be dutiful, kind, and good to your aunt ; learn * Or Patty, a familiar substitute for Martha. MRS. RAMSAY. 19 to prevent (or anticipate) all her wishes and. commands ; you can do so if you please. God has blessed you with sufficient abilities. Let all your reading, your study, and your practice tend to make you a wise and a virtuous woman, rather than a fine lady ; the former character always comprehends the latter ; but the modern fine lady, according to common acceptation, is too often found to be deficient both in wisdom and virtue. Strive, then, my dearest girl, to be virtuous, dutiful, affable, courteous, modest ; and be assured that you will become a fine lady. Set God before your eyes, my dear child ; pray to him ; place your whole confidence in him, and strive to do his will ; so shall you never be dismayed." " Wfstminster, May 18, 1774. " My dear Patsy., — I have recollected your request for a pair of globes ; therefore, I have wrote to Mr. Grubb to ship a pair of the best eighteen inch, with caps and a book of direc- tions, and to add a case of neat instruments, and one dozen Middleton's best pencils, mark- ed M. L., directed to your uncle, who will deliver them to you. When you are measur- ing the surface of this world, remember you 20 MEMOIRSOF are to act a part on it, and think of a plum- pudding, and other domestic duties." The pleasantry about the plum-pudding had its effect. Miss Laurens made a pudding before she began to make use of her globes, and profited by the hint, that the knowledge of housewifery was as much a part of female education, as a knowledge of geography. These paternal instructions were calculated to forward the virtuous education of a beloved daughter, growing up with fair prospects of an ample fortune ; but in and after 1775, he Avarned her of the probability that his estate would be forfeited, and that her father and brother in arms would lose their lives, and that she must prepare to maintain herself by her own exertions. The reasons of these ap- prehensions, and the deportment which he wished her to maintain, should they be real- ized, will be seen in the following letters : — " Charleston, S. C, Feb. 29, 1776. " My dear Dcmghter, — When I look around me and behold increasing preparations for civil war ; every man seeming bent and determined to carry those preparations into execution to the last extremity ; when, therefore, I consider MRS. RAMSAY. 21 our estates in this country as being on the very precipice of bankruptcy, how can I for- bear lamenting, what will become of my dear sister, what will become of my dear Patsy and Polly, 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 care of them — that God who led your ancestors through a cruel persecution, and through a wilderness a hundred years ago, and you through ten thousand dangers, will not forsake your sister nor your children. Your brother will do well, and be made the guardian of your fatherles-s children after you are slaughtered.' My dear child, I could fill pages with accounts of causes for lamentation ; but alas, what good fruit would such accounts produce ; I will not grieve your young heart by a recital of afflictions which are the por- tion of age, and which I ought to bear alone. Nevertheless, it is my duty to warn you again, as I 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 22 MEMOIRSOr it be a subject for grief or not, will, according to present appearances, be your portion. My love for you constrains me to give you timely notice. I have done so with an aching heart and overflowing eyes. Methinks 1 hear you reply, ' But, my dear papa, why will yoti make a sacrifice of your fortune, and hazard the happiness 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 England, is devoted to the service of your uncle, aunt, our brothers, yourself and sister. I 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 elder brother and you, to consume as little as possi- MRS. RAMSAY. 33 ble, in order that there may be more for the service of your dear imcie and aunt, and for the little ones who cannot help themselves. It would please me, it would rejoice me, to hear that you had cheerfully entered upon your new scene of life ; that you earned as much every day by your needle as would pay your daily expenses." " Charleston, S. C, Aug. 17, 1776. " My dear Daughter, — Your brother will tell you a great deal of American news, and particularly of the escape we have had from enemies who talked of nothing less than eat- ing us up. "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. I pray God to raise up wiser 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 24 MEMOIRSOF anybody, 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 future progress and final determination to the wise order of that superintending Being, who holds the scales of justice in his hand ; who never fails to help those who confide in him and do right ; who hath set bounds to the bared arm of the mightiest monarch on earth, as he hath to the seemingly irresistible power of the ocean. ' Hitherto shalt thou come, and here shall thy proud waves be stayed.' 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 5''0U will lament that it is your father's unhappy lot to be en- gaged in war, in civil war, God's severest scourge upon mankind. "I have no doubt, my dear daughter, but that you will take every advantage which the country you are in affords for the improve- ment of your mind and your address. The latter is of more importance to a lady than is M R S. R A M S A Y. 25 sometimes thought ; to you in particular your friends should recommend it. God knows through what scenes you are to pass. If, in- stead of affluence, (of which you had lately a prospect, and to which you have still a just claim,) if servitude is to be your portion, quahfy yourself for an upper place. Fear not servitude, encounter it if it shall be ne- cessary, with a spirit becoming a woman of an honest and a pious heart ; a woman who has not been affectedly nor fashionably religious. " I need not tell you to be dutiful to your uncle and aunt ; to love and reverence them as tender parents. They may be reduced to very great straits. There my heart is most wrung ; but I must forbear ; the subject over- powers me ; God, in whom 1 trust, will pro- tect you all. Adieu, my dear daughter ; write as often as you can, and in some measure les- sen the anxiety which arises from the uncer- tainty of your being restored to your faithful friend, your affectionate father, Henry Laurens." These anticipations were not fully realized, but the expectation of them had a direct ten- 3 26 MEMOIRS OF dency to assist in forming the solid education of the person to whom they were addressed. Miss Laurens, in her twelfth year, began to be the subject of serious religious impressions. She was well instructed in the great gospel mystery of salvation by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ for the sins of the world. And there is good reason to believe, that at a very early period she was brought by the grace of God cordially to accept of salvation freely offered, though dearly purchased. In the fifteenth year of her age, in conform- ity 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 propriety, "A self-dedication and solemn covenant with God." In the Old Testament, we several times read of the rulers, priests, and people among the Jews solemnly covenanting before God, to renounce their transgressions and to adhere to his service. In the ninth and tenth chapters of Nehemiah there is a particular ac- count of a covenant to this effect, drawn up in writing, and ratified by the names and seals of the persons who consented to it. Whether MRS. RAMSAY. 27 in addition to these examples from Holy Writ, and the recommendation of Dr. Doddrids"e, there were any particular circumstances, which, at that time, induced Miss Laurens to enter into this written engagement to be the Lord's, is unknown. It is believed that she kept the transaction secret from all the world, and that the paper in question, now thirt}^- seven years old, was never seen by any hu- man being before her death.* At the time of * The original writing is preserved in the family, and IS naturally regarded with much interest. We copy it for the benefit of those who may not have access to such a form of self-dedication. "Thursday, Dec. 23, 1773. " Being tJds day fourteen 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 strength, my soul, with all I have, and all I am, to the service of that great and good God, who has preserved and kept me all my hfe until now, and who in infinite compassion has given me to see the folly of my ways, and by faith to lay hold on a dear Redeemer, and obtain peace to my soul through his precious blood. Martha Laurens. " A self-dedication and solemn covenant with God. " Eternal and unchangeable Jehovah ! Thou great Creator of Heaven and Earth ! and adorable Lord of 28 MEMOIRSOF the execution of this writing, she was in the very spring-time of life — in possession of ail the comforts which wealth could bestow, and angels and men, I desire, with the deepest humihation and abasement of soul, to fall down at this time in thine awful presence, and earnestly pray that thou wilt penetrate my very heart and soul with a suitable sense of thine unutterable and inconceivable glories ! Trem- bhng may justly lay hold upon me when I, a sinful worm, presume to lift up my head to thee, presume to appear in thy majestic presence on such an occasion as this. Who am I, O Lord God, or what is my house ? What is my natui'e or descent, my character and de- sert, that I should speak of this, and desire that I may be one party in a covenant, where thou, the King of kings and Lord of lords, art the other. I blush and am confounded, even to mention it before thee. But, O Lord, great as is thy majesty, so also is thy mercy. If thou wilt hold converse with any of thy creatures, thy superlatively exalted nature must stoop, must stoop infinitely low ; and I know that in and through Jesus the Son of thy love, thou condescendest to visit sinful mortals, and to allow their approach to thee, and their covenant intercourse with thee. Nay, I know that the scheme and plan is thine own, and that thou hast gra- ciously 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 actually proposed. To thee, therefore, do I now come, invited by the name of thy Son, and trusting in his righteousness and grace : lay- MRS. R A M S A Y. 29 had as brilliant prospects before her as any of her sex in Carolina. The only serious afflic- tion she had then met with, was the loss of ing myself at thy feet with shame and confusion of face, and smiting upon my breast, I say with the hum- ble publican, ' God be merciful to me a sinner.' I acknowledge, Lord, I have been a great transgressor. My sins have reached unto heaven, and mine iniquities are lifted up unto the skies. The irregular propensities of my corrupt and degenerate nature have, in ten thou- sand aggravated instances, wrought to bring forth fruit unto death. And if thou shouldst be strict to mark mine offences, I must be silent under a load of guilt, and immediately sink into destruction. But thou hast graciously called me to return unto thee, though I have been a wandering sheep, a prodigal daughter, a back- sliding child. Behold, therefore, O Lord, I come un- to thee. I come, convinced not only of my sin but of my folly. I come, from my very heart ashamed of my- self, 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 remember against me my sins and my transgressions. Permit me, Lord ! to bring back unto thee those powers and faculties, which I have ungratefully and sacrilegiously alienated from thy service, and receive, I 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 to be truly thine ! Blessed God ! it is with the utmost solemnity that I make this surren- 3* 30 M E M I R S O F her mother. This had taken place three years and seven months before, and the keen sensations occasioned thereby must, in the or- der of myself to thee. Hear, O heavens ! and give ear, O earth ! I avouch the Lord to be my God. I avouch and declare myself this day, to be one of his covenant people. Hear, O thou God of heaven ! and record it in the book of thy remembrance, that hence- forth I am thine, entirely thine. I would not merely consecrate unto thee some of my powers, or some of my possessions, or give thee a certain proportion of my services, or all I am capable of for a hmited time ; but I would be wholly thine, and thine for ever. From this day do I solemnly renounce all the former lords which have had dominion over me ; every sin and every lust, and bid in thy name an eternal defiance to 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, all the members of my body, would I present before thee this day, as a living sacrifice, holy and ac- ceptable unto God, which I know to be my most rea- sonable service. To thee I consecrate all my worldly possessions ; in thy service I desire to spend all the re- mainder of my time upon earth, and beg thou wouldst instruct and influence me so that, whether my abode here be longer or shorter, every year and month, day and hour, may be used in such a manner as shall most effectually promote thine honour, and subserve the scheme of thy wise and gracious providence ; and I MRS. RAMSAY. 31 dinary course of things, have been nearly- worn off by time. The engagements thus solemnly entered into by Miss Laurens were earnestly pray that whatever influence thou givest me over others, in any of the superior relations of hfe in which I may stand, or in consequence of any pecuhar regard which might be paid me, thou wouldst give me strength and courage to exert myself to the utmost for thy glory. Resolving, not only that I will do it my- self, but that all others, so far as I can rationally and properly influence them, shall serve the Lord. In this course, O blessed God ! would I steadily persevere to the very end of my life, earnestly praying, that every future day of it may supply the deficiencies and correct the irregularities of the former, and that I may, by divine grace, be enabled, not only to hold on in that happy way, but daily to grow more active in it. " Nor do I only consecrate all that I am and have to thy service, but I also most humbly resign and submit to thy heavenly will, myself and all that I can call mine. I leave, O Lord, to thy management and di- rection all I possess and all I wish ; and set every en- joyment and every interest before thee, to be disposed of, as thou pleasest. Continue, or remove what thou hast given me ; bestow or refuse, what I imagine I want, as thou, Lord, shalt see good ; and though I dare not say I will never repine, yet I hope I may venture to say, that I will labour not only to submit but to ac- quiesce ; 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 that thou 32 M E M I R S F in unison with her subsequent conduct through hfe. Of the sincerity of the transaction, on her part, on a view of all its circumstances, no doubt can exist. appointest, my will into thine, and looking on myself as nothing, and on thee, O God I as the great eternal all, whose word ought to determine every thing, and whose government ought to be the joy of the whole rational creation. "Use me, Lord, I beseech thee, as the instru- ment of thy glory, and honour me so far, as either by doing or suflering what thou shalt appoint, to bring some revenue of praise to thee, and of benefit to the world in which I dwell; and may it please thee, O my Creator! from this day forward, to number me among thy peculiar people, that I may no more be a stranger and foreigner, but a fellow-citizen with the saints, and of the household of God. Receive, O heavenly Father ! thy returning prodigal. Wash me in the blood of thy dear Son , clothe me with his per- fect righteousness, and sanctify me throughout by the power of thy Spirit ! Destroy, I beseech thee, more and more the power of sin in my heart ! Transform me more into thine own image, and fashion me to the resemblance of Jesus, whom henceforward I would acknowledge as my teacher, and my sacrifice, my in- tercessor, and my Lord ! Communicate to me, I be- seech thee, all needful influences of thy purifying, thy cheering, and thy comforting Spirit ; and lift up the light of thy countenance upon me, which will put the subliniest joy and gladness into my soul. MRS. RAMSAY. 33 In the year 1775, James Laurens, his wife and two nieces, Martha Laurens and Mary Eleanor Laurens, (afterward the wife of Charles "Dispose my affairs., O 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 eternity, I may remember these my engagements to thee, and may employ my latest breath to thy service ; and do thou, O Lord, when thou seest the agonies of dissolving nature upon me, remember this covenant too, even though I should then be incapable of recollecting it. Look down, O my heavenly Father, with a pitying eye upon thy languishing, dying child : place thine everlasting arms underneath me for my support ; put strength and confidence into my departing spirit ; and receive it ta the embraces of thy everlasting love ! Welcome it to the abodes of them that sleep in Jesus ; to wait with them that glorious day, when the last of thy promises to thy covenant people shall be fulfilled in their triumphant resurrection, and that abundant en- trance, which shall be administered to them into that everlasting kingdom, of which thou hast assured them in thy covenant, and in the hope of which I now lay hold of it, desiring to live and to die as with my hand on that hope ! " And when I am thus numbered among the dead, and all the interests of mortality are over with me for ever, if this soleron memorial should chance to fall into 34 MEMOIRSOr Pinc]vne3%) went to Enorland. Martha Laurens was received on her landing- by her elder bro- ther, John Laurens, from whom she had been the hands of any surviving friends, may it be the means of making serious impressions on their mind. May they read it not only as my language, but as their own ; and learn to fear the Lord my God, and with me to put their trust under the shadow of his wings for time and for eternity ; and may they also learn to adore with me that grace which inclines our heart to enter into the covenant, and condescends to admit us into it, when so inclined ; ascribing with me and with all the children of God, to the Father, 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 he bears in this illustrious work. Amen. " Lord I am thine, for ever thine, My soul doth cleave to thee ; My dearest Lord, be ever mine, I '11 have no love but thee. " Henceforth I am not mine, but God's for ever. "Martha Laurens. "I had fallen, shamefully fallen, and broken the solemn covenant engagements in so dreadful a man- ner, that none but lie who is holy and true, who hath the key of all hearts, who openeth and no man shut- teth, 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 ingrati- tude ; made to feel more bitter pangs than ever ; and M R S. R A M S A Y. 35 for some years separated. Being older, he had taken great dehght in forwarding her edu- cation, and particularly in forming her mind to be superior to the common reverses of life, and the groundless fears of some of her sex. To ascertain whether his labors had been suc- cessful or not, he bribed the postilion to drive very rapidly, and at the same time, without discovering his views, narrowly watched her countenance, to observe w^hether there were any changes in it expressive of womanish fears, at the novel scene, so totally different from all her former travelhng in the low, flat, stoneless country of Carolina. On the termi- nation of the experiment to his satisfaction, he announced to his unsuspecting sister his con- gratulations, that "he had found her the same Spartan girl he had left her." after much struggling and many entreaties from my compassionate Redeemer, I renewed my violated vows in the most solemn manner, not only privately, but pubhcly, by giving up myself to him in the ordinance of the Holy Supper, before near three hundred persons at St. Werbrough's, December 25, 1775. " Solemnly again, April 7, 1776, and more solemnly and with more affecting circumstances than ever, May 26, 1776." 86 M E M I R S F In 1775, when Miss Laurens left America, she destroyed all her private papers, (as it was supposed,) except the act of self-dedication, just mentioned. These were numerous, though the last of them were written before she had completed 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 re- gretted, but consented to it, from the prospect of an itinerant life, during her exile from home, and still more, from the unsettled state of her native country on the commencement of the revolutionary war. These papers, as above in- timated, were supposed to have been destroyed, but it seems that some portion of them were committed to Mrs. Elizabeth Brailsford, an intimate friend of hers in England ; to whom apphcation was made for them. In her reply to the application, Mrs. Brailsford says of the manuscript — " They were given me many years since, by my late much loved friend, dear Mrs. Ramsay ; but under such injunc- tions that no human eye but my own should ever see them, that I never thought myself at M R S. R A M S A Y. 37 liberty to show them, even to my beloved mo- ther, and I can scarcely think myself justified in doing what I now do. Yet the very close relation in which you were united to her, makes me particularly anxious to comply with your request ; and I trust if her pure and highly exalted spirit now beholds me, she does not disapprove this act." As these religious exercises and devout me- ditations furnish the best evidence of the state of her mind at that most interesting period, between the sixteenth and nineteenth years of her life, we insert them here, although they will interrupt the narrative for a few moments. I. Self-abasement, with Resolutions to Walk more worthily. What a poor, lukewarm, unprofitable, un- worthy disciple am 1 ! How cold and deficient my duty toward God. How mingled with sin my charity toward men. Well may I cry out for quickening grace and plead for sanctification. When shall my light shine be- fore men, and the gospel be glorified by my con- 4 38 MEMOIRSOF duct. Oh how unlike I am the blessed Jesus, my Redeemer and my pattern. His blessed feet were continually 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 hardly bear the review of my most exemplary days. My past life has been one continued course of impiety, and ray most [holy things have been unrighteous. What shall I say then, or whither shall I flee for mercy, but to the great atonement; to the blood of the Redeemer, by which alone 1 can obtain forgiveness for the iniquities which I have committed in thought, word, and deed. Oh that from this time forward I may be more zealous in the service of my God, and walk more worthy the vocation wherewith I am called ; adorn- ing the doctrines of God, my Saviour, in all things, and having my outward behaviour strongly expres- sive of the inward state of my mind ; not making the customs and manners of a corrupt and sinful world the rule by which I walk; but trying myself by the New Testament, the words of Jesus, and the divinely inspired apostles; and living with a constant regard to death and judgment. How short is time I How long is eternity I yet, alas, how is my mind occupied by the things of time, how careless of the things of eternity. Now, dear Jesus, show thyself with power, and work a great deliverance for me, that in thee I may become M R S. R A M S A Y. 39 strong-, and have fortitude to walk contrary to the way of the world ; to take up my cross and follow thee. Amen. II. A Day well spent. Blessed be God for this day's entertainment. How sweet is the society of lively Christians, when we meet together and spend the hours, not in idle chit-chat about dress or weather or such un- profitable themes, but in mutual exhortation or en- couragement. How comfortably have I passed this day. In the morning I was at the sanctuary, heard the word of salvation, and sat with pleasure under the teaching of the gospel. When I returned, 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 delight- ful subject, talked of redeeming love and Christian meekness ; and again this evening met with ac- quaintance of the same mind, and renewed the de- lightful converse, and now, at night, I have been blessed in my retirement, and had great enlarge- ment in prayer both alone and with my servant. I cannot 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 40 MEMOIRSOF 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 being, I will sing praises to my God^ My heart is fixed, O God ! my heart is fixed, and through time and eternity 1 shall he thus employed ; sing- ing songs of everlasting triumph and loud hallelu- jahs to the slain Lamb, the purchaser of all our hopes, and ground of our rejoicing. in. Preparai^on for an Hour of Trial. I AM now going into gay, worldly, and, I even fear, that I shall meet with profane company. Oh that through grace I may have courage to show a becoming spirit, and, remembering the honourable name which I bear, may I not be ashamed to act as a Christian, 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 know- ledge 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 hu- mility. Show me the effectual moments, the pro- per opportunities for speaking in defence of the gospel, for glorifying the name of Jesus, and give MRS. RAMSAY. 41 me a heart to embrace them. Let not the fear of singularity make me a babbler; but if I can bear no innocent and useful part in conversation, keep me silent. Let the remembrance of my solemn vows be ever before me, and enable me, this day, to stand fast in the covenant of Christ, joyfully confessing him before men. Hear me, God ! for thy mercy's sake, and have pity on a poor frail creature. IV. Jin Jld of Conirilion with Hopes of Restoration to Divine Favour. I HAD fainted unless 1 had believed to see the good- ness of the Lord. My feet had wellnigh slipped, and I was bowed down with sorrow. Satan has distressed me with his vile suggestions. Doubts and fears have perplexed me, and I have been sore oppressed by my corruptions ; yet blessed be my compassionate High-Priest, my merciful Saviour, who hears me from the very depths of wo, and though I am now in darkness, gives me hope that I shall still see him; that his mercy is not clean gone for ever; but that I shall yet rejoice in the Lord, and go forth with strength, conquering and to conquer. I now sigh and mourn before him, because of my transgressions, which have sepa- rated between me and my God. I cry out with 4* 42 MEMOIRSOF earnestness, How long, O Lord, how long. "When shall I see thee as I have seen thee in the sanctu- ary. When shall my prayer be heard, and I be permitted again to attend thee in the sanctuary. When wilt thou visit me with the gracious visits of thy love. When shall I enjoy thy glories, thy gracious, thy refreshing, comforting presence, as I have heretofore done when the candle of the Lord shone "bright 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. I can- not forget these times, these seasons of inexpressi- ble rejoicing; and as the thirsty hart panteth for the reviving stream, so panteth my soul after thee, even after thee, the living 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 rays of his countenance ; grieved the Holy Spirit, and made my beloved to depart from me, and leave me thus comfortless. His love is still the same; but I have changed ! I have grown lukewarm and care- less ; I have backslidden, and wandered in the ways of folly; I have been idle, and have not im- proved the means of grace. I have been self-in- dulgent, and allowed the flesh too much of its own way. I have not been so watchful as I ought. With shame and confusion of face do I reflect on M R S. R A M S A Y. 43 and confess these things; and with the deepest self-abasement cast myself at the foot 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 sinner, a grievous sinner ; my crimes are of the deepest dye, and my sins of more than scarlet hue ; I am the most ungrateful crea- ture in the whole house; yet may I not hope for mercy, and still plead the merits of that Saviour I have so basely injured? I can offer no argument 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 despair; but humbly trust that there is forgiveness with him, and that I shall be again admitted into communion with my dear Lord, and tied so fast to him as to have no power to depart. V. Preparation for Self-examination. I DESIRE now to try myself; to search my spirit; and, therefore, 1 devote this week, through God's grace, to extraordinary retirement, prayer, fasting, and meditation ; if so be that the Lord will be gracious, and assist me in my self-examination and devotion, and re-visit me with his free salvation. Without Christ I can do nothing; I therefore cast myself at his feet, and beg him to strengthen and 44 MEMOIRSOF direct, and so to lead me through the rugged road of life, that I may at length obtain the full fruition of immortal bliss, and be made partaker of never- ending glory ; though now I have my gloomy fears, and pass through dangerous deeps, and dis- mal snares. VI. Longing for Death. Death, where is thy sting? Grave, where is thy victory 1 To me thou 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 ; it is but a little while since, and I could not 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 beloved in the long- ing of desire, Come quickly, come quickly, for I long to be with thee. How slow the minutes roll ; how leisurely the hours move, which keep me from my God. " 1 long for evening to undress." I long, earnestly long, for the day of my dissolution, which will deliver my imprisoned soul from its confinement, and leave it free from every clog of flesh and sense. Each change in my spiritual life increases this ardent longing. Is the sky clear, and does the sun shine bright] have I sweet com- M R S. R A M S A Y. 45 munion with the Saviour, and ravishing foretastes of the unutterable, inconceivable bliss, purchased for me by his blood and merits'? How do I lan- guish 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 moments. Am I drooping under desertion,] venting my complaints, because of the absence of him whom my soul lovethl 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, and shall be put into the full possession of heaven and hap- piness. I shall be victorious over hell and the grave. Having these comfortable assurances that 1 shall be happy, and finding all things below but bubbles, toys, and trifles, I have grown tired of this world, and long to be in a better, even the world above, where my Forerunner reigns, and where I hope ere long to reign with him in glory. Haste, Lord, and bring me to the day When I shall dwell at home ; Come, O Redeemer, come away, Jesus, quickly come. 46 MEMOIRSOF VII. The pleasures of Communion with God; Humiliation for unworthiness of such a Privilege ,• Resolutions to seek after its Continuance. 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 honours of royalty; the treasures of both the Indies ; the adulation of the multitude; nor health, nor friends, nor any thing of terrestrial bliss, though it were to last for ever, could make me happy in the absence of my God, or recompense me for the loss of his favor. But, with the light of his countenance, and the comforts of his Spirit, having no where to lay my head, sick and forlorn, mean and despised, perse- cuted and defamed, I could rejoice with joy un- speakable and full of glory. What nonsense would this seem to a man of the world; but the believing soul well 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 this truth, that his love surpasses knowledge, and is better than life itself. The cross ! the cross ! Oh this is all my glory ; the only ground of my rejoicing; by the death of the MRS. RAMSAY. 47 Son of God, life is purchased for me, and in his prevailing- name, I have free access to the throne of grace. I can go and spread before the Father my M^ants, and my complaints; tell him of all my distresses, my conflicts, my trials, and my weak- ness ; and from the fulness of his Son derive a sufficiency of strength for the day of temptation. I can plead his own word, his precious promises, and rest secure upon them. I can ask the influ- ences of his grace, beg the consolations of the Holy Ghost, and show him my need of comfort. Oh, I love to sit at the feet of Jesus, till my heart melts, and till my eyes run down with tears. I love to look on him, till they grow dim to outward objects, and till I am wholly taken up with the things of faith. Sometimes I am so lost in the height, and breadth, and length, and depth of love immeasurable, that I seem dead to the world, and have no thought of any thing in it. I forget the things of time, and my spirit solaces itself in the foretastes of eternal joys; but alas, these seasons last not long. Too soon my joys decay, Too soon my sins arise. Too soon I find myself groveling midst the clods of earth, and the wheels of love turning heavily. This makes the chains of sense hateful to me ; and nothing gives me pleasure that does not increase my growth in grace. I hate all company, all 48 MEMOIRSOF amusements, all business that diverts my mind from spiritual things, and draws it from God. I delight in those means which I have found most beneficial, and wish to observe every rule which has a good effect upon my spirit. My Sa- viour has often been pleased to manifest himself in my hours of prayer, and my soul has been caught up to celestial heights, even to the throne of God, while I was in the lowest posture of reverence be- fore him. He has often met me in my retirements, and made solitude so delightful to me, that I love to remain whole days shut out from the world. He has graciously refreshed me at his table, and pecu- liarly 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 inex- pressible, and only to be felt. Be astonished and wonder, my soul, that thou, the vilest creature in the world, the very chief of sinners, and a hell- deserving wretch, should ever be able to enjoy such a day, or feel the transports that thou hast done. Blush, that after this thou hast ever grown cold, lukewarm, and have even now so much rea- son to mourn, because of unbelief and hardness of heart. Be ashamed of thy careless and unchristian life, and humble thyself in the presence of the Lord because of thy transgression. Call upon every thing within thee, to exert itself in the service of MRS. RAMSAY. 49 thy Redeemer; walk more by faith and less by sight; divest thyself of all unnecessary concerns ; unlade thyself of vanity, and worldly-mindedness ; be more frequent and earnest in prayer, and live, as it were, continually before the cross ; so shalt thou feel thyself renewed in strength, and giving to the Saviour an undivided and sincere heart; he will not only frequently visit, but even take up his abode with thee, confirming thy love, increasing thy faith, and carrying thee from one degree of strength to another, till thou art made perfect in him. VIII. Disgust at Frivolous Conversation. How disgusting these vain visits to my sin-sick soul. While they examine and talk of laces, dresses, ornaments, and finery, I wish to converse with 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 covering necessary for the hiding of our shame. Dear Jesus, faithful friend, when they are telling of the 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 communion with thee. They know 50 MEMOIRSOF not the import of these words, " I in them, and thou in me, that they may be made perfect in one." They know not the pleasures of the way, or the sweetness of thy love, but fondly dream of bliss in fleeting enjoyments. They pursue a shadow and grasp at a phantom. No, dear Christ, nothing be- low 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 vanity ; and sooner or later never fail to give their followers vexation of spirit. No, 'tis iu vain to seek for bHss, For bliss can ne'er be found, Till we arrive where Jesus is, And tread on grace's ground. IX. Delight in the Company of the Pious, and in the expectation of heavenly Happiness ,• Love to Jesus, and Longing to he with him in Heaven. O MY God ! minutes come quickly, but mercies 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, exhortation, and edifi- cation. Thus it is that thou graciously dealest with me, hearing the prayers of thine unworthy M R S. R A M S A Y. 51 creature, and blessing her when she least expects it. Oh how I love the company of pious souls ; and to join in praising the name of Jesus; but if this be delightful, these imperfect services so pleasant, what must it be to meet with the blessed society above, where, without sin, and free from interruption and clog, without 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 ; evermore praising thee, and saying. Holy, holy, holy, Lord God of hosts, the whole heaven is full of thy glory. Glory be to thee, Lord. How charming to tell to listen- ing seraphs the wonders of redeeming love ; and With transporting joys recount The labours of my feet ; to rehearse my trials, conflicts, and temptations, and in harmonious strains, T ' ascribe my vict'ry to the Lamb, My conquest to his death. Faith looks forward with delight to this happy period, and my soul stretches her wings, and wishes to be gone. Wo is me, that I am con- strained to dwell in Mesech, and have my habita- tion in the tents of Kedar. Oh that I had wings like a dove, for then would I flee to the haven of eternal rest, to the bosom of my God. He is altogether lovely, the chief of ten thou- sand, fairer than the fairest, and the only fair. 52 MEMOIRSOF The fondness of the most enraptured lov^er, the tenderness of the dearest friend, is perfect hatred compared with the love of Jesus ; all the ideas that we can form of things sweet, amiable, and engaging, are mere deformity to the beauties of Immanuel. His winning charms are sufficient to captivate the most unfeeling breast, and warm the coldest heart. Was ever adamant so hard as mine, or flint so stubborn 1 Was ever ice so cold, or affec- tions so frozen] yet the heavenly Bridegroom overcomes. His persuasive energy is irresistible, and the marks of love graven in his hands and feet speak to my inmost soul. Jesus, my beloved, thy name gives joy to my desponding heart, and cheers my drooping spirits. Jesus ! harmonious sound, life-giving word, again and again will I re- peat it with fresh delight, and exult in my know- ledge of this name. Let heaven and earth re- echo with the sweet name of Jesus ; and let the hosts on high and saints below join hearts and tongues to celebrate it. Teach me, ye tuning seraphs, ye cherubim, ye angels near the throne, ye martyrs, ye eminently pious, who, having escaped the pollutions of the world, and, through the blood of the Lamb, gained the conquest, now cast your crowns, adoring at his feet; teach me, oh teach me, some of your sweet hymns, that I may bear my humble part in this immortal song. M R S. R A M S A Y. 53 Happy souls, how I envy you ; you have escaped, are free from sin and interruption ; you behold him face to face, and are strengthened to bear the full blaze of his glory ; you have done mourning, and wetting your couch vi^ith tears ; and now triumph in the bliss of Sion. Doubts and fears are over, and you are safely landed on the wished-for shore ; you have now no intervals of dulness and depres- sion ; no need of sleep or food ; no interruption from the flesh; but serve your God, without hin- drance, and in the perfection of holiness; you have no tempting devil, no deceitful heart, no alluring world ; your warfare is finished, your race is run, and you have found rest for your weary feet. Highly favoured of the Lord, I long to join you ; 1 long to take my place at your feet, and to leave this vale of tears, this thorny wilderness. Come quickly, dear Saviour, quickly come, and bear 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 ray faith ; and welcome crosses, so thou sanctify them. Yet, it is but little that I can do for thee ; and my utmost services are not worth the name; therefore, I plead, that thou wouldst hasten thy coming, and deliver me from my bondage ; yet a few more weary steps, and I hope my feet shall rest upon the everlasting hills ! 5- 54 MEMOIRSOF and when the awful, though wished-for moment arrives, be thou then with me. Put thine ever- lasting arms underneath me, for my support; give strength and confidence to my departing spirit; let the recollection of the firm covenant between us, then sustain me, and in mercy gild the dark valley, and brighten the gloomy shadow ; enable me, a poor, weak, undeserving sinner, to do honour to religion, in that last finishing 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. X. Contrition for Levity, Trifiing, ^'c. May 28, and 29. Under dreadful pressure from the commission of two flagrant crimes. My anguish, distress, and misery, are greater than I can express ; and no ideas can be adequate to what I feel, for the shocking levity, trifling, idleness, and even deceit of the foregoing day, dear Lord, pity a contrite soul, and heal my broken bones. Compassionate Redeemer, forgive my guilt, and comfort my poor wounded spirit. M R S. R A M S A Y. 55 Oh what a wretched sinner I am ; what an abuser of mercy. Good Lord, I am ready to faint. Pity, pity, I beseech thee. XL Temptation resisted and turned to Advantage. What a dreadful trial this is. I have had a hard conflict to-day. I have sinned, I have griev- ously 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, my Jesus, I have tasted too much of thy marvellous 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 de- serve 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 myself. Is it possible ? Three days ago, and I thought 1 could have gone with thee to prison and to death. Three days ago, and I had an answer for every doubt, for every enemy ; my sky was clear, and my cup run over with joy ; now every thing oversets me, and I lie in darkness and gloomy night. My trembling heart hardly dares speak to its injured Lord ; and Satan strives 56 MEMOIRSOF to discourage it more, and more, and even to make it despair; but blessed be 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, with all his subtlety; and I have been kneeling there with shame and confusion of face. I have not been able to say one w^ord, but only show my Jesus a wounded, broken, contrite spirit. Dearest Lord, despise not my polluted sacrifice, but give some look of kind compassion to a mourning soul. I am all filth, and guilt, and un- cleanness. My soul is covered with leprosy ; but 1 know that if thou wilt, thou canst make me clean, and restore me to peace and comfort. Let me humbly plead with my Lord, and earnestly implore his pity. I am a helpless, un- done sinner, that, without a glance from thee, or a cheering ray, must sink into despondency. Dear, kind shepherd, for thine own name, and for thine honour's sake, recall a wandering sheep, and bring me to feed again in the sweet pastures of thy love. Oh magnify thy grace in me, a poor silly creature ; and be thou glorified by my conso- lation. I thank and adore thee, sweet Jesus, for any rills of comfort, any glimpse of relief, to my distressed mind. Show me again the reviving light of thy countenance; let me once more enjoy sweet communion with thee, and my trembling soul find refuge in thy bleeding wounds. Help me MRS. RAMSAY. 57 to walk more circumspectly, and never to spend another day in so foolish, vain, and w^orldly a manner, seeing its dreadful consequences are the wounding of my own soul; offending- my dear Lord ; grieving the Holy Spirit, and filling me full of sorrow, darkness, and indevotion. Oh, give me strength from above, to walk more closely with my God. XII. Comfort in Resignation. My soul, be of good courage, wait on the Lord, and he shall strengthen thy heart; let not the howling of the savage beasts, which rove about this forest, affright thee, nor the pricking of the thorns, v/hich grow thick throughout the way, de- ter thee from thy duty ; thou shalt not have one more trial" than is necessary, nor shall the cross ever be heavier than thou canst bear. Jesus will support me through all the dreary wilderness ; nor ever leave his pilgrim comfortless, unless for a season, if need be, that my faith and patience, being tried, may be found not wanting; and that being purified, 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 enough v/ithin, and the thick clouds of unbelief almost intercept my sight ; but I call to mind my 58 M E M O I R S O F past experiences, and remember the old loving kindnesses of my Lord. I think on Christ's un- bounded love, and rest with sweet delight upon the gracious promises. I often enjoy inexpressible rapture, in the contradiction of my own \Yill, and in the midst of distress, am enabled to sing songs of triumph. xm. Commimio7i with God under Disappointments. A LITTLE time ago, I met with a considerable disappointment, and in a matter too that lay much upon my heart; but I shall never forget the com- fort I received. I shut myself out from the world, and, in bitterness of spirit, fell low before my Sa- viour. I poured forth floods of tears before him. I showed him my rebellious heart, ready to repine, because things went not as I would have them. My dear Master gave me a look of kind compas- sion, and with ineffable sweetness smiled gra- ciously upon me. Nature was subdued; grace triumphant. I left him not, till my whole soul was melted to resignation ; and I went forth from my chamber, cheerful and easy, without a single wish, 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 ut- M R S. R A M S A Y. 59 most ambition to attain an entire submission to the decrees of Providence, so that I may receive, M'hat to my short-sightedness appears evil, with the same thankfulness as the most desirable things in the world; and even accounting it all joy, that I am thought worthy to suffer, knowing that nothing happens by chance, and every dispensation, 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 below, Not to live without the Cross : But the Saviour's love to know, Sanctifying every loss. Trials make the promise sweet, Trials give new life to prayer, Trials lay me at his feet, Lay me low, and keep me there. XIV. Panting after God, and Delight in him, as the Su' preme Good. As the reviving stream to the thirsty hart; as the soft, nocturnal dews to the parched herbage ; and as plenteous showers after long drought in summer ; so, dear Fountain-head of refreshment, and infinitely more, are the emanations of thy love and the waterings of thy grace, to my thirsty, dry, 60 MEMOIRS OF and parched soul ; thou art my retreat from the burning sun, and the shelter of my defenceless head. To thy bosom do I flee for refugee, from the hell- ish darts of Satan ; and hide myself in thee, from all my ghostly enemies. While I abide with thee, I am secure, nor fear to be molested by the most potent foe ; but, alas ! fool that I am, my unsteady feet are ever apt to stray, and wander in temptation's flowery paths. Through the prevalence of temptation, I leave my Lord, enter into the world, defile my robes, fill myself with mourning, and drink deeper of the bitter cup of shame and remorse; it is astonishing to myself, that after receiving from thee the bread of life, and drinking large draughts of living water, I should ever forsake thy bosom, and leave my hiding-place. Lord, I love trials, I love crosses, for they send me near to thee. Passing through the fire and water, through torrents of distress, and floods of tribulation, are indeed my sweetest mo- ments, 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 the load of grief, and am enveloped with deep gloom, my heart and my strength are ready to fail, he supports me in the dark hour, and MRS. RAMSAY. 61 darting through the thickest clouds, with the sun- beams 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 with for thrones of royalty, and sceptres of dominion. Mistress of the universe, without Christ I should be miserable ; with him, no state can be adverse ; for the soul that is made one with Jesus, and lives in daily communion with him, has health, friend- ship, honour, wealth, pleasure, and satisfaction, more and greater than the warmest imagination can conceive^ or the most fluent tongue describe. Weak of body, sick in soul, Depressed at heart, and faint with fears : His dear presence makes me whole, And with sweet comfort cheers. Thou, of love, the fountain art, Freely let me take of thee, Spring thou up within my heart. Rise to all eternitv. XV. Bread of Inability io resist Temptation ; Trust in God, and Supplication for Strength in time of Need. I AM often much distressed by fears of apostasy. This dread upon my mind keeps me very low, and I often weep at the very apprehension of it. I cry 6 62 MEMOIRSOF (lay and night to my God, and importunately wrestle with him for preserving grace. I expect, unless there be some wonderful intervention of di- vine grace, soon to meet with sore temptations. The fear of reproach, and love of creatures, so easily beset me, that I am sure nothing less than power from on high can enable me to stand ; my situation at present is peculiarly happy ; 1 am in a dear family ; my uncle and aunt are patterns of piety, and every one in the house, to all outward appearance, is a real Christian. Here I am encou- raged in devotion, and my pious resolutions meet with applause [approval] ; but, oh, what should I do, if I were in an irreligious, or even lukewarm so- ciety ; how could I bear to be laughed at for my pre- ciseness, and to be ridiculed for my strictness to hours of prayer ; how would my poor heart stand it, if I were surrounded with gay company, and from morning to night heard nothing but worldly con- versation. Do I not find, whenever I go out, the world too apt to engross my thoughts, and steal on my affections 1 What should 1 do if my nearest connections and dearest relatives were 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 has pity on me, I must infallibly backslide. Dear, tender- hearted Shepherd, hear the groanings of a trem- bling soul; and let not my importunity offend M R S. R A M S A Y. 63 thee ; my immortal interest is at stake, and nothing but thy strength can be sufficient to redeem it from destruction. I rest and depend wholly upon thee, for I know that of myself I shall ever be prone to wander. Dear Jesus ! hear, in pity hear me ; after such solemn covenanting; such awful transactions; such rapturous endearments, let not earth or hell tempt me to violate my vows, nor the united force of men and devils have powder to break the bonds, which tie me to thee. Oh let me never perjure myself, never deny or forsake my Lord, for with whom else can I find equal happiness, or what shall recompense me for the loss of thy favour. Oh, my Redeemer ! I am willing to take up the cross ; to go with thee to prison and to death ; to bear shame, reproach, contumely, loss of fortune, reputation, and even life itself, for thy sake, but not able to .do the least of them. It is thou only, who hast worked in me the will, that must give me the power. Send down upon me thy heavenly benediction; strengthen me from above. Oh let me hear thy gracious voice declaring, that strength shall be equal to the day; then will I rejoice, and leaning on thine all-sufficient grace, go forth con- quering, and to conquer ; let thine arm be my sup- port, and grace my shield ; thy spirit my guide and director, and for thy mercy's sake, perfect thine own work in the soul of thy willing servant. 64 MEMOIRSOF XVI. Vanity of the World., and Joy in the Saviour, Let not, Lord, my wandering mind. Follow after fleeting toys ; Since in thee alone I find Soli-d and substantial joys ; Joys, that never overpast. Through eternity shall last. Lord, how happy is the heart. After thee, while it aspires, True and faithful, as thou art. Thou shalt answer its desires ; It shall see the glorious scene. Of thine everlasting reign. How comfortable is it, thus to enjoy my Saviour; how much more satisfactory and substantial is this bliss than that to be gained by a few minutes idle conversation, or those trifling employments, which have lately occupied my mind. Lord, show me more of the vanity of the world, and my great need of thee. XVII. Contrition for misspent Time., and Resolutionn to improve it in future. September 5. Time is short; how seasonable then is the advice of the apostle : " Use the world as not abusing it, for the fashion of this world passeth away." MRS. RAMSAY. 65 When I look back, and consider how often, and how long, I abused the good gifts of God ; not re- ceiving them with thankfulness, but employing them solely for the gratification of my sinful and corrupt desires, I am filled with the deepest horror, and mourn, with heartfelt grief, my vile ingra- titude. When I review the hours and days, the months and years, of sin and folly, which have passed over my guilty head, and reflect on the amazing, un- paralleled iniquities which I have committed ; re- collect the gracious opportunities, which I have misimproved; the numberless sermons and conver- sations of pious friends and godly ministers, which I have slighted ; the strivings of the blessed Spirit, which I have resisted, and withal the con- tinuance of distinguished mercies on so unde- serving a wretch, my very knees smite together, with trembling and confusion, and I grow pale with sorrow and regret. It is astonishing to my- self that I have been so long spared ; that I have yet a day of grace ; and I cannot but behold my- self as a miracle of mercy. I shudder at the very thoughts of what would have become of me, if God had stopped me 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 the very height of folly, in open rebellion against the majesty of heaven, and running headlong to 6* 66 M E M I R S O F destruction. I had backslidden, forgotten my 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 grace, I can rejoice in, and long for that hour, which then I dreaded, even to think upon. Oh that I could now redeem the time ; since it is impossible to recal the precious moments which are gone, bearing on their wings nothing but the black account of my transgressions ; may I endea- vour 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. Oh ! how much of this invaluable and precious blessing is spent ; not merely on things unnecessary, but on things hurtful, and which fetter my feet, and hinder me in my progress. What a great portion of my time is devoted to sleep and meals; to outward adorning; to provi- sion for the flesh ; to vain visits ; to unprofitable conversation ; to idle curiosity ; and ten thousand other trifles, which too often occupy the greater part of the day. What an important work have I to do, and how little time to do it inl Oh that I may make my calling and election sure. I do not know, but my M R S. R A M S A Y. 67 journey may be nearly finished, and in a few weeks, perhaps a few hours, the awful summons may arrive, and warn me to quit this tenement of clay, and to appear before the great Judge of quick and dead. Oh that I may be found ready, sincerely penitent, and humbly contrite; and when the so- lemn register of all my secret, as well as outward sins is opened, may they be found crossed by his precious death and merits. Awake, awake, O my lethargic soul ! Sleep no longer on the brink of a precipice. Content not thyself with having done something, but press forward continually, with thy utmost power. Make the most of the short span allotted thee, 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;" watch, that thou mayest be ready to meet him, to meet him with joy, and to be received by him into mat everlasting kingdom, prepared for thee, by his love, before the foundation of the world. My God and my strength, thou wilt shortly 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 ever-growing pleasure. 68 MEMOlllS OF XVIII. On the Lord'' s- day. Thanksgiving for restored Health, and renewed act of Self-dedication tu God ; with Prayer to he enabled to act worthy of the honourable name of a Christian. Sunday. This is the day which the Lord has made : I will rejoice and be glad in it. The Sabbath and service of the Lord shall be the joy and solace of my soul. I will pay my vows now in the 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 mercies of comfort on a bed of sickness, restora- tion from the brink of the grave, and an agreeable and safe journey. Lord, here 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. T Help me this day, and all the days of my life, to walk worthy the honourable name I bear; and may I never be ashamed of the faith of Christ cruci- fied ; but as a good soldier and servant of the Lord Jesus, fight manfully under this banner against the world, the flesh, and the devil. Compassionate High Priest, give me, I beseech thee, continual supplies of strength from thine ov/n unbounded fulness : and in thine outer court this day, let me be greatly re- M R S. R A M S A Y. 69 freshed and strengthened to go on my way. Oh let this Sabbath be to me an emblem of the eternal Sabbatism, which I hope ere long to enjoy, with all the faithful, in thy glorious kingdom. Oh give me a glimpse of thy countenance, and reveal thyself to my seeking soul, through' the lat- tice of divine ordinances. Banish every worldly thought, and drive from me all vain ideas. Come, Holy Spirit ! come ; Oh come, and cleanse my heart; prepare it for the reception 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 thee I open ; come in and sup -with me; come in, and take up thine eternal abode, and let me ever dwell in thee, and thou in me. XIX. Grateful .Acknowledgments for renewing Grace, and an Ascription of every Jlttainnient and Blessing to free, unmerited Grace. What has God wrought ] my soul! look, and love, and wonder I How am 1 changed ! How different are my thoughts, my views, my pursuits, from what they were! and blessed be God that I can say, how different is my practice. I now 70 MEMOIRSOF love what I hated, and abhor what was my former delight. Adored be grace. Not unto me, Lord ! not unto me, but to thy free and unmerited good- ness be all the glory of my salvation. I had neither power nor inclination to part with earth, or seek for heaven; but grace has done the work; con- vinced me of sin, and made me in love with holi- ness. It has shown me my own inability to every good thing, and my need of so all-sufficient a Sa- viour as Jesus is. Grace ! 'tis a sweet, a charming theme, My thoughts rejoice at Jesus' name ; Ye angels dwell upon the sound, Ye heavens reflect it to the ground. I was quickened by grace, when dead in tres- passes and sins ; by grace, alone, I stand ; by grace only do 1 make any attainments ; and without grace I am nothing; can do nothing but sin. The build- ing 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 stammering tongue is unloosed in a nobler, sweeter song, I w'ill sing its power to save, and join with all the nations of the ransomed, in echoing and re-echoing through the 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. MRS. RAMSAY. ii Oh what immortal joys I felt, And raptures all divine, When Jesus told me 1 was his. And my beloved mine. Blessed Saviour! I adore thy wonder fal good- ness, to so undeserving a sinner, to so vile a rebel ; any hope of pardon, any interval 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 sensi- ble manifestations of thy good-will towards me. Praised be thy name. I charge you all, you earthly toys, Approach not to disturb my joys ; Nor sin, nor hell, come near my heart. Nor cause my Saviour to depart. These fragments of the recorded exercises and meditations of Miss Laurens, show the depth and spirituality of her religious emo- tions, at that early period of her Christian life. And they should lead those of the same age, who constitute the older classes in many of our Sunday-schools, and many of whom have pro- bably enjoyed higher advantages of religious instruction than shs<| could command — to re- ^ 72 M E M I R S O F fleet on their relations to God and anothei world, and to seek without delay a better por- tion than earth or time can give. When, at a later period, Miss Laurens was about to leave England for a residence in France, she destroyed most of the papers she had written. Two only are known to have escaped the flames, and these are well worth preserv- ing. They were written, as the dates show, at the age of seventeen and eighteen. A Supplication for a Beloved Relative. Bristol, June, 1776. My heart has been rather bowed down to-day, and through the prevalence of unbelief, I have a hard struggle to keep from sinking. My dear aunt's extreme weakness makes me truly appre- hensive on her account; and oh, my stubborn will, it can hardly hear the thoughts of letting her outstrip me and get to heaven first ! Oh, 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, my God ! if I may plead with thee, and if the earnest wish of my soul is net contradictory to thy all-wise and gracious providence, which I would not for ten thousand worlds desire to subvert. M R S. R A M S A Y. 73 spare, Oh spare her ; direct the physicians, herself, and attendants, and in mercy hear the supplications of her friends, of me, thine unworthy supplicant. Bless the waters, the change of air, or whatever she shall be ordered. Without thy blessing, no- thing will avail ; therefore, by humble and diligent prayer, would I seek it, in the name and for the merits of my 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 the violence of disease, hitherto shalt thou go and no further ; and with one powerful word, canst recruit exhausted nature, and give new strength and vigour. I well know that thou art able, and as fully am I convinced, that thou art willing to grant this peti- tion, if it will be for the good of thine handmaid, and of us her affectionate friends ; therefore, with the most steady faith, I desire to pray, and without wavering to come unto the throne of grace. If thou doest for me this thing, I will adore and praise thy love for ever, and for ever; if not, in the deepest affliction will I sing unto thee, and amidst surrounding distress will proclaim thy goodness. O my Lord, be thou with my dear friend; place thine everlasting arms beneath her; give her strength and confidence in thee under all her trials ; manifest thy presence unto her in so sweet and delightful a manner that she may forget all her pains, and lose all her sorrows in the enjoyment 7 74 MEMOIRSOF of thy love; revive her drooping spirits with the cordials of thy grace; wean her more than ever from the world, and engage to thee the chief and choicest of her affections. Teach me, I pray thee, the way in which I ought to go ; direct me to every tender, kind, and Christian action, and assist me now to show my gratitude for her unparal- leled goodness to me for so many years, by doing every thing in my power 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 Beligious Exercise at Home, when Providentially Disappointed of an opportunity for Public Com- munion. In the name of the Father, of the Son, and of the Holy 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 acknow- ledge and rejoice in my dependence on thee : I have tasted such an abundance of comfort in thy paths, and have found them so peaceful aud so pleasant, that it does not appear to me that any thing in the world could tempt me to leave them: but instead of being high-minded, my God! I MRS. RAMSAY. 75 would fear and watch over myself with a godly jealousy, lest through the abundance of that con- solation which thou hast vouchsafed me, I should be filled with vain confidence, slide into carnal security, and feel, sooner than I am aware of, a de- clension from the ways of grace. Behold, there- fore, O Lord I 1 come as a beginner in religion, a babe in Christ, humbly beseeching thee 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 immovable pillar in thy eternal kingdom. Bind me to thyself more strongly. Lord, 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 disci- ple of thy cross; but since thy providence hath otherwiseordained, 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 may have it more abundantly. Show me that thou art an all-powerful God, and that where thou art pleased savingly to manifest 76 MEMOIRS OF thyself, there is heaven, there is a temple, there an altar, there divine communion ; and while thy ser- vant, in an humble dependence on thy promises, with a bended knee and with a contrite heart waits upon thee, reveal thy mercy and thy loving-kindness, and overflow her soul with the cleansing and re- viving streams of thy redeeming grace. Say unto me, ''^ I am thy Salvation.'''' Drive doubt and un- belief away, and banish all my fear; make me to know that / 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 Laurens. Teignmouth, July 6, 1777. After her removal to France, she either discontinued writing, or destroyed 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 re- volution, and for a short period after its termi- nation, Miss Laurens resided in various parts of England, improving her mind, and prepar- ing herself for meeting the contemplated loss M R S. R A M S A Y. 77 of her father, brother and fortune, by the events of the war, and, at the same time, doing every office of love to her afflicted uncle, Mr. James Laurens. She afterward continued the same kind services to him for several years in France. In 1784, he was released by death, from a long, protracted, painful complaint, un- der which he had suffered for the last ten years of his life ; and his surviving friends, with pious sacrilege, stole for him a grave, in which they deposited his remains. With this event there is associated a singular instance of an impression being made on the mind by an event which, at the time, could not have been known to the individual by any or- dinary method of communicating intelligence. It is thus.stated: — When Mr. James Laurens died in Vigan, his niece, Martha Laurens, was with her father in England. She started out of bed, and declared that her uncle was just dead ; and at her request the day and hour was committed to writing, by Miss Futerell. In the ordinary course of the posts between the two countries, inteUigence of his death arrived, and the day and hour of it precisely corresponded with what had been recorded as 78 MEMOIRS OF aforesaid in England. There is nothing in this occurrence, or in a similar one* hereafter to be mentioned, to prove any thing more than that the Creator of the mind may, and some- times does, cause it to receive impressions by extraordinary means. Mr. James Laurens having no children of his own, proposed to leave the bulk of his estate to Miss Laurens, his faithful nurse and affectionate niece ; but she peremptorily re- fused the acceptance thereof, to the deteriora- tion of the reasonable expectations of her brothers and sister. The will was framed agreeable to her wishes ; but the testator, in addition to a child's share, left her a specific legacy of five hundred pounds sterling, de- clared in his will to be "a token of his friend- ship for her ; and as an acknowledgment for the services she had rendered 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 * See page 90. MRS. RAMSAY. 79 she was very much noticed. She highly prized the company of such persons, and from them received both pleasure and improvement. After the treaty of France with Congress, in 1778, and particularly the rejection in the same year of the offers of Great Britain, for a re-union with her late colonies, the situation of the Laurens family in England was un- pleasant. Henry Laurens was at that time president of Congress, and had officially con- ducted the correspondence of that body with the British commissioners, which terminated in a rejection of their offers. Miss Laurens was often obliged to hear her native country abused, and to read and hear her beloved fa- ther calumniated as a fomenter of the disputes between Britain and her colonies ; and as an aspiring, ambitious man, wishing to rise to consequence at every hazard ; but, taught by his sage advice, and her own good sense, she shunned all political controversy. Unable to render her suffering country 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- 80 MEMOIRSOF dient to leave England, passed over to France, as we have seen, and lived there till the re- estabKshment of peace. During the greatest part of this period, of six or seven years, and the whole of the time of their residence in England, they weft almost w^holly 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 be- tween 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 residence in Vigan was preferred on account of the cheapness of living. There Miss Laurens spent her time usefully to her uncle, profitably to herself, and as pleasantly as straitened cir- cumstances, anxiety for her friends and native country, then the seat of war, would permit. She had many opportunities of improving her mind by reading and conversation, which she diligently improved. She and the family of her uncle received great civilities from the French, for the same reasons that they re- ceived slights from the English. But never- theless, they had all abundant scope for the MRS. RAMSAY. 81 exercise of faith, patience, and trust in that Being to whom they had committed all their concerns. Love to their Father in heaven, and love and harmony among themselves, sweetened their frugal repasts, and took away the bitterness of the cup of affliction from which they were obliged deeply to drink. In the year 1780, 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 re- volution. If that had failed it would have been easy to have convicted him of the crime with which he was charged, and not easy to have saved him from the penalty annexed to it. The disorder of her uncle became daily worse, and required unceasing attention by night and by day. Charleston was taken by the British ; Carolina was overrun by their armies ; remittances were not only rendered impossible, but the loss of their whole capital extremely probable. The alarms of her father, at the commencement of the war, seemed to be on the point of being realized. About the same time, intelligence was received that her dearly beloved brother, John Laurens, had 82 M E M I R S O F fallen in battle. Under this complication of distresses, she found the wisdom and comfort of having secured a friend in her Maker, by a solemn covenant entered into with him in the morning of life, in the full enjoyment of health, and in the fair prospect of every worldly blessing. From this source she drew much consolation, and bore up under every trial, trusting in Him to whom she had, in a most solemn manner, consecrated herself. In due time the clouds of adversity began to dis- perse ; the prospects of America brightened. Her father was discharged from confinement, and, after a separation of seven years, she joined him in Paris, and presided over his domestic concerns, while he assisted in the negotiations which terminated in peace and the acknowledged independence of the United States. The transition from the nurse's cham- ber, in a remote country place, to the head of the table of a minister plenipotentiary in the metropolis of France, was great and sudden. But her Bible was her companion and coun- sellor. She read it by day and meditated on it by night. It had taught her to bear adver- sity with patience, resignation, and fortitude ; MRS. R A M S A Y. 83 and now kept her from the intoxication and folHes, which are too apt to grow out of pros- perity. About this time, Miss Laurens received from her father a present of five hundred guineas. For some years before she had been obhged to hve in restricted circumstances, from the impossibility of receiving supplies. To make up for this suspension of her father's usual liberahty, he gave her the above-mentioned sum at once. Of this she appropriated only a small part to her own use. With the sur- plus she purchased one hundred French Tes- taments — which was the whole number then to be had — and gave them away among the poor, in and near Vigan, and also established a school for the instruction of the youth in the same place, engaged a master to preside over it, and constituted a fund to defray its annual expenses. There is reason to believe that the institution continues to this day, for the funds left were fully adequate to its support in that part of France, where the expenses of edu- cation and living were then astonishingly low. As an illustration of the firmness and deci- 84 MEMOIRSOF sion which characterized Miss Laurens, we have been furnished with the following anec- dote : — When she was abroad, a gentleman of lati- tudinarian sentiments paid his addresses to her, and a plan was laid to bring about a forced marriage. She was resolved to escape the snare, and went to her aunt and told her that she was about to conceal herself, but did not wish her to know where, so that if she was questioned on the subject she might truly say she did not know. She laid her plan wisely, and succeeded in secreting herself. Her aunt was interrogated, and with a charged pistol pointed at her head was told to reveal the place of her concealment. She simply rephed that she did not know, and her character for truth was such as to leave no doubt of her ignorance. The plan of her lover was de- feated, but his resentment was deadly. He swore vengeance upon the head of any one who should marry Miss Laurens. Some years afterwards, the lover happened to be in the same house. Mrs. Ramsay (as she then w^as) saw him and made some excuse to retire, but her husband and her former lover passed MRS. RAMSAY. 85 a very pleasant evening together, never sus- pecting each others relation to Mrs. R. The restoration of peace to Carolina, in 1783, pointed out the propriety of the return of the inhabitants. Miss Laurens, with her aunt and sister, arrived in Charleston in 1785, after a long absence, comprehending something more than the whole period of the American revolu- tion. Their joy on finding their native coun- try at peace, and raised from the humble rank of a dependent colony to that of an independent nation, was inexpressible. Now, for the first time, after leading an unsettled life for ten years, they found themselves at home. On the 28d of January, 1787, Miss Laurens was married to Dr. David 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 vir- tuous habits, and the same energy of character, in taking care of her children, in promoting her husband's happiness, and making a well- ordered home his chief delight, that had for- merly distinguished Miss Laurens in acquiring useful knowledge, and discharging the duties 8 Ob M E M I R S O F 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 Enghsh, that she might be better informed of the nature and extent of her new duties. The object she proposed to herself was to obtain, for her chil- dren, health of body and a well-regulated mind. To secure the former, they were from their birth daily washed in cold water, and, throughout the whole period of infancy, per- mitted to expose themselves with uncovered feet, to wet and cold, and all the varieties and sudden changes of Carolina weather. To favour the latter, they were taught to curb their tem- pers ; to subject their passions to the supreme dominion of reason and religion ; to practise self-denial ; to bear 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 children without the aid of any wet-nurse ; watched over them by night and day ; and clung to them every moment of sickness or pain. They were the subjects of her prayers before they were born, and every subsequent MRS. RAMSAY. 87 day of her life. With one exception she devoted them all to God in baptism,* pubHcly in church, at a time when private baptisms were common; for she rejoiced in every pro- per opportunity of declaring to the world her firm belief of the Christian religion, and her respect for all its institutions. As soon as they were capable of receiving religious instruction, she liberally imparted it; and early taught them their miserable and corrupted state by nature ; that they were born into a world of sin and misery ; surrounded with temptations, and without a possibility of salvation, but by the grace of God, and a participation in the benefits procured for sinners, by the atoning sacrifice of Jesus Christ ; and at the same time, that Godwas the hearer of prayer, the ten- derest 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 * This being an historical fact, stated in the original oiography, the Committee of PubHcation retain it as such, but without expressing any opinion on the sub- ject of baptism. 88 MEMOIRSOF might be done with understanding, she made them read, in connection with their Bibles, Watts' short view of the whole Scripture his- tory, 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 uni- form, harmonioQS system of divine truth. Of this blessed book she enjoined upon them daily to read a portion, and to prize it as the stand- ard of faith and practice ; as a communication 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 heavenly Father to direct their wandering feet to the paths of truth and happiness. From it she was taught " that foolishness is bound in the heart of a child, but the rod of correction shall [* Among modern publications designed to aid pa- rents in the religious instruction of their children on these points, may be mentioned the Unioji Bible Dic- tionary, Scripture Guide, Biblical Antiquities, and the voluminous library of Scripture biography, published by the American Sunday-school Union.] MRS. RAMSAY. 89 drive it far from him." She therefore, on proper occasions, used the rod, but ahvays with discretion and judgment, sometimes with prayer, often with tears, but never with anger. She was well acquainted with the plans of Rousseau, and other modern reformers, who are for discarding the rod and substituting con- finement, 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 cor- poral pain, applied judiciously and simultane- ously with the offence ; and that the modern substitutes for the rod often nourished a sullen 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 with the help of a tried and accom- plished friend, 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 8* 90 MEMOIRSOF the family, and in health, she daily read to her domestic circle a portion of the holy Scrip- tures, and prayed with them ; and frequently, on particular occasions, with one or more indi- viduals of it, and regularly, every Sunday, with her young white and black family, in addition to catechetical instructions given to both at the same time. In case of a temporary separation, extraordinary deliverance, provi- dence, misconduct, or even of a quarrel among her boys, she would take the parties and pre- sent them with herself before the throne of grace, and in a solemn address to their com- mon heavenly Father, and her covenant God, state all the circumstances of the case, and im- plore of him, by his grace, to give them the temper, disposition and views, which were 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 sovereign; and in all the important * It is remarkable, that from and after the time Col. John Laurens was killed in South Carolina, August 27th, 1782, his sister, the subject of these memoirs, then in Vigan, never put up a prayer for him, though she was previously in the habit of praying frequently MRS. RAMSAY. 91 transactions of her life, resolved on nothing till she had previously sought direction of God respecting it. She might be said to live a life of prayer, for she incorporated it with her daily business, and was so habituated to its constant practice, that prayers frequently constituted a part of her dreams. Believing most tho- roughly that God's providence extends to every event and every circumstance of the life of every human being, and subscribing to the doctrine "that it is as absurd to expect we shall arrive at virtue and happiness without prayer, as it would be for the husbandman to hope he shall have his usual crop, though he bestow none of his usual labour and industry ;" she practically conformed to the apostolic precept, "pray without ceasing," and daily brought before her Maker the cases of herself, family, friends, neighbours, and sometimes of for him ; and his death was unknown to her for two or three months after it had taken place. She mentioned the fact, without pretending to account for it, and add- ed, that she several times wondered at her omission of that usual part of her duty, and resolved to retire for the purpose of praying for her brother ; but that in every such case, some sudden call or other unexpected event interposed to prevent her doing so. See page 77. 92 MEMOIRS OF strangers, whose situation was known to be in- teresting. She was a constant and devout attendant on divine service ; regularly recorded the text, and occasionally made a short analysis of the sermon. These memoranda, with pious no- tices of passing providences, prayers, and other rehgious exercises and records of the state of Mrs. Ramsay's mind, on important occasions, were entered by her in books in the form of a diary, but with considerable chasms. As the progress of her Christian hfe ma}'- be traced more distinctly in these brief records of her daily experience, than by any other means within reach, extracts are subjoined, embracing a period of ten or fifteen years, though at long intervals of date. EXTRACTS FROM MRS. Saturday, July 16th, 1791. My feet had well- nigh slipped, through the prevalence of my easily besetting sin, nevertheless I laid me down to sleep, rejoicing that I had not utterly fallen. Lord, make me at all times watchful. 17th. Lord, may this be a sanctified Sabbath ; M R S. R A M S A Y. 93 a day to be remembered for holy resolutions and enabling grace. lam weak; oh 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 rest. 19th. I thank God for the ease and cheerful- ness of this day; and that, in spite of secret griefs and spiritual conflicts, my soul and body do both sweetly repose themselves in the God of my salvation. SOth. O day, blackened with sin, and spotted by transgression ! How long, O Lord, how long! when shall I advance in the spiritual life, and not thus wound my peace and disgrace my profession. I thank God that my heart aches. Oh let it never be hardened through the deceitfulness of sin. O my God, how lately hath thine afflictive Provi- dence been wringing my heart with a twofold an- guish — the loss of my sweet baby, and the consi- deration of those sins which required this chas- tisement ; 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 remembrance of my sweet Fanny press upon my memory ; and how good is God, that though cast down, yet my heart is kept from murmuring, and aches more for 94 MEMOIRS OF my sorrow-causing sins, than for the sorrow itself. Thanks be to Christ, who has purchased a heaven for us, where we shall be without sin, and of course without sorrow. 28th. 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 beyond their reach. 29th. O power of sin, how great art thou ! Lord, give me strength ! 30th. My heart is ready to break, under a sense of sin, and to cry out, ' I shall one day fall by the hands of these mine enemies!' O thou great deli- verer, Death, how pleasant is the thought that thou wilt free me from this body of corruption ! Hold thou me up, O Lord, that all the days of my ap- pointed time I may walk very humbly and mourn- fully, under a sense of mine iniquities. Cleanse thou me from secret faults, and let no open, or pre- sumptuous sin, get the better of me. Lord, I am weak; strengthen me; I am bowed down under thy chastisement ; yet so much lighter is it than my guilt, that I am filled with wonder at thy com- passions and long-suffering. August 4th. easily besetting sin, when shall the time come, that thy power will be broken, and my poor soul find rest ! Lord, make me dili- MRS. RAMSAY. 95 gent, in self-examination, and let not any sin have dominion over me. 5th. In six and in seven troubles, I have found thee, Lord, my help. Forsake me not now, O my God ! I am most unworthy. Lord, even to lookup unto thee ; yet to whom. Lord, should I go, but unto thee, who hast the words of eternal life, and the keys of universal Providence. Unto thee, commit I my ways ; and on thee, as from whom alone can come help, do I cast my cares. 12th. Here I still remain a monument of for- bearing mercy. Oh, infinite compassion, that I should be out of hell ! O Lord, the pressure 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 whereas, I ought to have made progress, despair is sometimes ready to overcome me, through the power of sin. Lord, help me, enable me to endure to the end. Lord, abandon me not, for I grow weaker and weaker. 15th and 16th. Truly, the pressure of guilt is upon me, and I feel astonished that my bed has not this night been made in hell. wretched me ! when shall I 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! Lord, I tremble, and my soul is sore pained within me. Surely these repeated rebellions 96 MEMOIRS OF are forfeiting all thy mercies, and I need dread, lest all sorts of bereavements happen to me. 1 need be in horror, lest the worst of bereavements happen to me; even that I be bereaved of the light of God's countenance, and damnation be my por- tion. Oh vilest and most complicated of sinners that I am ! Terror and dismay take hold upon me. Oh if men knew me as I am known to my God, I should be trampled under foot; the church would disown me ; the greatest sinners would abominate me, my husband, that loves and thinks well of me, would wonder at me and mourn, and I should be hated of all men. Lord, have mercy upon me ! Christ, have mercy upon me, a most miserable sinner, and let any thing happen to me, rather than I should be easy in this dreadful evil state of sin. O Holy Spirit, strive with me ! O gracious friend of sinners, intercede for me. O merciful Father, have pity upon me, and give me power against sin, and more and more broken- ness of heart, because of it. Lord, I can hardly endure the view of my own heart, yet forbid that it should be hidden from me. Jesus, Lord, I fly to thy cross ; for sorrow taketh hold of me, and yet so weak am I, that I have no power against the very sins which do so pierce me through. October 19th. As this day, Lord, is stained with sin, so let it be marked by the deepness of my repentance. Let the blood of Jesus cleanse M R S. R A M S A Y. 97 me from my defilements; and the grace of thy Holy Spirit prevent me from such repeated falls, and save me from falling finally. Oh, sins against vows — sins against light, how do they pierce my heart! Surely, 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 ! November 2d. Alas, Lord, how wretched am I, while the desire of my heart is, I trust, truly turned to thee ; yet I often fall into such sins as bring horror upon me. O my God ! I am weakness itself. Strengthen me by thy grace, and preserve me from secret faults and from presumptuous sins, and enable me to walk watchfully. Lord, I recommend myself to thee, in the pre- sent intricacy of several of my worldly concerns. I bless thee for thy counsels and chastenings; give me wisdom and prudence in all my walk, a resigned temper, and an humble mind, and enable me, pondering all these things in my heart, and re- membering thy former loving-kindnesses, and thy tried faithfulness and compassions, amidst the storms of inward temptation and outward troubles, to have my heart at peace, being stayed upon thee. Lord, if any heavy trial is before me, help me to go through it with becoming fortitude, and with 9 98 M E M O I R S O F great meekness ; and walking by faith and not by- sight, may 1 humbly and patiently wait the great unfoldings of thy providence. Lord, assist me in my preparations for the so- lemnities 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 1 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 walk in an humble, strict, and watch- ful manner, and not by any indulgence in sin to be laying up sorrow for my wretched self! Jesus, hear and help a sinner, who casts herself on thee ! 10th. Lord, be pleased to give me repentance for the sins of this day, and power against all sin; but especially against that which thou, O God, seest, and my own heart knoweth, to be my easily besetting sin. Lord, suffer me not to fall into pre- sumptions, and by thy great mercy keep me from the dominion of any sin. O friend of sinners, have pity on me, and make me dread sin above all things, and walk with holy fear, at a distance from all the occasions of it. Lord, save me or I perish I 21st. Lord, fill me with shame for the sins of this day, and deliver me from the power of sin ! M R S. R A M S A Y. 99 liord, my soul loveth thee, and I groan under this hody of corruption ; make thy grace sufficient for me. 25th. My husband set out for Columbia. I pray God bless and preserve him. The same day, my dear little Patty fell into the parlour fire ; but by God's good providence I was enabled to snatch her out, and smother the flame, before she had re- ceived any considerable injury. May God's good- ness deeply affect me, and may I show forth his praise in a holy life. Lord, pluck her as a brand from everlasting burnings, and make her thine own child. December 28th. In all my soul perplexity, 1 would come to God ; he is a tried refuge, and has brought me in spite of sin thus far. O my good God, 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 expect and look for that succour which I so greatly need, and which none but thou canst afford. Lord, I cast myself on thy mercy in Christ. Strengthen thou me, lest I faint or utterly fall away. August 12, 1794. Many people are ill just now, and deaths frequent ; and although the reigning disorder is said to be confined to strangers or peo- ple who 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 100 MEMOIRS OF in readiness. Lord, make me at all times ready ; that 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 judgment and steadiness of mind, in the duties of his profession, and preservation from the dangers of it. My gracious Saviour, be thou pleased to deliver me from being under the domi- nion of any sin ; and grace most particularly to watch against the assaults of my easily besetting sin ; that so this iniquity may never be my ruin. IGth. Alas, my soul, on a review of the week past, how little cause have I for rejoicing; my dear Sabina has been brought through her weaning at a critical time, beyond all my expecta- tion, and is healthy and thriving ; the rest of my children and family well, when so many are sick, dying, or dead, around us; but what have I ren- dered to the Lord for all these benefits? It has been a week marked by folly and stained by sin. I have 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 1 abide ! I desire to apply to that grace, which is my only refuge. O Lord, accept and pardon me in Christ ! Enable me, all the remainder of my life, to walk under an humbling sense of sin, so as al- MRS. RAMSAY. 101 ways to have a broken and contrite heart ; and, O my God ! as the thing which I desire of thee above any thing- else in the world, and what thou alone canst give, be pleased to save me from the power and tyranny of sin, and grant me inward and out- ward sanctification, 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 the awfulness of making a religious profession, without a daily se- rious care, to be holy in thought, word and deed. 18th. With bitterness of spirit, 1 desire to hum- ble myself before the Lord, under a recollection of all my past sins, and more especially, of the sins committed since I have devoted myself to him, and chosen him to be my God. Oh, these are the sore burdens, the grievous distresses; after having known the goodness of the Lord, so repeatedly to rebel against him. O my heavenly Father, be pleased to give me more wisdom and more grace for the future ! My soul panteth after holiness, and the most earnest desire 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 resisting temp- tation; more attentive to providences, and more careful in the instructions which 1 give my dear chil- dren, and in the example which I set before them. 9* 102 MEMOIRS OF 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 my mind has been much exercised in spiritual things; that I have been more earnest in private prayer, and sought my God in the watches of the night ; and yet I cannot perceive an increase in sanctification, according to my desire; nor ihat strength against sin, which my soul pants after. O my God, be pleased to give me holiness ! Enable me to go on, to serve my blessed Saviour fully, and to walk with that uprightness, that uni- formity, that heavenly-mindedness, which I owe to him who has bought me with so great a price, and whose mercy and 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 thing 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. September 22, 1794. Mrs. Petrie died of a six days' illness ; having been married to Mr. George Petrie only twelve days. God grant that no such MRS. RAMSAY. 103 awful and awakening providence as the removal of a young person, so lately full of life and health and strength, should pass without some serious improvement; some earnest desire to have my loins girt and my lamp burning ! October 6th. My sister Pinckney died, having been generally delirious from Friday; and her speech so thickened, that though she attempted it in the intervals of reason, she never could make us understand what she wished to say to us. Miss Futerell and myself were constantly with her; but my heart is too full to write on this subject. Lord, thou knowest my groanings, and my sighings are not hid from thee; commiserate thy poor, sinful, suffering creature ; and fill me with humility and resignation under this exceedingly heavy stroke of thy providence. 13th. Having had continued sickness of body, and a mind full of grief; though I trust entirely submitted and resigned to the Divine will, and de- siring to find life, health and peace in the cross, on the second of November I became so seriously ill as to fill all about me with apprehensions for my life ; in which state I remained for two days ; and for five more, in a state of very deplorable weakness. It pleased Him, however, in whose hands are the issues of life and death, to raise me from the bed of languishing ; and upon the whole, my general health is better than it had been before. 104 MEMOIRS OF Oh that by all means God may draw me to him- self; and neve* cease striving with me till I am wholly his. November 21st. Dr. Ramsay left me to go 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 depths have I cried unto thee, 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 a separating wall between thee and my soul ; but for the sake of Christ, my atonement and intercessor, hear thou me and help, for from thee alone can help come. I am in straits, trials, and perplexities of soul and of body. My outward affairs can only be helped by thy providence ; my spiritual troubles by thy grace. Creatures can neithet-understand nor assist me; to thee, there- fore, the Giver of all good, and the Source of all consolation, do I come, and humbly commit all m_y cares to thee, who carest for sparrows ; how much more for thy redeemed ones. Surely I have found thee a prayer-answering God, and that in some very remarkable instances ; and whereas I might have been in hell, and there deserve now to be, instead of being here, I have reason to say, hither- MRS. RAMSAY. 105 to hath the Lord helped me; and yet my wicked, faithless heart, dares to doubt if he will yet help me. my good God, whose providence is over all thy works, and whose long-suffering is infinite, punish not this faithlessness 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, according to my singular necessities. Calm, O Lord, the tumult of my thoughts ; compose my disturbed mind ; and make me lowly and resigned before thee, as becomes so great a sinner. If thou art pleased to answer my prayer, and yet that it should be in a way of affliction, let it suffice me that the Lord reigneth ; and may not a murmuring thought come across my breast ; but looking unto Jesus, who, for my sake, endured the cross, may I also meekly submit. Shouldst thou answer me accord- ing to my wishes, oh let it be in mercy, not in judgment; and let this renewed instance ^f thy kindness and condescension draw my heart nearer to thee, in faith and holiness, than it has ever been. Lord, I leave my case, my sorrows and difficulties, before thee; pleading only the merits of the pre- cious Saviour; to thee, O my Jesus, are all my sighings known; and my groanings are not hid from thee. March 1st. Lord, I come before thee again with 106 MEMOIRS OF my perplexities ; oh let not my importunities of- fend my God ; but do thou be pleased this day, for Christ my Redeemer's sake, to hear and to help me, and to give a gracious 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 shalt be pleased to order. May no doubtings or unbelief on my part offend my God ; but may I now most remarkably find thee, the God who wilt perform for me this thing which I so much desire. Lord, be pleased to remember thy word unto thy servant, upon which thou hast made me to hope. Let not the Lord be angry witli his poor creature, who so earnestly pleads with him now to manifest himself to her soul as her God, by answering her present request and suppli- cation. Lord, I am thine, save thy servant, and if it be compatible with thy divine decrees, grant the desire of my heart, which thou knowest, and by this manifestation of thy providence, clear up my d^k skies, and restore peace to my troubled soul. 11th. Maya good and merciful God turn off my heart from folly and unbelief, and be pleased in great mercy to quiet my spirit and to force me to confess that he is the wonder-working God. De- liver me, O Lord, from consuming care; clear up my darkened skies; be pleased, O my gra- cious and condescending Father, to relieve my MRS. RAMSAY. 107 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 has been more exercised both from outward pressure and inward conflict than I 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 14th of April, from the extreme distress I was in, I felt as if heart and flesh, Vv^ithout any bodily indisposition, were both going to fail ; and nothing but the support of the everlasting arm, and the pouring out of my complaint with groans and tears and sighs into the bosom of Him, who was once a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief, kept me from sinking. Oh, who but the Maker of my frame, and the former of my spirit, could ever know what I underwent on this awful day ! Had I turned to any creature, none could have under- stood 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 108 MEMOIRS OF sorrow, and with suffering, and with toil. On the 15th I had a very remarkable answer to prayer, a partial lifting up, and tokens for good vouchsafed me, that I should be helped through, and that he who made the sun to stand still for Joshua, would bring me quite through ; smce then I have been v/aiting for the full accomplishment of that desire of my heart, which I believe the Lord will grant me, though the favour has been deferred ; yet, alas, alas, I have not wailed as one so suffering and so helped ought to have waited. I am defiled with sin; I have left off to walk so softly before the Lord as I had done before this aid was granted me, and now I am in a plunge again ; and my skies, which seemed to be clearing away, are now obscured by clouds and darkness. Wo is me, for fear I have sinned away God's mercy, and am fearful about the manifestation of his power; his all-sufficiency, his tender compassions, which day and night I have been looking up to him for; yet, oh no ! let me not add to my other guilt the guilt of unbelief! The Lord has caused me to pray ; he will answer the prayer of my petition ; he hath caused me to hope, the strength of Israel will not fail me. Merit of mine own could at no time be the plea for gracious favour or providential mercies ; and now what time I am afraid, and my heart doubteth and trembleth within me, I will lean on Jesus ; I will trust in him ; I will believe that for the sake of this MRS. RAMSAY. 109 dear Saviour, my God will perform for me all this thing which 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 waited upon God ; upon the bountiful God ; from him is all my expectation, and in him is all my trust; O Lord ! keep me watchful and prayerful. June 2d. I can no longer say the skies are dark- ening, for they are so darkened that I see no light ; and I am ready to call myself desolate, forsaken, cast oif by God, yet I dare not murmur : I am not in hell, where I deserve to be. Instead of poring on my disappointments, vexations, and sufferings, I would endeavour, in this dark dismal night of trial, to praise the Lord that there is a haven of rest pre- pared for the weary ; and to lament my sins, which make such deep sorrows necessary to my sancti- fication. my Saviour, put out thy helping hand, and keep me from sinking in these deep waters; let the billows, instead of overwhelming me, make me cleave closer to the cross ; and, O my compassionate Father ! if it be not thy will to grant me the prayer, which I believed thou wouldst have done, having had my heart so drawn out to pray ; yet at least keep me from being over- whelmed 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 hath heard, and 10 110 MEMOIRS OF granted 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 soul be ruined. Lord, do thy whole will; teach me to do, enable me to suf- fer whatever thou shalt see fit, and at last give me rest from all trouble and all conflicts, in the peace- ful grave, and the bosom of my Saviour. 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 difficulties which appear to me, thou canst do that which I 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 poor, tem- pest-tossed wretch, groaning under the burden of sin, and held in bondage by sorrow. O thou good Physician, heal my soul ; compose my spirit; pardon my sins ; hear my prayer ; but, above all things, give me the spirit of sanctification; a de- sire to improve by every 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 ; I am all impotence and folly. Be pleased, therefore, O my God, to order all my affairs for me, and to be a very present help to me MRS. RAMSAY. Ill in this time of need. Give me a sound judgment, that good understanding which belongs to all them who fear thy name and do thy commandments. Be thou praised, O my God, for past favours; and let them be sweet encouragements to me, still to wait upon my God, and to cast all my cares upon him ; in the greatest agonies of my spirit, great is the consolation I experience, in pouring out my heart before him, and seeking counsel at his hands, who giveth wisdom liberally, and up- braideth 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 to my most easily besetting sin ; and I may know thee to be in very truth my reconciled Father in Christ, and be able to add ^Lnother hitherto, to my past experiences. O thou that hearest prayer, unto thee shall all flesh 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 remembrance 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 1 12 M E M I R S O F make me from this time forward, to the conquering of my last enemy, and bidding farewell to sin and sorrow, more closely his than ever, and to enable me to walk holily, humbly, soberly, and uprightly, as becomes a professor of the gospel of Christ. 10th. Let God be praised for all his mercies. Let his holy name be glorified for the blessings of the last Sabbath, when I was enabled to call upon him with my whole heart, and to find some conso- lation and support to my burdened mind in the ex- ercise of faith and prayer. Oh, what in the present perturbation, conflict, 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, Lord, how long hast thou appointed, that I shall labour under this perplexity ! 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 confidence in thee, the God of hope. Lord, having again re- newed my covenant with thee, give me a heart to enjoy the privileges of the covenant; and with holy boldness to draw near the throne of grace ; and, looking up to Jesus, the great mediator of the covenant, by prayer and supplication, to make known unto thee all my requests. Lord, I spread before thee all my wants ; unto thee I pour out all my complaints ; be graciously pleased to attend to MEMOIRSOF 113 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 for which I am still calling upon thee, by 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 watchfulness. Hold thou me up. Lord, and so shall I be safe. June 10th. Holy resolutions, which I desire 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 word of God with meditation. To have my thoughts under better government ; saying frequently to them, " whence comest thou, and whither goest thou ]" To watch against indolence; remembering that the Christian life is a warfare, and that the king- dom of heaven must be taken with a holy violence, and cannot be obtained by the slothful. To watch against extravagance and self-indul- gence, and to endeavour to walk more usefully than 1 have hitherto done. To remember the vow which I have lately made unto the Lord ; and to be looking up to him, with a holy desire, for the time when I shall be permit- 10* 114 MRS. RAMSAY. ted, with songs of thanksgiving-, to pay unto the Lord this vow, and to record his mercy- 11th. Oh, wretch that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this death ! Immediately 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, I am so vile, that I am a terror to myself! O my God, for the sake of Christ, have pity on me, a miserable sinner ! Oh, wash me in his precious blood ; cleanse me from my renewed and aggra- vated guilt; and be pleased to give me thy Holy Spirit, to enable me to be more watchful for the future. Lord, 1 tremble under a sense of guilt ; and am so frightened at my own 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 sinner ; and pardon me, I earnestly be- seech thee. Purify my sin-defiled and spotted soul. Save me from despair. Enter not into judgment with me, for I can hardly abide the con- demnation of my own conscience ; oh, how much less the severity of thy justice ! Suffer me not, O Lord, to go on in any course of sin : and let this renewed experience of my wretchedness and weak- ness make me seek more earnestly for that grace MEMOIRS OF 115 by which 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, therefore, hearken unto me, O ye children ; for blessed are they that keep my ways." To hearken to Christ, includes attending to his providences ; attending to his precepts ; worshipping him with the heart ; by an open profession ; by a suitable conversation ; the blessedness of keeping his ways ; peace and joy in believing God's comfortable pre- sence with them through life and at death, with a joyful eternity; serious address to sinners and to professors. Dr. Hollinshead's text. Luke viii. 18: "Take heed, therefore, how ye hear." This duty includes a constant attendance on the means of hearing, with preparation of the mind before hearing. We should hear with meditation, with prayer, with profession, and with an endeavour to bring forth fruits answerable to our advantages, arguments for this careful attention ; when faith- fully administered it is the word of God, and we must give an account to God for our improvement or misimprovement of gospel opportunities. Ad- dress to the young on the advantages of early religion. 22d, Monday. My mind is at present, and has for some days been in a state of awful conflict. I am waiting upon God for a mercy which I have 116 MRS. RAMSAY. sought so long and so earnestly that I cannot but think God has drawn me to pray for it. By the morning dawn, in the watches of the night, at noonday, 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 situation. Now the promises of God ; his merciful manifestations ; his tokens for good make me hope and 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 exceed- ingly troubled. Succour me! O Lord, succour me, for I greatly need thine aid ! Behold an hum- ble, broken-hearted supplicant acknowledging her- self unworthy of the very crumbs of thy mercy ; yet trusting in thee for extraordinary displays of mercy. Send thy reviving grace, for I am per- plexed. O my God, keep me from sinful mur- murings and distrust ; make me patient in tribu- lation ; and carry on within me the work of sanc- tification ! Lord I be pleased to grant me the de- sire of my heart, which I mean to ask with a holy, not a sinful impatient importunity ; and my soul shall praise thee with joyful lips. 26th. Prepare me, Lord ! for all events that may be before me, whether comfortable or adverse. I am in great darkness ; be pleased to enlighten me. I lack wisdom ; O Thou who upbraidest MRS. RAMSAY. 117 not, be pleased to give liberally, and according to my great necessity. Be thou my counsellor by day and my instructor by night; give me that blessed knowledge vphich comes from thy teach- ing ; let me sit at the feet of Jesus, and learn his will ; learn to know it, learn to do it, and learn to bear it. Wonderful have been thy dealings with me for some time past. Thou hast answered prayer; but oh, in how different a manner from what I expected ! Nevertheless, there has been such astonishing admixtures of mercy with judgment, that I can only love, admire, and praise. While thou hast punished mine iniquities, and by the very methods of granting my request, brought my sins to remembrance and made my flesh tremble for fear of judgments; thou hast given me faith, held up my goings, and made my soul rejoice in thy salvation : and now. Lord, what shall I say 1 I desire to notice thy providences ; to bless thee for thy mercy of yesterday, when so great a burden was taken from my mind ; and I will hope that thy goodness will speedily put an end to the remaining troubles under which I labour, and do all that for me, which my soul could expect from such extra- ordinary beginnings of favour, and which it never could have prayed for so earnestly, if thou hadst not enabled me. Answer me, O my God, in mercy and not in judgment; and let me not lose thy blessings, either from not asking, or from ask- 118 MEMOIRS OF ing- amiss. 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 thoughts, all my desires, and all my prayers such as thou wilt graciously approve. Accept and answer for the sake of Christ Jesus, that great mediator between God and man, in and through whom alone I have any confidence in drawing nigh to thee. July 3d. Desiring to redeem time for sacramen- tal preparation. Much exercised about sins com- mitted since the last month, and my heart very low; when, on serious examination, I find that I have fallen again and again 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 enemy; nevertheless, I think and hope that sin becomes every day a greater bur- den to me; that I am never at rest in the commis- sion of it, and that I am more than usually afraid of its indwelling power, and cannot pass even a few hours without looking to Jesus, and longing for pardon and sanctification ; yet alas, alas ! this is not where I ought to be. I have been many years a professor ; God has been wonderfully gra- cious 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 sanctification, and to have MRS. RAMSAY. 119 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 pardon 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 disengaged from this world. I desire at this time particularly to notice God's providential deal- ings with me; more especially some remarkable incidents which have happened to me within three years: to glorify God for his judgments, and to rejoice in the manifestations of his mercy. I have lately received some especial favours, which 1 de- sire gratefully to remember, and to show forth my thanksgivings with my lips and by my life ; with respect to some other concerns, God is leading me by a way that I know not ; but I am persuaded it will be the right way ; yea, I cannot but think that having done so much for me, so unexpectedly, so compassionately, he will fulfil ere long all my de- sire, and make me to know that he is a wonder- working God. Oh that this may be a day of great devotion with me; may God bless the minister who is to preach, and provide for every seeking soul that which shall be most suitable for it. July 5th. Dr. Keith's text. Isaiah xlv. 24 : " Surely shall one say, in the Lord have I right- eousness and strength." Reviving words to souls 120 MEMOIRS OF ready to sink in despondency under a remembrance of past sins, and consciousness of present weak- ness. Christ is the Lord, in whom we have this righteousness and this strength. Our righteousness as bearing what we had deserved, standing between offended God and offending man. He saves us not only from the guilt, but the power of sin ; he gives us strength for all our work, and all our war- fare ; the Christian life is a constant warring ; a life of diligence, activity, self-denial, resistance of temptations, corruptions, evil inclinations, which we could never accomplish in our own strength; address to the unconverted, to seeking souls, pro- fessed disciples. 12th. Dr. Keith's text. Psalm Ixv. 12: "Thy vows are upon me, O God ! I will render praises unto thee." Vows of dedication of property or persons allowable under the gospel as well as un- der the law, having never been 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 our- selves to be his people, which was the duty of every one. Particular seasons suitable for the making and renewing such vows; times of dedi- cating ourselves or our children by baptism,* and of coming to the table of the Lord ; times of special affliction ; example of Jacob when he left his fa- * See note on page 87. MRS. RAMSAY. 121 ther's house to go into a strange land ; times of especial mercy and deliverance ; example of David, when he penned the 116th Psalm; exhortation to those who have already taken the vows of the Lord upon them in the ordinance 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 perform- ing their vows, and of falling off. The first are in an awful state, the latter have every thing to en- courage ; exhortation to all ; for all have in some degree the vows of the Lord 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 relations, 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 fit of illness; some sore pres- sure of mind or body, have, at some period of their lives, in some way or other, taken 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 binds us to it. A very excellent sermon, and most particularly suited to the state of my mind. I de- sired and attempted in the evening to take a survey of God's mercies to me, both spiritual and tempo- ral ; of my many broken vows ; to beseech of 11 122 MEMOIRS OF Christ to undertake for me, from a sense of mine own inability to keep holy resolutions ; with holy shame and indignation did I complain to my God of the prevalence of my easily besetting sin, in spite of all the vows 1 had made against it; most earnestly did I pray to God to take me then, to re- move me that very night, rather than I should live to be the bond-slave of corruption, or that this ini- quity should be my ruin. I desire to renew a vow, which I made some time ago to the Lord ; namely, if the Lord would grant me a certain favour, which I have for some time desired of him, (I hope according to his will, because I have been most wonderfully drawn to pray on the subject; and when my heart was bursting with grief, I have felt such inward conso- lations, and received such tokens for good as could only come from God,) which favour I also desire of him, as far as I can know myself, with sincere resignation and wishes to submit to his will, if he should be pleased to disappoint me: the vow I have made, and made in the anguish of my soul, is this : if the Lord shall be graciously pleased to perform 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 endeavouring to find out some proper object, thirty dollars. Lord, all my goods are nothing worth, and all my life ought to be thine, Vv'hether thou grantest or MRS. RAMSAY. 123 whether thou withholdest: but I desire to do this, if thou shalt give me the opportunity, as an ex- pression of gratitude : a bond upon my own heart to remember the Lord's mercy : and a means of drawing my heart nearer to thee. In addition to this, I desire to keep two days of humiliation in every year on set days; to sit mournfully before the Lord of Hosts, and to humble myself for those sins, which have been as a separating cloud be- tween God and my soul, and may have been the means of keeping me so long in a state of dark- ness, 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 ! Oh 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 1 Is his mercy clean gone for ever 1 Doth his promise fail for evermore ? Hath God forgotten to be gracious 1 Hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies ]" Introduction. The frame of David's mind, when he penned this Psalm ; the anxious inquiries 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 124 MEMOIRS OF from the judgment of sense, the weakness of faith ; or from taking only a superficial view of the Lord's doings; judging of things according to their pre- sent appearance, without adverting to what may be their final issue. We are permitted to be in this frame, to discover to us the corruption and weak- ness of our own hearts ; for the trying and exciting our graces, and for the glory of God. When in this situation, either from the pressure of outward trial, or the anguish of spiritual distress, we should be encouraged to trust in God, and to persevere in prayer, following the example of the woman of Canaan, instead of saying, why will God so long refuse the desire of my heart] we should say, why should 1 not continue to wait upon God, who will assuredly grant me the spiritual blessings I ask ; and even not refuse me the temporal mercies I wish for, if they be for my good 1 Great encouragement to parents to pray for the salvation of their chil- dren, or of any near and dear friend, who is much on their hearts. Persevering prayer can do won- ders. The longer we have waited for any especial mercy, the more delightful will it be to find God performing all things for us. When God hath heard the prayer of our petition, and granted it in some measure, we should cheerfully acknowledge it, and have a new song in our mouths, even the praises of our God, saying, "Who is like unto thee, Lord! among the gods; who is like unto MRS. R A M S A Y. 125 thee, glorious in holiness, fearful in praises, doing wonders." This sermon was wonderfully suited to the state of my mind, and the situation of my affairs. I have been more than usually enlarged in prayer for our ministers the past week ; and I felt this morning as if God had indeed sent me, by 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. May he find God to be to him, as he described him to us this morning, by way of en- couragement 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 peo- ple, and will make all things work together for their best advantage. Oh that I could have faith and patience to wait the issue of every trial, and not to judge of the Lord's dealings by the anguish of the present moment, remembering the example of Job; for who, said Dr. Keith, could have thought what designs of mercy the Lord had for •this man ; had they beheld him deprived of his property, bereaved of his children, smitten in his flesh, persecuted by his enemies, censured by his friends, and even his God writing bitter things against him ; and yet the latter end of this man was to be better than his beginning. Dr. Hollinshead's text. 2 Timothy iv. 7: "I 11* 126 MEMOIRS OF have fought a good fight; I have finished my course : I have kept the faith." A retrospect of our past lives, a useful employment, 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 fight, im- plies a life of holiness, according to the rules of the gospel : not building on any wrong foundation or setting up decent morality in the room of Christian holiness: it implies also a progression in sanctifi- cation: not to progress is to decline: to fight the good fight includes also perseverance to the end. Address 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 like a dove, that I might flee away and be at rest ! I hoped that through grace I had walked more care- fully, more warily of late, and trusted that, at this season of solemnities, I should be enabled to praise God, for having made a better progress in religion ; but, alas, within a few days I have fallen oflf; ceased to resist with vigour the assaults of my easily besetting sin : and my soul is full of trouble and darkness; yea, my God, whom I have of- fended, hideth his face from me, and I am troubled. O Lord ! have mercy upon me, and either give me power against sin, or full pardon, through Christ, for all my past offences, and a speedy entrance into MRS. RAMSAY. 127 that world, where I shall never sin. Lord ! I am faint and weary ; I loathe and abhor myself. Oh, compassionate my case: help me by thine Almighty power, and let sin never so reign in me as that I should quietly obey it. August 3d. Yesterday was a sacramental Sab- bath. In the morning I felt my heart so bowed down under a remembrance of past sins, and more especially of sins recently committed, that I was ready to set myself down as a vile hypocrite, fit only for damnation, ripe for hell, and so utterly unworthy of eating with the children of God, that I thought I must have stayed at home, in sorrow, and tears, and despair: however, with a trembling, fearing, aching heart, I went; Dr. Hollinshead's sermon was a very excellent and extensively en- couraging one; but, alas, 1 fear I have more need of having my heart broken, than of having it comforted ; for truly I am a great sinner ; when I considered my broken vows, my faithless engage- ments ; that I continue on sinning against mercy, against love ; sinning at this particular time, when I am waiting on God for answers to prayer; and when every power of my soul ought to be engaged in his service ; when I felt that my sins are not trifling ones, such as the weakness of human na- ture, or the strength of temptation might palliate ; but that I am a wretch, deserving of more wrath, and temporal and eternal chastisement, than any 128 MEMOIRS OF creature ever was, who had ever received one-half the mercies from God that I have ; I was afraid to make any more resolutions ; afraid to hope that ever I should be better ; and in the dread of my- self, the inability which I feel to walk perfectly before my God, even for one week ; the dread of being a prey to temptation, and the bond-slave of corruption as long as I shall live, I could only wish that God would be graciously pleased just to save my soul from hell ; among the many mansions which are in his house to appoint for me the very lowest, and to remove me from this state of conflict and warfare, where I am so often foiled. O my Sa- viour I be pleased to hide me in thy bosom ; I am more weak and more wicked than any thou didst ever undertake for ; and if thou leave me one mo- ment to myself, I am lost for ever. O dear Sa- viour ! heal my backslidings ; bring back my wan- dering feet, and have pity on the poorest wretch that ever came before thee ! Above all things, keep me from ever being contented in any state of sin ! Oh, deliver me from being contentedly guilty. September 7th. Three things I have particularly desired of the Lord at bistable yesterday: 1st. That my easily besetting sin might receive its death-wound ; that I may never be under its domi- nion ; or that of any other sin ; yea, rather than I should ever live in the voluntary indulgence of any sin, that it would please God to remove me from MRS. RAMSAY. 129 time to eternity, if I might but have the lowest seat in heaven, where I may see his face and never sin. 2d. The thorough conversion of a very near and dear friend, with such an interference of Provi- dence in some particular concerns of theirs as may be to me, if it be his blessed will, an evident an- swer to prayer. 3d. That my dear husband may be preserved from worldly entanglements, and enabled so to manage his earthly affairs, that they may never interfere with his heavenly business ; and more especially, that we may rather be satis- fied with a smaller portion of this world's goods, than to run the risk of being greatly involved. In pouring out my heart before God, these things were particularly on my mind, and I hope pre- sented through my gracious Intercessor and Medi- ator with some degree of fervour, of hope, and of trust in God ; but something also is necessary on my part, and I desire grace to be enabled to avoid the occasions of sin, more especially of the sin over which I have so much mourned, and against which I did at that time so earnestly pray. May I call myself to a daily account what indulgence I have given to this iniquity ; what self-denial I have exercised concerning it; and never leave watching and praying, till God has granted me some victory, or removed me from the land of con- flict. For the second petition I will strive and look to Christ for help, to walk holily and up- 130 MEMOIRS OF rightly, that so those who love me may see nothing in me, to hinder them from entering on a religious life. For the third, my wish is to manage my family affairs with discretion; to avoid extrava- gance; to make no unnecessary demands on my dear and affectionate husband, that the desire of largely supplying my wants or wishes may not be a snare to him, to make him engage in large schemes for riches, and to this I feel particularly bound by my father's having been permitted to give us so small a portion of his fortune, compared to what he had declared to be his intention, and on the strength of which I lived less frugally in the first years after my marriage than I should have done ; but who, Lord ! is sufBcient for these things; not I, a poor, weak, wretched creature, whose daily experience is an experience of prone- ness to folly and backsliding. At thy feet, there- fore, O my crucified Saviour ! do I fall. Wash me in thy precious blood. Graciously grant me the pardon of my past sins, and send into my heart the Holy Ghost, the Sanctifier, that those things for which I have no power, may, through help ob- tained from heaven, be performed in me and by me. Sunday, January 3d, 1796. Let me not receive especial favour of the Lord, and fail, as I have too often done, to record it. My God gave me on this day such manifestations of his grace, his power, MRS. RAMSAY. 131 his all-sufficienc)'-, as ought never to be orgotten. Exercised with inward conflicts and with sorrow of heart, under which I have groaned for near eleven months past, and which from some peculiar circumstance have exceeded, in kind and continu- ance, all the other sorrows of my life, without any alleviation in outward appearance, I drew near to that God, who has supported me from sinking al- together, and from time to time has granted me such refreshments of grace as have kept me from utterly fainting under the pressure of this affliction, so grievous, so complicated, so inexplicable to any but him unto whom I have daily poured forth my complaint ; yea, and sought him also, in the night season. Some additional causes of sorrow had happened to me within the last week, which had been also causes of driving me nearer to my only helper and comforter, though with much admixture of sin and unbelief on my part. I had been seek- ing of God, the directions of his providence, and the teachings of his good Spirit, with deep humili- ation and with earnest desire through the whole week ; with fervent supplication, again making known unto him the requests which I have so long and so often presented unto him ; yet with my whole soul desiring also submission to his will in whatever way it should declare itself. On the Sabbath morning, my soul panted after God ; and after conformity to him with inexpressible desire ; 132 MEMOIRS OF and thus I went to the sanctuary, and there Jesus made himself indeed known unto me in the break- ing of bread, and in such manifestations of his presence as I rejoice in having experienced ; but I cannot describe them in any suitable manner ; nevertheless I will record them to the glory of God's grace, and as memorials against my heart, should it ever be so treacherous as to forget them. Having poured forth my soul unto God, and be- sought him that he would either give me the desire of my heart, or bow my will entirely to his will ; granting that I might in very deed and in very truth be the Lord's, whatever should be denied me, I felt such an annihilation of self, such a swallow- ing up of my will in the will of God, that my soul lay, as it were, prostrate at the foot 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 will be done in me, and by me, and upon me. This I know I have often 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 which I had been praying for many months, and believed myself praying according to the divine mind, on account of the very great draw- ings out of my heart to pray in the way I did, and which I could only account for as coming from MRS. RAMSAY. 133 God. Now, thought I, what is the Lord about to do; he is either preparing me for an answer to prayer, or by some rough, though right way, to draw me nearer to himself. As yet in every re- spect I walk in darkness, not knowing what the will of the Lord is, excepting this, that I am as- sured 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 the Mon- day; on Monday evening, through Monday night, and on Tuesday morning, I felt the same resigna- tion, yet with some degree of trembling, from something which had happened, expecting very soon to be called to the trial, which I had so long dreaded ; but on Tuesday the will of God was in some degree manifested to me, and I received such assurance about the affair which has so long per- plexed and bowed me down, that I could hardly believe what I heard ; and now God, who has done so much for me, will not leave his work unfinished. No, I believe that the Almighty God, who has so far answered prayer, will perform for me the whole desire of my heart. Oh may I not forfeit the con- tinuance of his mercies, by forgetting this season of his loving-kindness; but may I feel my heart more strongly drawn than ever to the Lord ; may I remember the vows I have made to him in the days of my sorrow ; lament my mercy-deferring 12 184 MEMOIRS OF sins, and walk in holiness before him all the days of my life. August 23d. Eleanor and myself taken with the fever. I had it moderately, but our dear Eleanor was like to die ; she was brought low, indeed, and our hearts were filled with anguish on her ac- count; but it pleased God to give efficacy to the means used for her recovery : a fourth bleeding, more copious than three preceding ones, seemed to relieve some of the most 'distressing and alarm- ing symptoms she laboured under. I did not hide her danger from her; and have since repeatedly urged to her the propriety of devoting to God the life which he redeemed from the grave. Gracious God, enable me not only to teach her, but also to walk unblameably before her, that my precepts and example may be in unison ; and may she and all our dear children be the Lord's in deed and in truth. January 29th, 1797. I no longer note the texts, because my eldest daughter does, which I think a good means of fixing the Scriptures in her memory. November 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. Daring the last three weeks of her sick- ness, I was deeply exercised in soul. Some very especial sins and failures in duty, were set home MRS. RAMSAY. 135 on my conscience, and in her sickness I felt the rod due to my departures from God, and the un- evenness of my walk. 1 endeavoured to seek the Lord, by deep contrition, confession of sin, repent- ance, faith and prayer. I sought the Lord, by day, and spent almost every hour of the night, that 1 could spare from nursing, prostrate before him, taking hardly any bodily rest. I thought if the life of the child should be granted me, it would be an evidence that the Lord, for Christ's sake, had forgiven me those things, which, with so many tears, and with such brokenness of spirit, I had bewailed before him ; and there were appearances of her recovery; but, alas, how 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 en- treated by so great a sinner. Lord, I desire to be humbled, and to acknowledge thy rightful sove- reignty 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 me; and therefore, I desire not only to submit, but to admire the grace that leaves me untouched in any part. From the death of this baby, to the present hour, my body has been in a state of great weakness ; and with 136 MEMOIRS OF regard to the soul, I have walked in darkness. My will is brought into humble submission to the Di- vine will, but I have had none of those sensible manifestations of the Divine presence and consola- tions of the Spirit, which, at some seasons of afflic- tion, have enabled me, not only to bow before the Lord, but even to rejoice in tribulation. Other trials, of a temporal nature, I have also undergone 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 myself 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 ca- lamities be overpast. I desire, O Lord, to devote myself to thee, to beseech thee to be my covenant God and Father in Christ ! Enable me, my God ! to walk 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 me to look back to past experiences ; to call to mind thy former answers to prayer ; and to trust that thou, who hast helped me hitherto, wilt not now forsake me. Support me under the late de- nials of answer to prayer. Show me any unre- pented sin ; discover to me any indulged or hidden iniquity, which may have provoked thee to hide MRS. RAMSAY. 137 thy face from me; and give me that true re- pentance, which consisteth, not only in confessing but in forsaking sin. Lord, thou knowest my pre- sent wants and necessities; the burdens of my spirit, and every inward grief. I desire to be care- ful for nothing, but in every thing by prayer and supplication to make known my requests unto thee. Grant, or refuse what I imagine I want, as thou, O Lord, shall see fit ; 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 infirmi- ties ; 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 tears are not hid from thee. Hear me from heaven, thy dwelling-place, and when thou hearest, have mercy. Suffer, O Lord ! no trial to befall 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, nor, 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. O my God, if it be thy will, remove the pressure under v/hich I labour, or give me that thorough resignation of mind, which it becometh the creature to exercise towards its Creator. 13* 138 MEMOIRS OF O Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, I give myself up to thee, to be, and to do, and to bear whatever thou shalt see fit for me during my journey through life ! Renouncing all self-go verment, I desire to have my will swallowed up in the divine will, and to submit myself to the rightful authority and the merciful 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 than I could for myself. Yet since, Lord, thou dost not only permit, but encourage us to come nigh to thy throne of grace, and to spread our wants before thee, permit a poor worm to claim this privilege, and to relieve her sorrows by pouring them out before thee, and beseeching the interference of thy mercy in her present con- cerns. Doth God care for sparrows, and will he not care for his people 1 Thou dost care, O Lord ! And my faith and hope are in thee, that now, even now, my God, thou wilt 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 Judge of the whole earth do right? Oh yes, he will. Shall not he, who freely gave MRS. RAMSAY. 139 his own Son for us, deal kindly by his redeemed ones "? Oh yes, he will. Be not, therefore, cast down, my soul, neither be thou disquieted within me, for I shall yet praise him, who is the light of my countenance and my God ; yea, I will even now praise him, for whether he gives or takes, he is still ray God ; and, seeing the whole, 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 word of God with more meditation. To lift up my heart to the Lord, whenever 1 awake in the night. To encourage religious conversation in the fa- mily on all fit occasions, particularly with my be- loved 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 without a depend- ance on, and a seeking of his blessing. Not to let a spirit of indolence get the better of me in the education of my children; and in this matter, may God most especially help me; for I find, when any thing presses much on my mind, I 140 MEMOIRS OF am very apt to be listless and inactive in the duty which I owe them. February 3d, 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. I have some temporal affairs pressing on my mind, and am hanging on Providence for the events of the two ensuing days. Yet I trust, that a desire to live to God, and to grow in grace, are still greater anxieties with me than any worldly con- cerns ; yet the Lord, who knoweth our frames, and considereth of what we are made, and is well ac- quainted with our different temperaments and con- stitutions, sees that I am not wholly devoid 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 conviction that he will do all things well. Hitherto he 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. I 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 thankful to be guided by him. If h'e chooses to grant that which I desire, to his praise shall it be recorded. If he MRS. RAMSAY. 141 withhold it, still will I joy in my God, and be satisfied that it is just as it should be; only, O Lord ! while the suspense lasts, be pleased to keep me from unprofitable dejections ; to preserve me in an evenness of mind and cheerfulness of temper, be- coming a Christian, and worthy a follower of the Lamb. Bless my very 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 aud blessing to him and to his children, while my life is prolonged ; and so help him in his difficulties and trials, that he may say, this is the Lord's doing, and it is marvellous in our eyes. O 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 of- ten experienced, it will not now fail me. What time I am afraid, I will call upon thee. In God is my trust; in his hands are the hearts of all men. I will not then fear what man can do. May he enable us to be just and upright to all, and not per- mit any to oppress and be hard to us. March 14, 1801. O my God, I desire this day, not only solemnly to renew my covenant with thee, that covenant which has so long been all my sal- vation and all my desire ; but also to open my heart to those consolations which it affords, and 142 MEMOIRS OF 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 circum- stances require, and which none but thou canst suitably give. As it is a time of perplexity 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 admire thy grace and goodness, and to add another Ebenezer to my past sweet experi- ences of thy fatherly care and overruling wisdom ; and to chide my heart, that it should ever, for a moment, doubt thy compassion, or despond under thy merciful chastisements. Bless, oh bless my dear husband ; give him the light and direction which he needs ; be thou his strong tower of de- fence in every time of trouble ; enable me to be a comfort to him, during our joint pilgrimage on earth, and give us finally to be made partakers of those eternal joys, in the hopes of which our light and momentary afflictions, by thy supporting grace, may be calmly and steadily borne, so long as thou shalt see meet to continue them. Lord, who givest liberally to those who ask, and that without upbraiding, give us the wisdom, prudence, and discretion so especially necessary to us in our present affairs. Help thou us, and so shall we be MRS. RAMSAY. 143 helped ; leave us not, neither forsake us, for in thee 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 with me; yet surely my heart, with g-rateful remembrance, looks back on many tri-als gone through; on many mer- cies received. In all the perplexities of our situa- tion, how good has God been, not oidy to hold our souls in life, but to give the enjoyment of vigorous health to my dear husband and family, that we 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 assisted ! In times of greatest need, how has God helped! He has first, by his 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 difficulty, and when all human refuge seemed to fail me, the Lord has shown that he cared for me, and enabled me to pour forth tears of thanksgiving, after my tears of supplication. Nor will he now leave and forsake me. My faith and hope in him are grounded on his own precious words of promise, and my sweet and long experience of their truth. My God has not taken care of me so long to leave me to perish at last, either by my own folly, or by 144 MEMOIRS OF the hands of others. He will humble because 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 absolute 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 thought with my house full of dear children, what am I to do : I answered to myself, put your trust in God, try to make out, by some exertion of your own, without perplexing your dear husband; and even if some sharp pinch- ing should be before 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 instruction and consolation, suited to all your circumstances. 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 unexpected quarter, indeed from a man who had even said he would not pay, and now at this early hour of the morning ; when I was not thinking of it, he has brought this money." And now let an infidel call this a lucky chance, if, when he had no money to provide for a large family, an unexpected supply should come to his hands; MRS. RAMSAY. 145 but let me fall down and worship before the Lord, and say, thou, that hearest and answerest prayer, unto thee, in every necessity of soul and body, will I come ! This is but one instance of manifold interventions of Providence, which I have experienced, and which, although not writ- ten down in books, are deeply engraven on my heart, and treasured up in my memory ; and, O 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 to-morrow at thy table. Oh give the meat which endureth unto everlasting life ; enable me to feed by faith in my heart on the precious body and blood of my dear Redeemer, the purchaser of every mercy, spiritual and temporal. Be also with my dear husband, on this sweet and solemn occa- sion ; be with my dear Miss Futerell ; and, al- though absent in body, may she have spiritual communion with her dear Saviour, and with his people. Be with my dear children, dispose their young hearts to receive divine truth, and may they, by thy restraining providence, and by an early conversion, be saved from youthful follies, and made pillars in the temple of our God. June 1, 1803. Some sore disappointments have happened to us in temporal matters within a fort- night past, and from quarters most unexpected, especially by my dear husband ; but what then % 13 146 MEMOIRS OF Is the Lord's hand at all shortened, that it cannot save ; or his ear heavy, that it cannot hear 1 Oh no. Be pleased, our gracious God ! to keep us from separating sins, and to enable us, by hum- ble prayer and faith, to make our supplications known unto thee ; and then, though every door on earth should appear to be shut, 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 oh ! let not earthly anxi- eties eat out the heart of spiritual duties ; let not my poor soul starve, but feed me with the bread of life, however pinched, however perplexed, how- ever hedged up and uneasy my ways may be in other matters. O my heavenly Father ! my past experience teaches me to rely on thee. Thou wilt clear up this darkness, thou wilt dissipate this providential cloud, and enable me to say again, the Lord hath helped me. Oh, give me resigna- tion and humility to wait thy time, and be satisfied with thy way. Oh, help to maintain a cheerful conversation before my dear husband, that I may be a help and no hindrance to him. Lord, hear and help thy poor, afflicted, bowed- down, and tempest-tost servant, and make all these things work for good to my poor soul. June 5, 1803. Lord, how shall I praise theel MRS. RAMSAY. 147 Wherewithal shall I come before God, the God of my mercies ? My soul is filled with thankfulness, and my mouth with praise. 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 heard est me, and strengthenedst me with strength in my soul. When my spirit was bowed down under the pressure of worldly affliction, thou hast supported me, thou hast en- abled me to cast all my care on thee, and thou hast relieved that care ; in the hour of extremity thou hast appeared for us, and when our way seemed hedged up with difficulties, thou hast manifested thy gracious Providence, and made us to receive, as an especial answer to prayer, what, under other circumstances, our thoughtless hearts might have received as an occurrence in the com- mon course of things. Let this favour never be obliterated from my heart ; let me record it to thy glory and my comfort ; and when I look back on my last writing, and on this, let me feel, truly God is good to Israel ; and let me most earnestly desire to be upright in heart. Lord, go on to help us ; to help my dear husband. Have we not only received earthly good at thy hands, but have our souls also been fed with the bread of life, and our hearts made joyful with the cup of salvation 1 Oh that in the strength of such provision, we may go on our way with diligence and alacrity ; and 148 MEMOIRS OF seek to grow in grace, and to have our conversa- tion as becometh the gospel of Christ. September 25, 1805. Pressed by care, sur- rounded by difficulties, and in sore perplexity from some domestic circumstances, I come to thee, O my God ! who hast commanded us to cast all our care on thee, and to draw nigh to thee in every time of trial. To thee, O my heavenly Father ! have I long since devoted myself, and I now de- sire to renew the dedication. To call thee my Fa- ther, and to be submissive; to call Christ my Saviour, and trust in his mercy; the Holy Spirit my comforter, and to rejoice in his consolations. Lord, thou knowest all m.y desire, and my groan- ing is not hid from thee. Oh let my sorrowful sighing come before thee, and hear thou the prayer of the afflicted. In every event, O Lord, make me to remember that I have sworn, and that I cannot go back, and that having chosen the Lord for my portion, and desired him above earthly good, I must be satisfied with all that ho 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 liffht. Since it was not beneath MRS. RAMSAY. 149 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 situation. Let thy Spirit teach me ; let thy Providence assist me ; make me to know the path of duty, and dili- gently to walk in it ; suflfer me not to grope about in darkness, nor to be a prey to the restlessness of my own spirit ; but give me some gracious direc- tions to point out to me the right way of duty and of safety. O Lord, help me, for I am very weak ; and my only hope and trust is in thee. November 1, 1805. "Be still and know that I am God." I desire, O Lord ! to be still, and to know that thou art God ; so to know it as to be quiet before thee, and even to preserve a holy cheerfulness, seeing the same word which pro- claims thy sovereignty, and commands our sub- mission, says also, " God is our refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble ;" and surely I have often found thee so ; and now, al- though my worldly concerns be not so as nature could desire, and every outward aspect is gloomy and cheerless ; yet let this be all my salvation, all my desire, all my comfort, that there is a covenant well ordered and sure ; the God of the covenant 13* 150 MEMOIRS OF 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 supplication, my re- quests, with thanksgiving for past mercies, and a holy confidence for what is to come. I am noAV preparing to draw near to his holy table in a few days. Let not earth keep out heaven ; let not spiritual duties be cramped, or spiritual joys hin- dered, by anxious cares for this world. Fed by the bread of life, let me be strong to run my race of duty, or of suffering; and drinking of the wine of heavenly consolation, let my sorrowful spirit be comforted, and all my concerns be trusted with him, to whom with joy and confidence I have trusted my soul. The Lord can clear the darkest skies ; nothing is too hard for Omnipotence. Per plexed as my dear husband's affairs seem ; humble and painful as seem my own ; let the Lord but speak, and he shall be relieved ; let him but order and I shall be succoured. Do I know God to be so able, do I trust in him as my God, and shall I not be satisfied that his will will concur with his power, if it be right for us 1 I desire to be so. Pardon, Lord ! my sinful reluctances to bear MRS. RAMSAY. 151 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 very 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. November 2, 1805. "For I will remember mine iniquity, I will be sorry for my sin." Forsake me not, O Lord, my God ! be not far from me ; " Give ear unto my cry, and hold not thy peace at my tears." Our worldly affairs are very much per- plexed. My dear husband is pressed by creditors and disappointed by debtors. All these things pressing upon feelings naturally irritable, and meeting with a constitution much enfeebled, make it very ne- cessary, and very comfortable for me 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 con- fession 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 repining, 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 152 MEMOIRS OF upon thee for help in my outward trials ; but I de- sire earnestly to seek deliverance from sin. Lord, help me to provide for my children, help me to teach them the way of salvation, and give them grace to seek it for themselves, and to devote themselves to God in early life. If thou permit me, Lord, to draw near to thy holy table to-mor- row, I will carry with me my outward burdens, sorrows, and wants ; I will cast them at thy feet. I will pray thee to support me under them ; to give me some suitable and convenient relief from them, and say, "Thou who feedest me with thy flesh, and cheerestme with the wine of the covenant, wilt not refuse for me and my household, what shall be needful for us." I will also carry the heavy load of my sins ; I will say. Here, Lord, is the cause of my sorrow, here was the cause of thy suffering. O thou, who hast carried our sor- rows, 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 ini- quities, 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 hea- ven, when, by the strokes of his wrath, he might long since have driven me to hell. November 24. I have been endeavouring, for MRS. RAMSAY. 153 some time past, to walk in penitential humility before God ; and as it is a day of adversity with me, to make a suitable improvement of it, by mak- ing it also a time to consider. Blessed be God, that it has been with me a good time ; a time in which I have found it good for me to draw near to my God by contrition ; for I trust he hath drawn near to me in a way of mercy ; supported me in outward trials ; and given me strong desires after holiness. He hath also shown me providential favours, and from day to day supplied our return- ing wants, and smoothed some of my outward difficulties. My soul desires to praise him for the past ; to be satisfied for the present ; and to trust him for the future. He will not leave me nor for- sake me. I am filled with self-reproach, that hav- ing God for my Father, I should ever give way to gloomy apprehensions. Lord, I commit all to thee ; thou knowest my spiritual necessities ; thou knowest my outward pressures. I desire to be still, and trust in thee, my ever present help in time of need ; and with myself I commit to thee, at this time, those for whom I am particularly in- terested. Help my dear husband. Bless my 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 consolations with which he endeavoured to comfort mourners 154 MEMOIRS or on the past Sabbath. Help me at all times to trust in thee, and at all times to praise thee ; and help me every day to do the business of the day, ac- cording to my best ability ; and supply me by thy mercy with that measure of knowledge, improve- ment and strength, which may enable me to do my duty in that state of life to which thou art pleased to call me. 25th. Lord, whatever else I want, let me not want the joy of thy salvation ; if it be thy blessed will, let not my spiritual sky be darkened, but favour me with the light of thy countenance. Under much outward trial, I have lived happily, and walked cheerfully, because thy face did shine upon me ; but I feel now under some spiritual de- jection, some inward darkness. O my Father! if it be only for trial, and to teach me my depend- ance 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 glory ; but I am afraid of sin. Search me, O Lord ! and try me, and enable me to try myself, and to see if there be any allowed evil way in me, that I may resist it, and lead thou me in the way everlasting. Let no un- repented guilt, no cherished iniquity, no neg- lected duty cause thee to hide thy face from me, or separate between my God and me. Lord ! I cannot do without thee ; thou hast called me to do without many that I loved. I have endea- MRS. RAMSAY. 155 voured to bow the head and bend the heart, and as the streams failed me, to drink deeper of the fountain. Great has been the trial, great the effort; but I have leaned upon my God. I have supported myself against his cross, who, for my sake, was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. Strengthened by him I have borne 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 with- out thee. I would not do without thee. Oh, have mercy upon me, and whatever else thou withhold- est, 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 deso- late. Is this so 1 why then are my hopes faint, and my spirit cast down within me 1 Father and mother hast thou taken from me ; the grave covers the most of those with whom I kept up much in- timacy; and various providences have changed the hearts of some who yet remain. The conflict with affliction is great ; my husband is under trials and straits, which make my heart ache for him, and for myself, as tenderly feeling and sharing in all his griefs. My children, though in many re- spects sources of great delight to me, cause me also much anxiety for their souls, and for their 156 MEMOIRS OF future temporal welfare. The Lord hath said by his experienced servant, " None of them that trust in thee shall be desolate." Surely, Lord, I trust in thee for soul and for body, for time and for eternity. Le me not then be desolate. Save me from all sinful anguish of spirit, and leave me not desolate. Thou wilt do all that is good for my soul. Oh let me be satisfied with whatever hap- pens to the body ; it is at present a pained body, the companion of an anxious mind ; yet, O my God, I desire to say most sincerely, not my will, but thine be done. I trust in thee ; Oh leave me not desolate. 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 my drooping mind. Chase away sinful anxieties. Oh leave me not desolate, for, renouncing all other hopes, and all other helps, I desire to trust alone in thee, who hast ten thousand ways by which thou canst send help ; and, with regard to troubled thoughts, hast but to sa}^. 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 profitable 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 for nothing importunately but salvation. MRS. RAMSAY. 157 Salvation for myself and for those who are near and dear to me as my own soul ; and O Lord ! let the joys and the hopes of this salvation, keep thy poor servant from being desolate. Jfay, 1806. "Lord, teach us to pray;" and when the Lord teaches us to pray, what a delight- ful and holy employment is it ] How is the soul supported, strengthened, comforted by thus draw- ing nigh to God, with a prepared heart. Teach us, Lord, to pray ; by thy grace, this shall be the prayer of faith. Teach us to pray by thy provi- dences ; this shall be the prayer of humble de- pendence on God, and quiet submission to all his appointments. When troubles assail us, this 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, comforted, and quieted, by often drawing nigh to thee ; in the midst of adverse circumstances, inward conflicts, and outward trials, may my soul still find its happiness in thee, and never yield to unchristian dejection or com- plaining. "Ye are the light of the world." If this is said of Christ's disciples in general, how defec- tively must they walk, who are not at least the light of their own families. my God, give me 14 158 MEMOIRS OF grace so to walk before mine as to bring no re- proach on the gospel, which I profess. Let my dear husband find in me a Christian friend ; my children, a faithful instructor, reprover, and guide ; and all of my household, while they witness my imperfections, witness also my faith, my hope, mj sincerity, my desire and endeavour to walk uprightly. Tuesday. O thou, who 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 helping, thou wilt not now leave me. Salvation is of the Lord ; the sal- vation of the soul, and the necessary supports for the body; my trust then shall be in the Lord for both. Fulness of grace is wdth Christ, for the poor soul ; and for the supplies of the temporal life, the earth is the Lord's, and the fulness there- of. Suffer me not, therefore, O my God, to de- spair 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 supplied in surprising times and ways. Oh, that these re- membrances and a firm trust in God might keep me calm and submissive under the troubles which now assail me. Oh that the thoughts of death, which, from the many warnings I receive, ought MRS. RAMSAY. 159 to be always present with me, might so engag-e my attention and desire to gird up my loins and to trim my lamp as 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 his help, to enable me to help them, and to do every day with diligence the duty of the day. My heavenly Fa- ther, my Father in Christ, I cast myself on thee, and now that I am afraid, I call upon thee. " And be ye not of doubtful mind." These are the very words of Christ himself, and include, I think, both a command and promise. Lord, give me grace to observe it as a command, and to re- joice in it as a promise ; for, in the keeping of thy commandments there is great reward, and thy pre- cious promises are the sure support of mourning souls. In what trouble hast thou ever failed me 1 Creature comforts, earthly dependencies, have failed me ; but thou hast ever been to me the faith- ful God ; the helper tf the helpless ; my refuge in every new distress. Multiplied have been my distresses for some years past, and with much ado have I laboured not so to give up under the pres- sure of affliction as to be a dead weight to my hus- band, and useless to my children. Great has 160 MEMOIRS OF been God's mercy to enable me to struggle with- out repining, and with a heavy load at heart to preserve a cheerful countenance, and live an active life ; now my troubles seem heavier upon me than usual, my heart more sick, my bodily strength more impaired, and now it is that I desire not to be of doubtful mind. How many times has the Lord helped in days of great distress; and is his hand at all shortened 1 is his power lessened 1 is he not the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever 1 Be still, then, my soul, and banish doubt and un- belief. I am a poor changing creature ; often re- turning to sin and folly, often declining from the steady path of holiness, and often from the sure and comfortable path of quiet waiting upon God ; but he is the Lord, and changeth not ; he abideth faithful and cannot deny himself. My trust is in his mercy, not in my deservings. Therefore, with all the burden of my care, I cast myself on him ; with all the perturbations of a mind open to his all-seeing eye, I bow at his mercy-seat, and hum- bly trust that, making known to him all my wants by prayer and supplication, not forgetting thanks- giving for support under past sufferings and resig- nation under present trial. The Lord will provide, not for 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 their respective tempers and necessities. Send mercy MRS. RAMSAY. 161 suited to each. More especially may thy convert- ing- grace be with the children ; and whatever else awaits them, in this vale of tears, let their souls live before thee. Is any thing- too hard for the Lord 1 No ; then if I am not helped in my present emerg-ency, not the Lord's power, but his will must 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, turmoiled, hardly able to bear up under the heavy load of expected trial, nor could I in my own strength. 1 therefore turn to thee, my God and Saviour, and earnestly crave thy help. Support my mind during the anxieties of suspense, and fit me for which soever way thy will shall be pleased to manifest itself. The un- believing lord said, "If the Lord would make windows in heaven might this thing be." But I know, O Lord, that if thou wilt but speak, it shall be done, and this trial shall pass from me. All hearts are 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 painful anxiety; but I desire, O Lord, also, to be submissive, and to bear the trial, if it must come, like a Christian, 14* 162 MEMOIRS OF and to do all I can to soften it to those about me, by my gentleness, my cheerfulness, and my hu- mility. Yet the Lord not only does not forbid, but he allows us to call upon him in the time of trouble ; now, then, Lord, I lift up my eyes, and I stretch out my hands unto thee. Open some door of hope, some door of relief. In this our time of great necessity, exercise thy forbearance and thy compassion ; and although in all that we feel, and all that we fear, thou dost punish us less than our iniquities deserve, add this, Lord, to thy many manifestations for us in times of diffi- culty, that the rod which hangs over our head may, by thine interposing providence, be removed. Oh, for Christian composure ; oh, for a child-like submission, a calm and humble frame, or that, at least, inward conflict may not unfit me for out- ward duty. Lord, I leave all with thee, and that in the name of Christ, the only way to the Father, and the only medium of mercy, whether spiritual or temporal. November. " I will sing unto the Lord a new song, for he hath done wonderful things for me." Yesterday was a day of peculiar weakness of body with me, and my mind was also much affected. I attended the funeral of Mrs. Nowell, in whom I had considerable interest; saw my old friend, Mrs. Brailsford, in considerable suffering, and had MRS. RAMSAY. 163 a meeting with Mrs. Joseph Ramsay, for the first time, since the death of her two daug-hters. On the evening- of this day, December 21, 1806, I also received a mercy, an answer of prayer, al- most next to miraculous — a sum of money exactly suited to a particular engagement I had entered into for the first of January, with more of trust in the Lord than of outward certainty about it. This sum of money coming to me so unexpectedly, with regard to the quarter from whence I received it, overcame me perhaps even more than some af- flictive circumstances have done ; for I felt as if I had no strength remaining in me, and as if I should faint and die from the mingled emotions of surprise, gratitude, and awe. Oh, let the Lord's name be praised, and let all that is within me bless his holy name. I have waited on the Lord, by humiliation, by fasting, by prayer ; and let this instance of his goodness, added to so many others, encourage me still to wait upon him. I am in great perplexity, in many respects, and in many respects a woman of a sorrowful spirit ; but 1 will cast my burden on the Lord, and trust that he will help and direct me in all my way ; and particularly assist me and give me the leadings of his providence, and the teachings of his Spirit, in what lies before me. June 2, 1808. My dear husband, who is cer- tainly a true believer, and a great noter of Provi- 164 MEMOIRS OF dence, 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 do not, at this time, when we are in such want of money, say that any comes by chance. He smiled with his usual kindness, and said, I only meant that I got it from a passing and not a stated pa- tient. About two hours after he sent me up twenty dollars, just after I had been earnestly praying that the Lord, from the storehouses of his mercy, would send some supply to my necessities and those of my family, which were very great ; and- covering the twenty dollars was the enclosed pa- per,* which I will keep with this note on it, to remind me of the great goodness of my God, and this his most seasonable answer to those prayers and supplications, which I was making before him, with thanksgiving for past mercies, and humble trust in his goodness, through my dear Saviour's merits, for the relief of my temporal wants, or the supplies of his grace to keep me quiet and humble, under losses and crosses. June 20, 1808. It is of the Lord's mercies we are not consumed, because his compassions fail * The enclosed paper, covering the twenty dollars referred to, contained these words : " Twenty dollars, not sent by chance, but by God. An unexpected volunteer payment of a doubtful old debt." MRS. RAMSAY. 165 not. At about ten o'clock last night, while the wind was blowing tempestuously, from a threat- ening thunderstorm, but without rain, the cry of fire from our next neighbour's was given, and threw 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 us that there could be in a matter of that nature ; from the cries and tumult so near us, 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 linen, and most portable articles, be- fore the confusion and heat would become too great. God, who is rich in mercy, has been bet- ter to us than our fears, and we remain here shel- tered from inclemencies, a collected family, with every thing about us as it was before the alarm. The fire was not at Mrs. Crawley's, but at the ad- joining tenement, which yet is under the same roof with her. From the dry situation of these wooden buildings, with their appurtenances, no- thing 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 human point of view, have saved the three wooden houses, so nearly connected. How great then should be my gratitude, that where the wit and strength of man, in less than fifteen minutes, could have 1 66 M E M O I R S O F availed nothing, the mercy of our God has pre- vented the awful calamity, and allowed us to sleep in peace and safety, after such a threatening destruction. May the recollection of this good- ness 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 fa- mily and station, whatever anxieties assail me, may this, and the many other gracious provi- dences I have experienced, silence my fears, en- courage my hopes, and enable me to go on, trusting in that God who at all times has cared for me, and will not now leave or forsake me. In returning to our narrative, we will con- template the character of Mrs. Ramsay as it appeared in the daily routine of social and personal duties. She generally spent a considerable part of the intervals of public worship, in catechising and instructing her children and servants ; in reading with them the Bible and other good books, particularly " Burkitt's Help and Guide to Christian Famihes." In performing this duty, she placed her children around her, and read alternately with them verses in the Bible, MRS. RAMSAY. 167 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 occasionally varied by reading in the same manner the New Testament in Greek, with her sons, and in French with her daugh- ters. 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, as a serious loss. She possessed herself of the names of the new members admitted to the church from time to time, and recorded them as brothers and sisters in Christ, who broke with her the bread of life, at the same table of their common Lord ; and prayed for each individual of them, whether she had any per- sonal acquaintance with them or not, and took a particular delight in rendering to them, and her other fellow-communicants, every kind office in her power ; for she had high ideas of the communion of saints among themselves, as being conjoined into one mystical body of Christ, throughout this world, and partly in 168 MEMOIRS OF heaven, all united under one common head, and bound to each other by peculiar ties. Mrs. Ramsay was uncommonly economical of her time. She suffered none of it to be wasted. By rising early, she secured the most valuable portion of it for devotion and business. A reasonable part of every day was spent in religious exercises ; much in reading well- chosen books, and also in copying original papers for her father and husband. She wrote very fast, and, at the same time, a round, distinct, legible hand. Her father pronounced her to be the best clerk he ever employed ; and it is well known to his contemporaries in business, that he had many, and that several of them were very good ones. In addition to many minor services in copying, she tran- scribed for her husband his History of the American Revolution, Life of Washington, Review of the Progress of Medicine in the Eighteenth Century, and the early part of his Universal History ; nor did she desist, till she had trained her daughters to do as she had done. Mrs. Ramsay was also much engaged in the manual labours of house-keeping. In MRS. RAMSAY. 169 every kind of female employment she was very expert, and despatched a great deal of business in a little time. In reading, writing, and working, she was equally expeditious, and in each department performed as much as could reasonably be expected from one who was exclusively employed in that alone. The amount done in every case was not di- minished by the extremity of heat, in a Caro- lina summer. On the contrary, she often im- pressed on her children, that steady, constant hght work, under cover, diminished the sensa- tion of heat, while it was increased in the case of a hstless, complaining, unemployed person. In teaching, Mrs. Ramsay possessed more than ordinary resources, and took more than ordinary pains. For her first children, she compiled an English grammar, being dissatis- fied with what had been written by Lowth, Ash, and others ; but when she became ac- quainted with Lindley Murray's writings, she laid aside her own compend, and received his, as throwing new hght on what before was ob- scure. She taught her children to read such books as she pointed out to them, with care and attention ; and repeatedly, too, until the sub- 15 170 MEMOIRS OF Stance, not the words, of what they read, was imprinted on their minds. This she preferred to loading the memory with long extracts, com- mitted verbatim. That they might be exer- cised in this more profitable way, she prepared questions on the most interesting portions of ancient and modern history ; particularly, Asiatic, Roman, English, and bibhcai history. These they were expected to answer from their general knowledge of the subject ; but, with- out committing the answers to memory. She has left behind her three packets of historic questions of this kind, which formed her text book, in examining her children, when reading- historical works. Nothwithstanding her multiphed engage- ments, Mrs. Ramsay found time to write many letters to absent friends. In these she was grave or gay, as the subject required. In writing letters of consolation, to persons in affliction, she excelled. In other cases, where fancy was admissible, the sprightliness of her imagination gave a brilhancy to trifles, which imparted to them an interest of which they seemed scarcely susceptible. As Mrs. Ramsay did not keep copies of her letters, a selection MRS. RAMSAY. 171 could only be made from the originals in her domestic circle. The following effusions of the heart are extracted from familiar letters written by her to her daughters, when only absent, for a few days, on short excursions to the country, in the vicinity of Charleston, and are without date or address. " On Sundays I always think of you more earn- estly than on other days. All that regards you regards me ; but what regards your religious con- cerns deeply interests me. I hope, my dear child, in the midst of business 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 business; in the midst of innocent pleasure ; and is a delight- ful exercise of the heart, and a great guard on the conduct. Oh, how happy should I be, to have you, my darling child, 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 weather fit for travelling. I always think of you with more than common tenderness on Sundays. I think the serious observation of 172 MEMOIRS OF the Sabbath is not enough attended to, even among professing families ; 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 is lost, and its institutions are neglected or carelessly attended to, in the same pro- portion will the religious principle decline, and the practical concerns of eternity be carelessly managed. As a parent, then, full of anxiety for my children, in every respect, but most of all for their eternal interests, I cannot but regret every Sunday which I think they spend in a manner not the best calculated to promote those interests, and feel 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 ashamed of such ob- servance." " God bless you, my dear child ; may you all love your dear father ; love me ; love dear Miss Futerell ; love one another. While the social af- fections thus fill your hearts, you will never be very bad children ; but the moment you perceive yourself deficient in these sacred feelings, dread the encroachments of vice, in some form or other ; make a solemn pause, and ask yourself. What am I about] where is my conduct tending] and pray to God to guide your feet into the right way, by keeping your heart from evil." MRS. RAMSAY. 173 " As the eldest, I write to you, to entreat you to remember the laws of hospitality, and be kind to Mr. Montgomery;* to remember the laws of grati- tude, and be assistant to your very dear and valua- ble friend, Miss Futerell. A great deal, my child, depends on your good example ; on the observa- tion which the younger children make ; whether you curb your temper ; whether you begin wisely to observe those laws of self-denial, which will make you happy to yourself and pleasant to those about you. I persuade myself I shall hear good accounts of you. If I do of you, I shall of all the rest." " I beg you never to make any excuse for writ- ing badly to me, because the time spent in writing the excuse would have enabled you to do better. Besides, errors excepted, you really write a pretty letter, and I delight to hear from you." " Mrs. P. has joined the church to-day, and I believe another sister of Mrs. P. Happy those who, in affliction, look to the Lord to be their com- forter, and do not slight his chastisements, by re- newing their pursuits after happiness in a world where it never can be found ; but so far as we im- prove it, as a state of preparation for a better state of existence, then its prosperities will not de- * A sick young gentleman, who came to Charleston for his health, but died at Baltimore, on his return home. 15* 174 MEMOIRS OF lude us, and its very tribulations shall give us a cause for rejoicing." " I have felt more about P. and E. to-day than the rest of you. Such Sabbaths as they now are passing would, without great care, soon tend to weaken in their minds the obligation to keep the Sabbath-day holy. Such Sabbaths as you are pass- ing would impress on your minds the necessity, when we are distant from places of public wor- ship, for calling our families together, and beseech- ing God by his presence to make our houses sanc- tuaries for his service." "I felt it very solitary in church on Sunday without you. But we had excellent sermons. I did not go out anywhere ; and not having my morning Bible readers, my noonday catechumens, or my evening hymnists, I had more than usual leisure to read and pray for myself, which includes every one with you ; and I tried to make a good use of it." " I am very much mortified at being deprived of the horse 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, I shall do the more work at home.' " MRS. RAMSAY. 175 "Mrs. H. is dead. These breaches in our con- gregations are felt by those, who know the value of religious characters ; and make them earnestly pray, that others, from among our young people, 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 they were perishing. 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 do not know whether you have read Robert- son's America. In this doubt, I have sent to the library for Anquetil, or the first volume of Rollin, an author who, although prolix, and in some de- gree credulous, ought by all means to be read. I could wish you, before you proceed much farther in history, to read Priestley's lectures on that sub- ject, which I think you will find very useful. Bear always in mind, that he is a Socinian ; for his principles tincture every thing he writes. Profit by his science, while you lament his errors in di- vinity, and hang on the only hope of everlasting life set before you." "I send Plutarch, and would have sent some other very pretty books, if it had not been for 176 MEMOIRS OF your prohibition. So will not write to me ; I must tell him, Mr. Richardson places the writ- ing of his three most successful 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-house, to erect in its place the present circular church, an appropriate sermon was preached by Dr. Hollinshead. 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. Some feeling ones cried, and many of the old standards were very much aflfected. I was among this number ; but my feelings were rather pleasurable than other- wise ; for I confess the pulling down a decaying edifice, to build a more convenient and hand- some one, made me think of the pulling down of the decaying body of a saint, by death, to build it up anew, without spot or blemish ; and although nature feels some regret at parting with our old bodies, as well as with our old churches, it is a regret chastened with a cheerful and glorious hope of a resurrection unto life eternal ; but this is a very serious letter for such young correspondents, yet, I hope not more serious than their well in- formed mind will relish on a serious occasion." MRS. RAMSAY. 177 On the departure of Miss Futerell for England. " If you do not all feel very sorrowful, I pity you ; if you do all feel very sorrowful, I pity you. Yet I wish you all to be sorrowful, for it is in our cir- cumstances a sacred duty as well as a tender feel- ing ; 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." Written nine days after the death of her father^ to her husband. Charleston, December 17, 1792. My very dear husband, — You have doubtless heard, by this time, that I am fatherless, and will feel for me in proportion to the great love you have always shown me, and your intimate know- ledge of my frame, and the love I had for my dear departed parent. Never was stroke to an affec- tionate child more awful and unexpected than this has been to me. I had heard from my dear father, that he was somewhat indisposed, but not confined even to the house ; however, last Tuesday and Wednesday week I was seized with so inexpres- sible a desire to see him, that nothing could ex- ceed it, and nothing could satisfy it, but the going to see him. Accordingly, on Wednesday noon, 178 MEMOIRS OF very much against my family and personal conve- nience, I set out with faithful Tira and little Kitty, and slept that night at Mrs. Loocock's ; the next morning- it rained, but I could not be restrained. I proceeded to Mepkin, and arrived there at one o'clock, wet to the skin. I found my dear father indisposed, as I thought, but not ill. He con- versed on indifferent matters ; seemed very much delighted with my presence; told me I was a pleasant child to him, and God would bless me as long as I lived ; and at twenty minutes before eight o'clock, retired to rest. The next morning, at seven o'clock, I went to his bedside ; 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 break- fast. In about ten minutes I had despatched my meal, returned to him, and thought his speech thick, and that he wavered a little in his discourse. I asked him if I might send for Dr. McCormick ; 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 almost 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 MRS. RAMSAY. 179 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 heen, in- deed they are, very great. I have been, and I am in the depths of affliction ; but I have never felt one murmuring- thought ; I have never uttered one murmuring 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-gracious ; on the contrary, I have been greatly supported ; and if I may but be following Christ, am willing to take up every cross, which may be necessary or profitable for me. Our dear children are well. Eleanor comes to my bedside, reads the Bible for me, and tells me of a heavenly country, where there is no trouble. Feeling more than ever my dependence 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, niy dear husband, your obliged and grateful wife. Martha Laurens Ramsay. Mrs. Ramsay to Mrs. Keith, when travelling in tha Northern States ivith her Husband, the Rev. Dr. Keith. Charleston, Septembers, 1808. My dear Mrs. Keith, — As my letter is only meant to express the feelings of my heart for Dr. Keith and yourself, I request you will give your- 180 MEMOIRS OF self no anxiety about answering it. I shall re- joice to hear of your welfare through other chan- nels, and shall not expect any direct communica- tion till the time when Providence shall return you safely to your old habitation, and I shall again enjoy those intercourses of affectionate 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 affecting letter, wherein you give an account of Mrs. W.'s renewed afflictions, and of your first meeting. She has, indeed, been closely disciplined in the school of suffering ; and one cannot read of her grief, but with a weeping eye ; but I think it was a kind Providence that sent Dr. Keith to her just at that time, and I 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, painful chastise- ments of his hand. I have tenderly participated in the happy and Christian meeting with Dr. Keith's relations, and in all the well-merited respect and affection, which you have received through all your journey ; and I have been proud in my heart to say, well, this is our minister; these are our friends ; in short, my dear Mrs. Keith, you have ■been in all my thoughts, in all my prayers; and no day has passed that we have not spoken of you MRS. RAMSAY. 181 in the family, more or less. Our city has been most uncommonly healthy, and yet there have been several remarkable deaths, from which we may learn and fear, and be mindful of our blessed Sa- viour's admonition to us, always to watch. Among these, may be numbered Mr. M., who, after a very few days' warning, was, about a fortnight ago, called from time to eternity. By his death, a new breach is made in a family which has lately experienced severe bereavements; and yesterday the remains of that picture of strength and health. Dr. 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 dissolution. His youngest child had been ill for some time, and died about twenty-four hours after its father. May you, my very dear friends, continue to experience the guardian care of our God and Saviour through the remainder of your journey. May you be happy in his presence ; and having enjoyed a full measure of temporal and spiritual blessings, may you return safe and satis- fied ; you, my dear Mrs. Keith, to a circle of fond relatives and friends, and you, my honoured pas- tor, to dispense again, to your attached people, those instructions of wisdom and piety with which 16 182 MEMOIRS OF they have been so often delighted and edified. From your affectionate friend, Martha Laurens Ramsay. The following letters were addressed to Miss Elizabeth Brailsford. They are without date, but from circumstances appear to have been written in England, and consequently between the sixteenth and twenty-sixth years of her age. These letters are arranged in the order in which they were received. My dear B. — What do you think of my beg- ging your acceptance of a pack of cards 1 Yes, I do, indeed, and sincerely hope you may under- stand so well how to manage them as to be a con- tinual winner. Those who play with these cards seek to gain, not heaps of shining dust, but an in- heritance incorruptible, undefiled, and which fadeth not away. Oh, may we learn wisdom from the children of this generation ; and not suffer their care for things temporal to outdo ours for things eternal. See how the gambler gives up his time and talents, and neglects his sleep and meals to gratify his ruling passion; and shall we, who have so glorious an object to engage our affections as the precious Saviour, and whose highest aim should be to love and serve him ; shall we, I say, MRS. RAMSAY. 183 fold our arms in shameful inactivity and be con- tent with our low attainments 1 May g-race for- bid, and may the desirable end in view animate our zeal, enliven our hearts and stir us up to greater dilig-ence. It often makes me tremble to behold the unutterable ardour with which worldly persons pursue their beloved amusements, and with how much languor I follow him whom I ac- knowledge as the Sovereign of my heart, and pos- sessor of my warmest passions. I reason with myself thus : surely he whom my soul loveth is infinitely more estimable than the idol of these deluded mortals ; and if I were as much in earnest 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 ; sorrow overwhelms me ; I go mournfully ; and am ready to cry out, I am no Christian, no child of God, till the conde- scending Jesus speaks this comfortable language to my soul : " Fear not, thou trembling worm. I am thy salvation ; I have loved thee, and will love thee ; I hear thy groanings, and thy complaint is not hid from me. I bear the imperfections of th}'- best services, as well as the guilt of thy worst sins ; thy restlessness, because thou lovest me no more, and thy desires to love me better shall be accepted as an evidence cf thy sincerity ; be not faithless, but believing; pray without ceasing, and leave thy cause in my kind hands ; the men 184 MEMOIRS OF of the world have nothing to resist ; every thing co-operates with their inclination, and, therefore, is their way, for the present, easy. Thou hast mighty enemies to oppose ; the lust of the eye, the lust of the flesh, and the pride of life are all in league with thy wicked heart against thee ; yet, fear not ; look unto me, the Captain of thy salva- tion. Though thy foes be many, they shall not overcome thee ; for I have undertaken for thee, and I will bring thee safely through. When these lovers of the world, having had their good things, and enjoyed the portion which they have chosen, are shut out of my kingdom, then shalt thou ap- pear with boldness in the glory of thy Lord ; and having passed through floods of conflict, and seas of tribulation, and thy robes being washed in the blood of the Lamb, thou shalt no longer mourn thy frailty and lament thy deficiencies ; but for ever thou shalt serve me perfectly and enjoy me fully." Oh, may we no longer be ungrateful to so kind a Master; but with 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 us with his matchless beauty, that we may be crucified to the world and all its follies. Draw us, thou loving Saviour, and we will run after thee. Reign thou the unrivalled sovereign of our hearts, and let nothing tempt our M R S. R A M S A Y. 185 souls to wander from thee. Oh, 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 thus strengthened and refreshed, we may go on rejoicing in our way to Sion, and with holy transport praise continually the God of our salvation. I hope, Brailsford, you will excuse the length of this scribble. I have unwarily enlarged my limits, and I fear have trespassed on your pa- tience, but the adorable Redeemer and his pleasant paths are themes so delightful, and to converse with you an employment so agreeable, that I did not know how to lay down my pen. I think Mason deserves at least the appellation of a pious writer ; and though his style is by no means elegant, yet the sweet comfort and spiritual instruction which many of his writings contain, make them worthy to be read by all those who are in pursuit ftot of the shadow but the substance. I should have no good idea of any professor who could not delight in a sermon, however excellent, that was not delivered with the embellishments of oratory, or like any book which was not dressed with the graces of fine language. A diamond, though unpolished, possesses intrinsic worth ; and gospel truths, however expressed, are highly valu- able, and will be relished by every sincere Chris- 16* 186 MEMOIRS OF tian, even from the lips of the most unlettered memher. I shall see you in about an hour's time, or per- haps sooner ; till then, adieu. Receive the 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 I lament your absence with unfeigned regret. From my first acquaintance I have been attached to you, and every month has beheld you growing in my esteem ; but in the last week which I spent with you, you have entirely finished the conquest, and imprinted on my soul your beloved image, in characters so indelible, that neither time nor absence can ever erase them. How often since the 31st of July have I wished for my Brailsford ; never have I beheld a beautiful prospect, but I thought with how much more pleasure I should enjoy it, if you were with me, and with what satisfaction we should join in ador- ing the Divine hand, which so bountifully clothes the earth with elegance, and enriches it with plenty for the conveniency and delight of unde- serving man. As we are generally willing to believe what we wish, I cannot help thinking that my dear Eliza feels for me, in some deg-ree, what I do for her; MRS. RAMSAY. 187 and that I have at least some little part in her ten- derest affections. 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 eternal. I glory in an intimacy with one who seems so sin- cere 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, re- joices me beyond expression. How much reason have I for thankfulness, that at a time when my heart is peculiarly softened, and I have an utter disrelish for all worldly company, God has blessed me with a friend, who will not despise me for an attachment to religion, but rather encourage and assist me in my progress. I recollect, with a mix- ture of joy and sorrow, some moments that we have spent together, when free from intruders, and could with pleasure transport myself to the dear little room. Yet, dear friend, though mountains lie between us, and a vast extent of land separates our mortal frames, do not our souls hold intimate commu- nion ! They do. Absent in body, not in mind, Our souls continue one. Shall I not add : While each to each in Jesus joined, We happily go on. 1 88 M E M I R S F If in Jesus, it must be happily; what thoug-h for- tune fail, friends forsake, and enemies triumph, let us walk together in Jesus. We cannot sink with such a prop As bears the world and all things up. Oh ! Brailsford, what unbelieving hearts must we have, if we ever distrust a gracious Provi- dence, or indulge anxiety a moment. Who has upheld us from our mother's womb, and who pre- served us in each changing scene of life from va- rious dangers ! Who but the same God, who is still kind, and whose compassion extends far be- yond our utmost thoughts, far, far beyond our deserts. Let us not fear them, but confide in him whose promise never fails. The Rock of Ages is our security, Jesus our advocate, and the Spirit our guide and comforter. Each trial and distress loses its unpleasing as- pect, regarded as the messenger of good to our souls, as the mark of our adoption, and our privi- lege 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 w^ill sweeten ours, and make it pleasant. He having finished his work, and gained the victory for us ; as our forerunner he is gone to prepare for us places, in- finitely glorious, and sufficiently delightful, to MRS. RAMSAY. 189 counterbalance every troublesome incident, and each difficulty we may meet with in the rugged road of life. My dear Brailsford, — It gives me great con- cern to be so long without seeing you ; but as no- thing save the weather prevents me, I will not complain ; for I think to be angry with the wea- ther is but an oblique murmuring against him at whose command the winds blow and the rains fall. I hoped that your dear mamma's spirits are not greatly depressed, and I especially trust that my dear Brailsford, to the honour of her Christian character, exerts her every influence in the service, and to the comfort of this dear mamma, and that her very countenance tends to dissipate melan- choly. Am I not saucy to dictate to you, who are far more capable of instructing me 1 I hope you do not deem it so, since I mean not to teach, but merely, according to the sentiment of the wise man, " As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the coun- tenance 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 me for every rela- 190 MEMOIRS OF tive duty ; but prayer and reflection have taught resig-nation, 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 his feet, Lay me low and keep me there. To a blessed perfection are they indeed arrived, who can number their sweetest moments among the times of their sharpest trials ; and v/ho, in the deepest night of affliction, can rejoice in the God of their salvation. My highest ambition is to have my will lost in the will of a kind, unerring God ; and under every dispensation to lie as a submissive, humble child at the feet of a compassionate father ; to be made one with Christ, and simply to follow the Lamb whithersoever he leads, since we may rest assured that the end of the journey, and the kingdom into which we shall enter, will sufllciently compensate for all the troubles of the way. I beg pardon, my dear friend, for having detained you so long ; but when once I begin a conversation with you, I know not where to end. Burn, I beseech you, this scrawl as soon as you have read it. My un- cle and aunt, my dear friend, are neither of them well ; methinks I see your friendly bosom heave with sympathetic sorrow. I shall be particularly obliged to you for the Archbishop of Cambray's MRS. RAMSAY. 191 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. Laurens. You will rejoice to hear, my dear Brailsford, that I have had the most abiding sense of my own nothingness, and lived in the most happy nearness to my covenant God and Father, ever since I left Bristol. I do not know that I have been one day straitened in prayer, or backward in duty. The candle of the Lord hath indeed shone bright upon me, and the precious Saviour hath manifested his pardoning love and merciful acceptance in a most wonderful manner to my soul. I had for a long while before been walking in darkness and dis- tress, longing for a return of such days as I had once experienced ; and crying out in bitterness of spirit. Oh that it were with me as in times past, that the shadows would disperse and the reviving light break in upon my benighted soul ; at length I submitted myself wholly to God ; acknowledged that his hand was not shortened that he could not save, nor his ear heavy that he could not hear; but it was my iniquities that had separated be- tween him and my soul, and brought me thus low. I bowed at his feet, desiring to be filled with re- signation, and enabled to declare him righteous 192 MEMOIRS OF m all his ways and just in all his judgments, even though I should go mourning all my days. I hated myself because of all my vileness, and resolved, before the Lord, that if I could not find comfort in him, I would never, never seek it in any thing besides. I set myself more diligently to read the word of God ; lived as much as pos- sible in silence and retirement, endeavoured un- waveringly to fix my eye upon a bleeding, loving, sin-atoning Jesus ; and without ceasing, said unto him, for thy passion's sake restore my comfort ; yet not my will, but thine be done. I would not follow thee merely for the loaves and fishes, but be content to partake also of the wormwood and gall; and, oh, my dear B., when he had thus humbled me, made me to suffer for sin, and brought me to the foot of the cross, he gave me in a mo- ment that which he had so long withheld, and sa- tiated my longing soul. From that time I have been in a most desirable frame, day by day, enjoy- ing sensible communion Avith him whom my soul loveth, and filled with abundance of heavenly con- solation. My conscience has been made very ten- der, and I am more than ever fearful of grieving the Spirit of God, and falling into such a course of folly as shall provoke him to depart ; yet withal I have a thorn in my flesh, something to keep me from being puifed up with these large measures of comfort. Whenever pride begins to rear its MRS. RAMSAY. 193 head and swell its haug-hty bosom, I think of that levity which tinctures all my actions, and makes my behaviour oftentimes very unworthy the pro- fession of a Christian. I am now striving and praying most earnestly against a trifling spirit, and hope, through the grace of God, that my labour shall not be in vain in the Lord. From my first conviction I loved my Bible, but it is now become most peculiarly precious to me. I esteem it in- deed, " as a bundle of myrrh, and a most delight- ful nosegay." 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 mar- vellous light. Rejoice with me, that I, who am le.ss 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 satisfied with large draughts of living water. I was reading, a few mornings ago, the third of Hebrews, and I resolved in my mind to mention it to you the first time I wrote. It appears to me one of the most expressive paintings of the dread- ful nature of an evil heart of unbelief in the whole Bible; and to contain enough to incite us to a 17 194 MEMOIRS OF continual praying, that that cursed sin may not hinder us from entering into the rest prepared for the people of God. My dear Brailsford, — With regard to our journey, the hand of God, that kind and bountiful hand, which from the first moment of our lives has been showering upon 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 disap- pointment, but to believe that every particular cir- cumstance is ordered for some wise and good end. I am happy to inform you, my dear aunt's amend- ment is answerable to our most sanguine expec- tations. 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 when he left you ; friendship interests itself in all the concerns of the beloved object, and makes its cares and pleasures her own ; to you, therefore, there needs no apology for treating particularly on the health and affairs of my dearer halves ; on the contrary, should I neglect them, you would be disgusted with my ingratitude and banish me from your esteem. MRS. RAMSAY. 195 From the window where I sit, I behold cloud- topt hills and lowly valleys, rural cottages, and pretty chirping birds, which form a pleasing va- riety to charm the senses and fill the heart 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 w^orks of Nature, while the swelling billows, with an angry roar, dash them- selves 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 you, is the constant wish and prayer of your affection- ate friend, M. Laurens. 196 MEMOIRS OF To Mrs. Wilson. My dear cousin, — I send you the book, Dod- dridge's Rise and Progress of Religion, which I promised, and which I beg you will accept as a token of my affection. I think it a most excellent treatise, well calculated to awaken those who are careless about their soul's salvation, and full of heavenly comfort for those who are in trouble of mind, body, or estate ; you are very much on my heart and in my thoughts, and my earnest prayer to God for you is, that he may support you in all your trials, and so sanctify them to you, that in the end you may have reason to bless him for what at present seems most bitter and severe ; and to say, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted, for now have I learned thy word." With sincere Christian sympathy and friendship, I re- main your affectionate M. L. Ramsay. October 22, 1790. Note to Miss Julianna Hazlehurst. April, 1811. My dear JULIANA, — Will you oblige me so far as to lend me the Memoirs of Miss Elizabeth Smith. This book is not in the library, which is the cause of your receiving this little note of en- treaty from your admirer, and affectionate friend, M. L. Ramsay. MRS. RAMSAY. 197 To this an answer was returned, but by mistake ad- dressed to the daughter Martha, instead of the mo- ther of the same name, which occasioned the follow- ing note : To Miss Hazlehurst. I SHALL never again be able, my dear Juliana, to reproach my daughter, M. H. L. R., for writing a careless note, and still more careless hand, since her discriminating neighbour has seen no differ- ence between her performance and mine, in either style or penmanship. From your favourable opinion of Miss Smith's Memoirs, I shall read the book with a preposses- sion unfavourable to impartial judgment, so much am I influenced by the opinion of those I esteem and love. I am, dear Juliana, your affectionate Martha, Senior. To Miss Hazlehurst. If, my dear Juliana, the contents of the annexed note, (an acceptance on the part of 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 breakfast with us. Dr. Kollock was the first person who mentioned, Elizabeth Smith to us with tender encomium. You have known how to ap- preciate her merit ; and I believe so sincere has 17* 198 MEMOIRS OF been your admiration of it, that in the most valu- able circumstances of her life, you are 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 ma- ternal care has been so well bestowed, to a gen- tleman, (Dr. Kollock,) so capable of valuing female merit. I remain your affectionate Patty. April 9, 1811. — ♦— To Miss Hazlehurst. If you are not acquainted with Bishop Taylor's writings, I am persuaded you will find many things in the book (Taylor's Holy Living and Dying) which I send you, which will be pleasing to your intelligent and pious mind. The devo- tions for solemn festivals are, I think, very pa- thetic, and show 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, Martha Laurens Ramsay. April 12, 1811. — « To Miss Sproat. Charleston, January 10, 1794. My dear Miss Sproat, — The wish you express in Mrs. Keith's letter, that I should write to you, MRS. RAMSAY. 199 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 feelings and sympathy on the sad occasion of your sor- rows, 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 which has smitten, can heal, and God, that has cast down, can alone raise and support the afflicted and de- jected soul. Yet I know it is our duty to weep with those that weep, and our privilege to draw nigh to the throne of grace for others as well as for ourselves ; I hope I have not failed in this duty, or in the exercise of this privilege with re- gard to your family. You have been very much in my thoughts 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 be your refuge and strength, a very present help in trouble. Per- haps we never feel so much of the goodness of God as in times of deep affliction, when they are accompanied by that sanctifying grace, which I trust has had, and will continue to have its opera- tion under the great and repeated bereavements which you have met with, and are still lamenting. When the soul, with deep humility and sincerity, is brought to say, I will bear the indignation of the Lord, because I have sinned against him, and to lament that evil of its nature and those trans- 200 MEMOIRS OF gressions of heart and life, which make chastise- ments necessary, either to call us to repentance or to quicken us in our way : Then is the light of God's countenance ready to rise upon it, for he doth not afflict willingly nor grieve the children of men, but sendeth afflictions in mercy to his people, that they may search and try their ways, and turn again to their God, who is only waiting for this return to show them how gracious he is, and what tender compassions are found in his 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 dis- appointments have taught us the vanity of all earthly expectations and created good. Then, like the prodigal, dissatisfied with our husks, and our far and desolate country, we turn our faces Sion- ward, we call upon God our Father, and desire to be fed with that bread which cometh down from heaven ; and this is the Lord's opportunity ; it is to bring us to this humility of spirit, this broken- ness of spirit, this fitness to receive divine com- munications, that he sends us those afflictive Providences, which force our consciences to a stand, make us examine and try our ways, and lift our hearts as well as our hands to God in the MRS. RAMSAY. 201 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 v^^ill be enabled to sing of mercy, as vv^ell as judgment. Great have been your trials, but great, also, has been the ad- mixture of divine compassion. You have good hope through grace, for the dear friends, who by an awful Providence have been taken from you, that they are not lost, but gone before. Your dear and honoured father particularly was ripe for glory, and is gone to receive the reward of his pious labours. And in the midst of your tears for your- self, your heart 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 have their souls full of holiness ; their hearts filled with joy, and their mouths with the everlasting praises of that God and Saviour, who hath brought them safely through their pil- grimage and fixed them in the new Jerusalem, be- yond the fear of falling ; and now what remains for us to do, but with faith and patience to follow those who are now inheriting the promises. God gives us line upon line, and precept upon precept, but perhaps no precepts sink so deep in our hearts as those which come in the form of crosses. We 292 MEMOIRS OF 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 de- pendence on God, as the running dry of one spring of earthly enjoyment, and we hardly ever feel this the wilderness world which, in reality, it is, till some of our comforts fail or forsake us, and we begin one way or other to feel very much alone in it ; then we turn to God, and desire to find in him that rest to our souls, which we can find in no- thing 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, who himself was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief, to give us both such a sanctified use of our respective crosses, that we may be the better for them in time, and praise him for them through all eternity. I trust the heavy cloud of your bereavements has burst with some blessings over us here. Our worthy Mr. Keith appears to have been affected and touched to very good purpose ; and has given us not a few such sermons since the visitation on your city, and the deaths in your family, as show his mind to have been most piously exercised, and of which he will see the blessed effects when he comes to find out more perfectly in heaven, than he can or than it would be right for him to know on earth, the souls whom he has edified, strength- MRS. RAMSAY. 203 ened, and comforted by his faithful labours among us. I have, by one circumstance or other, been much less with your dear sister than I could have wished ; but I am happy to say that God, in whom she believed, has graciously supported her 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 care, that you may be a mutual blessing to each other ; and I remain, with great sympathy and affection, yours, Martha Laurens Ramsay. Charleston, Sept. 13, 1796. My dear Miss Sproat, — 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 en- deavour 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 204 MEMOIRS OF dead, or with more Christian propriety express myself by saying, she who has long lived the life of faith on earth, now lives, as our hope and be- lief for her in Jesus is, the life of vision and glory in heaven 1 She who but a few hours ago was im- bodied in flesh, troubled by sin, depressed by weakness, is now a glorified spirit, free from sin, free from sorrow, and has for ever done with the evils of mortality ; it is so, indeed, my dear Miss Sproat. At five o'clock this morning, your dear sister bid farewell to sin and sorrow, after an ill- ness (supposed to be an affection of the liver) not deemed dangerous till within 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 time I have men- tioned above. From the day she was thought seriously ill she has declined very rapidly, and for some part of this time her ideas suffered consider- able derangement. Nevertheless she has given such testimonies of her confidence in God, of her trust in and dependence on her Saviour, even in the dark valley of the shadow of death, as are highly consolatory to us who have witnessed them. As long as she could speak she spoke for Christ, and when she had no longer the power of utterance, with any degree of ease, she gave signs of joy, and short answers expressive that the pro- MRS. RAMSAY. 205 mises which we whispered in her ear were savingly, preciously, comfortahly applied to her heart. And now, my dear Miss Sproat, what shall I say to you ? I feel disposed to say to you, in the midst of the sorrows of nature and the bemoanings of sisterly affection, Rejoice in the Lord, and again I say, Rejoice. Let 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 sub- mit, but even to rejoice in this tribulation ; and may the Spirit of grace and consolation bring such promises and gospel supports to your recol- lection as may be suited to your case, and which, did I feel myself equal to the undertaking, I could but suggest ; He only could apply. I should say something of our very dear friend Mr. Keith. Oh, he behaves under this trial like the affectionate friend, the tender, bowed down, bereaved husband ; yet like the exercised, the experienced, the esta- blished Christian. I trust he has learned many a useful lesson from our departed friend, and I hope he will now be enabled to put them in practice. You will excuse me from writing more 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 Miss Sproat, and all most intimately interested in the dear de- ceased ; and sanctify this stroke of his providence to many in the congregation, who have been wit- 18 206 MEMOIRS OF nesses of her zeal and sincerity in the service of our dear Lord and Master ; that, in addition to the good 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 dear Miss Sproat, I remain with sympathizing regard, your friend and servant, Martha Laurens Ramsay. To Miss M. E. L. Pinckney. " That it is better to go to the house of mourn- ing," is not only one of those assertions which, coming from the pen of inspiration, we are bound humbly to receive as truth ; but I believe, dear Mary, the experience of every feeling heart, which has gone on but a moderate w^ay in the journey of life, will testify, that by the occasional sadness of the countenance the heart is made better ; and that sympathy with our fellow-creatures is not only grateful to them, but useful to ourselves. I went early into the garden to breathe fresh air, and delight myself wdth the fair face of na- ture, and to cut some sweet flowers for my sweet Fan 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 morn MRS. RAMSAY. 207 ing- 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 lessons of to-day, and not only rejoice in the many sunshine days of 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 to come early and drink tea with them. Darling Sabina, with all her youthful spirits, has shown so much feeling for poor Mrs. Coram, as makes me love and admire that sweet elasticity of her virtuous mind, thus accommo- dating itself to passing circumstances, more than I can express. Adieu, dear girls, and believe me tenderly yours, M. L. Ramsay. EXTRACTS FROM LETTERS WRITTEN BY MRS. RAM- SAY, TO HER SON AT PRINCETON COLLEGE.* From Martha Laurens Ramsay, to David Ramsay, 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 * Many of the same kind, written by her on a pre- ceding similar occasion, were unfortunately destroyed in 1782, when the college was burned. 208 MEMOIRS OF chamber, and relieve my labouring heart, by com- mending you solemnly and affectionately to the good providence of our heavenly Father. I com- posed myself as soon as possible, and set about my accustomed domestic duties. Soon after. Dr. Abeel 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. While I was in your chamber, I discovered the little treatise (Dr. Waterhouse's Lecture to the Students of the university at Cambridge on smok- ing Tobacco) which your father had requested you to read, and which, in the main, I approve of so highly that I have given away half a dozen to persons in whom I am much less interested than in you. I sent it after you by Coony, 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 after- noon, there came up a severe thunderstorm ; and while Mr. Palmer was in the act of praying for you and your fellow-passengers, the flashes of lightning and peals of thunder added not a little to the solemn feeling of many persons in the church, interested most tenderly in the fate of the mixed multitude on board the Pennsylvania. MRS, R A M S A Y. 209 I shall be counting the days till I hear from you. It will be no disappointment to me, or ra- ther it will give me no pain, to learn that you have not entered the junior class ; to whatever class you belong, do your duty in it. Be respectful to your superiors, live affectionately with your equals ; make yourself a party in no broils, but mind your own business ; give dignity to the Carolinian name ; write to me accurately on every subject 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. Your grandfather, Laurens, used to say, if men made a good use of only the book of Proverbs, there would be no bankruptcies, no fail- ures in trade ; no family dissensions ; none of those wide-spreading evils which, from the careless con- duct of men in the common concerns of life, de- solate 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 tender affection subscribe myself your friend and mother, M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. May 14, 1810. I NOW write to you, dear David, to thank you for your letter from on board ship, which I received 18* 210 MEMOIRS OF the day before yesterday ; and which was highly acceptable both to your father and myself. If your father and I were not very loving and very industrious people, we should feel very soli- tary at present. John, David and James at a dis- tance ; the rest out of hearing ; and all the young ones away. These circumstances make a great change in our household, and one which needs both love and labour to make it tolerable. There is now no polite attention at the long table to wait till a . servant is disengaged. Even slow-paced Jack is more than we want at our lessened 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 delight your ship-letter had given your parents, as a mark of attention, affection and home- love, I am sure it would make your heart happy. My anxiety that you should behave well, and make the very best use of your collegiate oppor- tunities, 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 Carolinian triflers, whose conduct has brought a college, such as Princeton, into disrepute. I hope you will feel a laudable pride in inheriting your father's literary reputation in the college where he MRS. RAMSAY. 211 received an education, of which he has made so excellent an use ; yet an education much below what you may receive at the same institution, from the great improvements made in every branch of science since his time. I hope absence will not weaken your affection. Continue to love us ; the more you love your father and mother, the more you endeavour to oblige them, the wiser, the bet- ter, the happier you 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 having been a good son will fill you with inexpressible 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, 1810. An open candid disposition endears a young person much to his friends, and must make him very comfortable to himself. That sort of reserve which arises from a consciousness of having wasted the time which ought to have been devoted to study ; and being consequently unprepared for answering any questions proposed ; or from a sul- len unyielding temper, which shrinks from inves- tigation, except when proceeding from tutors and masters it cannot be avoided, is a reserve so un- 212 MEMOIRS OF 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 occasions besides that specified above. Even an incorrect answer, if given in an amiable tone of voice, indicating- a de-' sire to be set right if found, in error, is preferable to silence, or to an unwilling reply, even if a cor- rect one. God has given you an excellent under- standing. Oh, make use of it for wise purposes ; acknowledge it as his gift; and let it regulate your conduct and harmonize your passions. 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. I am glad you like your room-mate. I hope he is one who will set you no bad example, and with whom you may enjoy yourself pleasantly and in- nocently. I delight to hear every thing about you, and you can have neither pleasure nor pain in which I do not sincerely and affectionately par- ticipate. Eleanor and I drank tea with jVunt Laurens, last evening. Frederick, fourteen days younger than William, was learning frudus and carnu, 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 MRS. RAMSAY. 213 in a corner smiling, and helping Frederick when- ever he seemed to be at a loss. The girls all send their love to you. Mrs. Coram is constant in her inquiries after you ; so are many other friends. It is a charming thing to be beloved. God bless you, my very dear child ; may he watch over your youth, and keep you from shame. I embrace you with an overflowing tide of affection. Martha Laurens Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. July 18, 1810. From the tenor of your last letter, it may be fairly inferred that you are dissatisfied with the strictness of a collegiate course ; and if you should not go through a collegiate course, what then ? Can you go through any virtuous course without economy, industry and self-denial ? Can you fit yourself for usefulness on earth, or happi- ness in heaven, in any other way than doing your duty in the station in which God has placed you ? And if your chief ambition is, without caring whether you are as wise, or good, to wish at least to be richer than your father or mother, will not a diligent attention to collegiate studies and duties be the readiest method to fit you for such emi- nence in whatever profession you choose, as shall 214 MEMOIRS OF enable you to attain this golden treasure. I assure you, many young men with less means than you have or are likely to have, (for nothing really ne- cessary or comfortable, I trust in Providence, shall be wanting- to you,) have felt it a great privilege to go through a collegiate course, and have afterward come to be eminent, respectable, and wealthy. I would never wish my judgment to be warped by my feelings, especially by offended 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 ex- tremes would be best avoided. " Give me thine heart, my son," is the language of Scripture; and where there is any heart worth giving or worth having, I believe it is seldom refused to the au- thors of our being. Hie 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 reciprocate the tender charities of domestic endear- ment, and ever cheerfully sacrificing something of their own convenience for the advancement of their brothers. I pray God to bless you, and to give you grace to make a good use of an under- standing, which I am sure you possess, to give a MRS. RAMSAY. 215 right bias to energies and sensibilities, which, wrongly directed, will make you foolish and mise- rable. With sincere prayers for your improve- ment in wisdom and virtue, wishing you an aifectionate heart and industrious habits, I remain your faithful friend, your tender mother, M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. Aug. 26, 1810. Dear David, — I am 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 writing to you. You know however all my mind toward you ; have my precepts and opinion upon every subject which can materially interest you; and whether I write or am silent, my maternal love, my tender anxiety for my son, for my dear hus- band's namesake, can never be for one moment a matter of doubt to you. Miss Futerell, expects to embark for Liverpool, on her way to London, the day after to-morrow. Business of importance, and the desire of being with her mother, become aged and infirm, is the cause of her voyage. She has been attempting a return to England for many months ; but the ob- structions to an intercourse between that country 216 MEMOIRS OF and ours made it impossible to get a passage, but by some very roundabout way. Your father is more af- fected on this occasion than it is common for men to manifest. 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 cer- tain degree, participate ; she loves you with a very warm affection, and entertains such an opinion of your heart and understanding, that she is often saying, I expect great things from David ; she w^ill 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 espe- cially 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 ; particularly, do not be uneasy about David ; he will do well. Exhort him to be industrious ; not to be contented 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 knows the truth ; he has imbibed sound principles ; 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 # MRS. RAMSAY. 217 true ; she has always been a kind friend and ad- viser 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 mother to be. I hope you will now recollect all her admonitions of love, and profit by them. If you were a little older, had well profited by your education, and we could meet the expense, I should have no objection to your accompanying this dear friend ; and while she was transacting her business, that you should be taking, before you settled down in life, a survey of that world 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 prudent, and most virtu- ous of your companions. I wish I could inspire you with a' laudable ambition, and with feelings that would make you avoid any unnecessary in- tercourse with the bucks, the fops, the idlers of college ; and think that the true intention of going to a seminary of learning is to attain science, and fit you hereafter to rank among men of literary and public consequence. Our intention is that you shall spend the vacation with your uncle in Baltimore. You will be at Philadelphia in pass- ing. You will be kindly treated by your uncle and his family, and you will find enough to amuse 10 218 MEMOIRS OF you in Baltimore, which is said to be the third city in the United States. At some future oppor- tunity you may visit New York and Boston. But in order to accomplish all, or any of these pur- poses, you must be frugal, and not attempt to vie in wasting- money with the sons of rich planters, who only g-o 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 additional 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. With all .a mother's heart, I remain, dear David, yours, M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. September 11, ISIO. Dear David, — I wTote to you not long ago, telling you of the departure of my dear Miss Fu- terell. Her absence makes every thing 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, this consola- tion : that by every act of their lives they show how much they have profited by her advice and example. Never were parents more blessed than your father and I in daughters ; and I hope God MRS. RAMSAY. 219 will return seventy-fold into their bosoms the com- fort they give to ours. Your time of vacation is drawing- on. I trust you are not losing your time for study, and that as you grow older you are re- sisting every propensity to idleness or folly of any kind. Your judgment must be well informed. You have lived from infancy within the sound of good advice ; and although some dispositions are restive under any advice that clashes with their present gratification, I flatter myself you have a more ingenuous disposition, and that no effort on the part of your parents and friends, to make you wiser and better, will finally be lost upon you. Could you know my anxiety about you, inde- pendently of nobler motives, I think even a spirit of compassion for an afflicted friend would make you conduct yourself wisely. In the course of a life, not yet very long, I have seen many young persons, with every possible advantage for culti- vating their talents, improving their minds, and becoming estimable members of society, lost to themselves, a disgrace to their friends, plagues to society, or mere ciphers in it, from indolence, a slight manner of pursuing their studies, smokino-, drinking, an excessive love of finery, of triflino- company, or some similar evil indulged in, be- tween the age of fifteen and twenty. Oh, how I shudder, and what a death-like faintness and op- pression seizes my poor heart, at the thoughts of 220 MEMOIRS OF how I stand, in the persons of sons, exposed to such a calamity. With bended knees and stream- ing eyes, I pray my God send me help, and ward off such a stroke. I have also seen those who, with very scanty means and almost under every possible disadvantage, have, under the smiles of heaven, been friends, 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 circum- stances, have repaid the labours of a father and the tender exertions of a mother, by doing their part well, and returning home from their different seminaries of education, just such as their parents could wish. O 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 him not waste the morning of his days in any trifling pur- suit, or disgrace it by any thing vicious or ignoble. Dr. Keitli gave us, yesterday, an excellent ser- mon on these words : " Who can understand his errors? Cleanse thou me from secret faults." We ought, dear child, to take great pains to un- derstand our errors. W^e have every one, by na- ture, some secret error, some constitutional defect or vice. In childhood, the advice or authority of MRS. RAMSAY. 221 parents may restrain it ; still it is there ; as we grow older, we must watch for ourselves, restrain ourselves, look up to God for help, while we ex- ercise such acts of self-denial as shall break the bias and keep it from producing a vicious habit, which, alas, may become 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 to pay very slender attention to the advice of their superiors. This is a ver}'' great error ; as by such conduct they not only deprive themselves of the experience of those older and wiser than themselves, but they appear, and really are, very unlovely in their tempers, to those who reprove or advise them, whether parents or others. At your time of life every false appear- ance of pleasure is taken for a reality, and the re- straints of virtuous industry and hard study a bur- den too heavy to be borne. May God give you wisdom to understand your errors, and a manly resolution to resist every temptation to evil ; make you lovely in your temper, diligent in the pursuit of useful science, and enable you, by conciliatory and engaging manners, to make friends to your- self among the wise and good wherever you go. I will do all in my power for my dear children, and must then leave the event to God and their own exertions. I hope they will reap the benefit of my labours when I shall be quietly resting 19* 222 MEMOIRS OF from them. I hope you will always look on Dr. vSmith, not only as president of the college, but as a very dear friend of your mother, and so ac- customed to youth as to know every twisting 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 strangers to me, though relations, except himself; and from your uncle I received such brotherly aifection as entirely gained my heart. Dr. Waddel has much trouble from the increased number of his town boys. The Charlestonians carry their idleness, their impatience of control, their extravagance, their self-consequence with them wherever they go, and even the best of them are, in general, far inferior to what, with their quick capacities and lively imaginations, they might be, if they would make the virtuous endea- vour. I remain, with great affection, your friend and mother, Martha Laurens Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. November 7, 1810. Dear David, — The number of my letters should be no rule for you ; you know well the state of my health and of my affairs, and that every letter I write is in the time stolen from sleep or business, for my eyes do not permit my vv^riting in the even- MRS. RAMSAY. 223 ing, my only season of leisure. Since your sis- ter's departure, I have still more to do, witli less spirits for performance ; and during the last month every housekeeper in the interior of the city has been kept in a state of alann from the dread of fire, increased by the dry state of every thing about us, from the long want of rain. Surrounded 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 gnawing anxiety about you. Sixteen, seventeen, eighteen! ah, what im- portant 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 exposed from within and without ; and yet what an age of confidence, of self-conceit ! How seldom is the eye turned to Heaven, or the ear open to the admonitions of experience, wisdom, or friendship! Even the remonstrances of science, the reproofs of paternal authority, the counsels and entreaties of maternal tenderness are scarcely heard amidst the turbulence of youthful passions, and incitements to irregularities. My tears flow and my heart aches, while, with the 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 224 MEMOIRS OF actions ; I can only g-ive you good advice in gene- ral, and pray to God for you. One great guard of youthful virtue is industry. Be then industrious, and employ every moment of your time to some valuable purpose. I long to hear from you. I am with sincere affection, your friend and mother, M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. November 21, 1810. Dear David, — T am filled vrith extreme 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 vaca- tion, you have written but once. I have only heard of you, if I may so express myself, nega- tively. 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 de- clares that, with your good sense, your knowledge of your situation, as one of a large and not rich famil}^, and the necessity of your own exertions MRS. RAMSAY. 225 to enable you to maintain an honourable standing in society, he feels confident you will never act materially wrong, — I can only reply, 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 feel- ing a trembling anxiety that all is not right with her son. Your time for improvement will be quickly past; if it is not improved, you will find your- self grown up with the pride of what you call a gentleman ; you will have no patrimony to lean upon; your natural talents will be of compara- tively little consequence to you, and you will have no talents so cultivated and ready to be brought 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, espe- cially if he is a dressy fellow, is the meanest ; and yet this is generally the character of young men of good family and slender fortunes, unless they take an early turn to learning and science. I could wish to write you many little local and do- mestic matters of news or amusements, but terri- fied as I am by hearing nothing of you, — nothing from you, and interpreting this, no news from a cherished son, as bad news, my mind is quite out of tune for any thing of the lighter kind. I was 226 MEMOIRS OF SO much attaclied 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 virtuous and affectionate children, that wherever there is silence, I dread lest there should be 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 pray for you by day and by night, I remain, dear child, your most affec- tionate friend and mother, Martha Laurens Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. March 5, 1810. Your letter of November 19 contains this sen- timent : " A collegiate course is not very neces- sary to eminence in a profession." Contrast this with the follov/ing extract from a letter, dated Willinglon, June 30, 1807. "I WOULD not omit going to college upon any consideration, for I believe it is very difhcult for a young man, who has not had a collegiate educa- tion, to get into an extensive practice of any pro- fession." Contrast "The necessity of spending much money in order to maintain as genteel a MRS. RAMSAY. 227 Standing in college as is necessary to be respect- ed," with " Dear mother, I am now a very reputa- ble member of society, I am made very much of by Dr. Waddel, and am beloved and respected by all the good boys in the school." You stated some time ago, that had four hundred dollars a year ; we know that, from his mother, who said this covered every expense; you have received money in the same proportion, and rather more. You now talk of spending one hundred dollars for clothes. Your wardrobe must be unnecessarily costly or miserably laid in, and you know that you have no pretensions to waste, from the idea that it will not be felt by your pa- rents. You are well aware that it is with much exertion we provide what is comfortable, and have no money to throw away. What a weak mind you must have, and how much have I been de- ceived in its texture, if you suppose that foppish clothes and foolish expenses, or what you call "a genteel appearance," will make you respectable ! I feel more pride, more consciousness of being a lady, by having every thing about my person, the persons of my children, my household, in the plainest style of decency, than I possibly could by endeavouring to cover our moderate circum- stances by a tinsel veil of finery, which would de- ceive no one, and only show the shallowness of my understanding. 228 MEMOIRS OF With prudence, one hundred dollars will g-o 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 year at col- lege. A lad, son to perhaps the richest parents in Carolina, with only one brother to divide the in- heritance, wrote to request his mother, that let him solicit ever so earnestly, his parents would never furnish him with more than five hundred dollars ; for that sum would enable him to do many foolish and many generous things, and all beyond it would be shameful dissipation, to which he knew he was too much disposed, and therefore requested temptation might not be administered to him. Mr. T. S. Grimke assured me, that with four liundred dollars one might live well at New Ha- ven, and purchase many books ; but why multiply examples ] The real expense of boarding and tui- tion in colleges is a matter well known from printed statements ; it is easy, therefore, to calcu- late what beyond it is necessary for the clothing, pocket-money, and conveniences of a young man, who does not go to college to be a fashionist, to sport various changes of apparel, to drink, to smoke, to game, but to lay in a sufficient stock of knowledge, and to attain such literary honours as may be the foundation of future usefulness — a for- MRS. RAMSAY. 229 tune to him. With reg-ard to your spending- a couple of succeeding years in Charleston, I will oppose all my influence to so mad a scheme. You should rather spend them in the Indian country, and learn the rugged virtues of savages, than in the desultory, dissipated habits of Charleston. I flatter myself your last letter was written under the transient impression of some juvenile folly, which is already dissipated, and that your next letter will be more judicious, better reasoned, and in every respect more worthy yourself. I feel deeply anxious about you ; your long silence, the silence of Dr. Smith, after having been my corre- spondent for so many years, all perplex me. I cast you and all my cares on God; praying him 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 than many. • May God take care of you. Your aflfectionate mother, M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. March 11, 1811. Dear Child, — Your last letter was written in a strain of aflfection and good resolution, which gave me great pleasure ; and I hoped would have been followed up by more such. I have been con- fined for upwards of a month by indisposition, 20 230 MEMOIRS OF and have only left my house within ten days to attend your uncle's sick room. It has heen 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 fear losing the opportunity. May God bless you, my dear son, and make you a son of comfort and honour to your dear father, and your most affectionate mo- ther and friend, Martha Laurens Ramsay.* * If any should object to the propriety of pubUshing these private confidential domestic letters, the editor apologizes, by observing, that the importance of their contents, as cautions to youth remote from their pa- rents at seminaries of learning, and also to parents, as models for corresponding with their absent sons, and discountenancing their juvenile follies, outweighs, in his opinion, all minor considerations. In justice to the youth to whom these letters were addressed, it is declared, that he has never incurred any college censure, nor has he ever been charged with any immoral 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 completed ; and that the friendly monitions of his mother were not so much reproofs for what had taken place, as provisional guards against what might take place in future ; and that there is good reason to MRS. RAMSAY. 231 Mrs. Ramsay's sister, Mary Eleanor Pi nck- ney, departed this life in 1794, and in the 25th year of her age, leaving two daughters and a son. These naturally excited the tenderest feehngs of their affectionate aunt. As they grew up, an interchange of kind offices almost daily passed between them. To accommodate herself to her young friends, their aunt laid aside the superiority which age and relation- ship gave her, and, placing her nieces on the footing of daughters, mingled with them as equal friends, and exchanged notes with them, which were frequently written with a pencil, 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 communi- cate happiness to all around her. believe that these letters, in concurrence with other moral causes, have had the desired 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 publishing them was communicated in the same let- ter which asked for their transmission. 332 MEMOIRS OF To Frances Henrietta Pinchiey. You shall not be jealous, dear Fan, about not re- ceiving a letter from me, after such a sweet, feeling note as you have vrritten me. Cherish, my darling niece, those w^arm sensibilities for your fellow- creatures, and notwithstanding the various ills that " flesh is heir to," they will yield you more plea- sure, in going through life, than ever they will pro- duce you unmingled pain. I am really proud of your note, and think how happy I am in daughters both at home and a little way off. I feel less grieved that you do not flatter me with the hopes 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 perhaps, a long teasing musquito of a visit. Well, I do love Sunday on many accounts ; and, as William, in the anticipation of his pocket-mo- ney, 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 ? Good-by, dear Fan. Tell Mary to turn that naughty cold out of doors, or I will not send her any flowers for her bow-pot, for I shall be afraid that smelling those sweet roses too much has hurt ber delicate nerves, and made her feel as if she had a cold. From your affectionate, M. L. Ramsay. MRS. RAMSAY. 233 From the Same to the Same. I REGRET, dear 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 1 believe on our side the chimney, we felt sorry for the signal of "more house." I have just dismissed my scholars, and feel a little like a tired old schoolmaster, so you must excuse this short note. I hear Patty capering about in the hey- day of youth and freedom from care, so I refer you to her for something amusing, and conclude 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 migno- nette in a wine-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-loving and niece-loving M. L. Ramsay. To F. H. Pinckney, Dear Fan, — 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- 20* 234 MEMOIRS OF paw. I shall be very much mortified if you do not drink tea with me this evening-. It is by no means cold ; and if you wish that sweet bloom to continue in your cheeks, you must let it some- times meet the wholesome breeze. My love to Mary, and longing to see you both, I remain, dear girls, your attached and affectionate M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. How comes it, dear Fan, that you cannot oblige your cousins by joining their party to-morrow evening] Patty's face is so much lengthened since she received your note, that she looks a pro- per Lady Doleful; lest therefore we should think you mean to monopolize the beauty of the family to yourself, let your compliance with your cousin's 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, 'm propria per- sona, yesterday morning, to request I would hear his oration this evening. Can I do less than ac- cept the invitation of Mr. Ogilvie, especially as he assures me it is what he thinks his best ora- tion, and will feel himself honoured by my pre- MRS. RAMSAY. 235 sence? Your cousins tell me you have some thoughts of going', and I shall feel particularly happy, that it should so happen, that on one of the few occasions when it suits me to go into public, my dear niece should be with me. Pray come early, and you must also consider yourself as in- vited for to-morrow, when we shall endeavour to have Polls for Skylarks, Bonds to detain Nightin- gales, and some sweet singing-birds to enliven the evening ; but it will be no evening to me with- out my Frances and Mary, so come and oblige your affectionate aunt, M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same. Dear Fan, — You have made me feel almost as curious as a young girl with your " I know what I could say." And pray. Miss Fan, what could you say 1 Not that you are envious, I hope. Re- member what we have in hand, you still have in hope, and do not laugh at old folks. Here is Patty in a peck of troubles ; her Mercury has dropped, by the way, the note she sent with mine, and she fears its falling into the hands of some curious decipherer, who will perhaps discover more in it than it means. I comfort myself with the thought, that it will be found on your own floor, as it was put within mine. I have holiday to-day, which is the reason why you have two % 236 MEMOIRS OF notes. I really long to see you, and I love you with all my heart, only you must spare a bit of it for dear Mary. I remain your affectionate M. L. Ramsay. From the Same to the Same, with a Fancy Name. Dear Girls, — Your cousins have deputed me to entreat you will favour them and Dr. Ramsay with your company to Haddrell's this morning. They wish for you both ; but if dear Fan is afraid of her sweet complexion, or has any other real or imaginary fears, pray, Mrs. Molt, do you come at once, breakfast with your cousins and be off, and let Fan come at her leisure, and dine with poor King George, who, either from love to dear mam- my, or some other cause, has determined on stay- ing at home. Now, you young people, who are always making me one of your party, do not let me have written in vain. You will have the plea- sure of pleasing the whole noble race of Shen- kins, and among the whole race who loves you more than Martha ap ShenkinsI We now return to our biographical sketch, from which we need not be again diverted. We have spoken of Mrs. Ramsay'' s habi- tual improvement of time, and her ways of MRS. RAMSAY. 237 gaining odd hours or moments ; for which pur- poses, with few exceptions, she decHned all visits in the day, as destructive 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 astonish- ingly great, and her memory uncommonly strong in retaining the substance of their con- tents. She could recite nearly the whole of Young's "Night Thoughts" without book. Psalm and prayer books were to her unneces- sary ; for their contents were imprinted on her mind. With the Holy Scriptures she was intimately acquainted, and could readily quote or turn to any text or passage bearing on any present subject of conversation. The Latin and Greek classics she had read in transla- tions, at a very early period. By catching from her brother, by studying occasionally his Latin grammar and books, and by the aid of an accurate knowledge of the French lan- guage, and the general principles of grammar as applied to the Enghsh and French lan- guages, she laid such a foundation, that when she became the mother of children, for their 238 MEMOIRS OF sakes she ran over the Latin and Greek class- ics, in the short method recommended by Mr. Locke, so as to make her a profitable instructor to them in these languages. With the same views she began and to a considerable extent prosecuted the study of botany. From the same versatility of genius and habits of in- dustry, after she was married, she read with attention most of the practical writers on medi- cine that are usually put into the hands of medical students, and studied with particular interest such of them as treat of the diseases of women and children. In times of general sickness, when her husband was full of busi- ness, she frequently shortened his labours in studying cases of pecuhar difficulty, by run- ning over his books and finding similar cases ; and collecting in one view, for his inspection, the opinions and practice of standard medical authors on diseases of the same nature. She was familiar with most of the modern works of genius, taste and imagination, written in the Enghsh and French languages, and enjoy- ed them. In soHd learning she was not defi- cient. Locke's Essay on the Human Under- standing, Watts' Logic, Improvement of the MRS. RAMSAY. 239 Mind, Philosophical Essays, and other works of science, were the studies of her youth. To these, as she grew up, she added natural and civil history, biography, astronomy, chronolo- gy, philosophy, voyages, travels, &c. In di- vinity, she read much of what was practical, but rarely looked into any thing that was con- troversial. A few fundamental doctrines, such as free salvation by the atoning sacrifice of the coequal Son of God, and sanctification by the Spirit, she considered as essential and worth contending for ; but disputes on minor, unes- sential points she considered as injurious to peace, harmony and the best interests of re- ligion, and she would not waste her time in studying them any farther than making up her opinion on particular points, from what ap- peared to her own mind to be revealed in the word of God. If that was silent, or did not decide for or against any opinion or practice, she took no farther pains in its investigation. Though she highly delighted in the effu- sions of genius and elegancies of fine writing, she found great profit and pleasure in reading the plain, but substantial, practical works of 240 MEMOIRS OF some of the old divines of the seventeenth, and early periods of the eighteenth century. Baxter, Flavel, Boston, Owen, Alleine, Drelin- 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 made considerable transcripts, which have been found in packets of her writing. She felt a particular interest in the prosperity of a family in Charleston, descended from the famous Thomas Boston, of Ettrick, in Scot- land, author of a book entitled, " The Crook in the Lot, or the Sovereignty and Wisdom of God in the Afflictions of Man :" from the reading of which she had received much com- fort and benefit. Owen on Indwelhng Sin, and Flavel on Providence, and on Keeping the Heart, she repeatedly read. Among her papers has been found the following abridg- ment of the last-mentioned work, made by herself, and written with her own hand : — MRS. RAMSAY. 241 To keep the heart, is carefully to preserve it from sin, which disorders it, and maintain that spiritual frame which fits it for a life of commu- nion with God ; and this keeping of the heart in- cludes in it these six acts. 1st. Frequent examinations of the frame of the heart, turning- in and examining 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 rectifying grace, when sin hath defiled and disordered it. 4th. The imposing of strong engagements and bonds upon ourselves, to walk more accurately with God, arid avoid the occasions whereby the heart may be 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 Lord always before us. To keep the heart is hard work, constant M^ork, and the most important work. The honour of God ; the sincerity of our profession ; the beauty of our conversation ; the comfort of our souls ; the im- provement of our graces, and our stability in the hour of temptation, are all wrapt up in, and dependent on our care and sincerity in heart- work. 21 242 MEMOIRS OF Motives for keeping the Heart. 1st. The studying and keeping the heart helps the understanding in the deep mysteries of religion. 2d. It preserves it against the infection of dan- gerous errors. 3d. It is one of the best evidences of sincerity. 4th. All ordinances vv^ould be fruitful, sweet and comfortable, if our hearts were better kept. 5th. Acquaintance with the heart furnishes a fountain of matter for prayer. 6th. By keeping tlie heart, the decayed power of religion will be recovered among professors. 7th. By diligently keeping the heart, we shall prevent and remove scandals and stumbling-blocks out of the world. 8th. A heart well kept will fit us for any condi- tion God casts us into, or any service he hath to use us in. 9th. Diligently to keep the heart would ex- ceedingly sweeten the communion of saints. 10th. By keeping the heart, the comforts of the Spirit and the precious influences of all ordinances would be fixed and much longer preserved on the soul than they now are. Look over these ten special benefits ; weigh them in a just balance. Are they small matters'? Is it a small thing to have thy weak understanding assisted ; thine endangered soul antidoted ; thy sincerity cleared ; thy communion with God sweet- MRS. RAMSAY. 243 ened 1 Is it a small thing to have the decayed power of godliness revived ; all fatal scandals removed ; the communion of saints restored to its primitive glory, and the influences of ordinances abiding in the souls of saints ] If these be no common blessings, no small benefits, then surely it is a great duty to keep the heart with all dili- gence. Special Means for keeping the Heart. Means 1st. Would you thus keep your heart as hath been recommended, then furnish your hearts richly with the word of God, which is the best preservative against sin. 2d. Call your hearts frequently to an account, if ever you mean to keep them with God. 3d. Take heed of plunging into such a multi- plicity of earthly business as you cannot manage without neglecting your main business. 4th. Carefully observe the heart's first declen- sions from God, and stop them there. 5th. Take heed of losing the liveliness and sweetness of your communion with God, lest thereby your hearts be loosed off from God. 6th. Habituate thy heart to spiritual medita- tion, if thou wouldst have it freed from base bur- densome diversion. Words of consolation to those who are plying heart-work, groaning and weeping, in secret, over the hardness, pride, earthliness and vanity of their 244 MEMOIRS OF hearts ; fearing and trembling- over the experienced deceitfulness and falseness of them. 1st. This argues the heart to be upright and honest, whatever thy other gifts and abilities may be. 2d. God would never leave thee under 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 when thy heart shall be as thou wouldst have it; when thou shalt be discharged of all these cares, fears and sorrows, and never cry out, " Oh, my hard, my proud, my vain, my earthly heart," any more ; when all darkness shall be banished from thy understanding, and thou shalt clearly discover all truths in God, that crystal ocean of truth ; when all vanity shall be purged out of thy thoughts, and they be everlastingly, ravishingly and delightfully entertained and exercised upon that supreme goodness and infinite excellency of God, from whom they shall never start any more, like a broken bow. And, as for thy pride, pas- sion, earthliness, and all the other matters of thy complaint and trouble, it shall be said of them, as of the Egyptians to Israel, " Stand still, and see the salvation of God." These corruptions thou seest to-day ; henceforth, thou shalt see them no more for ever; when thou shalt lay down thy MRS. RAMSAY. 245 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 1 How long, how long, holy and true 1 My soul waiteth for thee ; come, my beloved, come ; oh, come quickly, and deliver me from this body of sin and death. Rules to keep the Heart from Distractions hy vain Thoughts in Times of Duty, Help 1st. Sequester yourself from all earthly employments, and set apart some time for solemn preparation to meet God in duty. O my soul, leave trifling; now be composed, watchful and serious ; this is no common work ; it is God work, soul work, eternity work. Pause a while upon thy sins, wants and troubles ; keep thy thoughts a while in these, before thoti address thyself to God. 2d. Having composed thy heart by previous meditation, presently set a guard upon thy senses. 3d. Beg of God a mortified fancy; when thy fancy is more mortified, thy thoughts will be more orderly and fixed. 4th. If thou wouldst keep thy heart from these vain excursions, realize to thyself, by faith, the holy and awful presence of God, in duties. 5th. Maintain a praying frame of heart in the intervals of duty. 6th. Endeavour to engnge isnd raise ti;y rifTeo UP 246 MEMOIRS OF tions to God in duty, if thou wouldst have thy distractions cured. 7th. Mourn over the matter to God, and call in assistance from heaven, when vain thoughts as- sault thy heart in duty. 8th. Look upon the success and sweetness of thy duties as very much depending upon the keeping of thy heart closely with God in them. 9th. Look upon it as a great discovery of the sincerity or hypocrisy of your hearts, according as you find them careful or careless in this matter. 10th. It will be of special use to keep thy heart with God in duties, to consider what influ- ence all thy duties have on thine eternity. To this is subjoined the following impressive prayer and act of contrition : "28th August, 1795. And now, having lately read this little book of Mr. Flavel's, on Keeping the Heart, with great attention, and endeavoured to fix in my memory the above rules, may God enable me to profit by them, to labour to keep my heart with all diligence, that so I may have 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, I am a poor backsliding creature, often wandering, turning back to folly and relapsing into sins, over which MRS. RAMSAY. 247 I hoped I had gained some power. Oh, hold thou me up ; watch for me, and so shall I be safe. Oh keep me from sin, or remove me from the land of sinning. O thou who searchest the heart and triest the reins, thou knowest that sin is my great- est burden ; and yet, alas, too often I fall into it ; so that sometimes I am ready to despair, and my soul is filled with the anguish of remorse and re- pentance; and j^et I am not cured. sweet Jesus, help. O Friend of sinners, save. I know that it is an evil and a bitter thing to depart from God ; and yet I am bent to backsliding. None can help but thou, O Christ. Trembling I come to thee, whom I have so often offended; yet to whom should I go, but to thee, who alone hast pardon and eternal life for such a wretch, such a rebel, such a daily, hourly offender as I am ?" " Lord, my hands hang down from faintness in the way of duty, and my feet go lamely in the path of holiness. Oh, let thy grace deliver me from every weight, especially from my most easily besetting sin ; that so neither any hidden iniquity nor presumptuous transgression may ever have dominion over me." From this strict discipline of the heart, ob- tained by the means before mentioned, conse- quences resulted which were not contemplated. 248 MEMOIRS OF In attendance on the communion and other rehgious exercises, the subject of these me- moirs seldom had any wandering thoughts. What was begun with a view to religious im- provement, extended to other matters. From habit she acquired such complete command over her thoughts, that she could fix them by an 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 inter- ruption. In discharging relative duties, Mrs. Ramsay was exemplary. As a child, she had a high opinion of parental authority ; and to it she conceived herself as owing implicit obedience in every case not plainly inconsistent with the duty due to God. It was therefore a standing order to her servants, without a moment's de- lay, and without announcing the circumstance, to call her, not only from business, but from her most private retirement, whensoever her father called for her services. She had no scruple of doing that for him on Sundays which she had scruples in doing for her- self. She reasoned thus: "Children, obey your parents in all things, for this is well MRS. RAMSAY. 249 pleasing to the Lord,"* is a divine com- mand. The same authority which enacted the fourth commandment also enacted the fifth, and the minor duty should yield to the major. Never was there a daughter more de- voted, attached and obedient to her parent than she was ; and her conduct flowed, not from instinct, accident, or example, but from principle. In the same manner she had de- termined what were her conjugal duties. She was well acquainted with the plausible reason- ings of modern theorists, who contend for the equality of the sexes ; and few females could support their claims to that equality on better grounds than she might advance ; but she yielded all pretensions on this score, in con- formity to the positive declarations of Holy Writ, of which the following were full to the point, and in her opinion outweighed whole volumes of human reasoning. "In sorrow thou shalt bring forth children ; and thy desire shall be to thy husband, and he shall rule over thee."t "Wives, submit yourselves unto your own husbands, as unto the Lord. For the hus- CoL iii. 20. t Gen. iii. 16. 250 MEMOIRS OF band is the head of the wife, even as Christ is the head of the church; and 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."* In practice, as well as theory, she acknowledged the depend- ent, subordinate condition of her sex ; and con- sidered it as a part of the curse denounced on Eve, as being "the first in the transgression. "t The most self-denying duties of the conjugal relations being thus established on a divine foundation, and illustrated by those peculiar doctrines of revelation on which she hung all her hopes, the other duties followed by an easy train of reasoning, and were affectionately per- formed. In this manner, the subject of these memoirs used her Bible as a system of practical ethics, from which she acquired a knowledge of her true station, and also deduced such excel- lent rules of conduct in life as might be expect- ed from correct principles. To illustrate this, in detail, might excite a smile. Suffice it there- fore to observe, in general, that these reasonings, from, scripture, on the condition and duties of *Eph.v. 22— 24. 1 1 Tim. ii. 13,14. MRS. RAMSAY. 251 wives were not imposed or even suggested to the subject of these memoirs. They were entirely her own ; and had such a practical influence on her opinions, that she received the atten- tions of her husband as favours, and was in the habit of subscribing herself in letters to him, his "obliged and grateful wife." These seed-ideas expanded into principles of action, which led her to make all her conduct subser- vient to her husband's happiness. To this end she gave up every separate scheme, and iden- tified her views and pursuits 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 education of her children, the manage- ment of her servants and family affairs, so as to leave for him little else to do than to follow the bent of his own inclinations, with as complete exemption 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 very little, and that so lightly that the least noise awoke her. She was 252 MEMOIRS OF therefore the first to receive professional mes- sages in the hours allotted to repose. After getting the necessary information, she so ar- ranged matters that these unseasonable calls were attended with the least possible inconve- nience to her husband. In copying for him, and tracing through a variety of authors any subject on which he occasionally asked her aid, she shortened his literary labours. Such were the principles and conduct of a wife who had read Mary Woolstoncraft's Rights of Women, but who had studied her Bible with care and attention, as the standard of faith and practice. As a parent, who had brought children into a world of sin and misery, she considered her- self as bound, in common justice, to do every thing in her power for their comfort in passing through it. She thought no pains too great, no sacrifices too hard, provided her children were advanced by them. In addition to her steady attention to their education, she exerted herself to keep them constantly in good hu- mour ; gave them every indulgence compati- ble with their best interests ; partook with them in their sports ; and in various ways MRS. RAMSAY. 253 amused their solitary hours so as often to drop the mother in the companion and friend ; took a Hvely interest in all their concerns, and made every practicable exertion for their benefit. From the Bible she was taught, " Fathers, provoke not your children to anger, lest they be discouraged."* On this text she often commented verbally, and every day practically. From it she drew several rules of conduct in her behaviour towards her children. As a child, she was for implicit obedience, but as a mother, was very moderate in urging her pa- rental rights, and avoided, as far as consistent with a strict education, every thing which might " provoke her children to anger." Un- der this general head she considered as for- bidden, unnecessary severity, sarcasms, and all taunting, harsh, unkind language ; over- bearing conduct, high-toned claims of supe- riority ; capricious or whimsical exertions of authority, and several other particulars calcu- lated to irritate children or fill them vdth ter- ror. On the other hand, she considered pa- rents as required by this precept to curb their own tempers ; to bridle their passions ; to * Col. iii. 21. 22 354 MEMOIRS OF make proper allowances for indiscretions and follies of youth ; and to behave toward their offspring in the most conciliatory manner, so as to secure their love and affections on the score of gratitude. These and several other rules of conduct in the discharge of relative duties were not taken up at random, but de- rived from reason and reflection, and especially from an attentive consideration of the pre- ceptive 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 is not always the case. With her, prosper- ity and adversity alternated. Good and evil followed each other in succession. For seve- ral of the last years of her life, in addition to long-continued and frequent attacks of painful disease, (sufficient to have laid by a less active person,) she had to struggle with restricted cir- cumstances. From several unpropitious events MRS. RAMSAY. 255 perplexing embarrassments resulted. From whatever source they originated, Mrs. Ram- say had no agency in producing them, nor any ground for self-reproach as being in any way accessory to them. The battle is not always to the strong, nor the race to the swift ; nor is success in the pursuits of life invariably the effect of industry, economy and moderation in expenses. Respecting these things there is an overruling Providence. The continuance or the interruption of health, the power to get or retain wealth, come from God. The subject of these memoirs was neither the first nor the last of the favourites of Christ whom he has led to heaven otherwise than by a path strewn with flowers. God does not al- ways suffer his children to pass through life without afflictions 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 ap- parent evils have a certain, though to us a secret connexion with our future and most im- portant destinies. They are necessary Hnks in the chain conducting from earth to heaven, and make us quit our eager grasp of the one, 256 MEMOIRS OF and fix our affections on the other. The storms of adversity, in this Kfe, will make us enjoy, with a higher relish, the unclouded se- renity of that which is to come. In her case, the result, though painful to her feelings, was highly favourable to her improvement in the Christian virtues of patience and resignation. No doubt exists of her now wearing a brighter crown, and enjoying a greater harvest of hap- piness, as a reward for having borne her re- verses of fortune and also long-continued pain- ful diseases, not only without murmuring, but with cheerfulness. In sickness and adversity she was the same self-possessed, unrepining, submissive, satisfied Christian she had been in the days of her heahh and prosperity, and was discontented with nothing but her heart. Her maxim was, not to complain of God, but to God. To him she went with all her bur- dens and cares, and sweetly reposed on his Almighty arm. Her unabated confidence in her Maker ; her unconditional submission and cheerful resignation to his will, took away from adversity its gloom, and threw over it a cheerful fight. The workings of her mind, under these pressures, as recorded in her MRS. RAMSAY. 257 manuscripts, prove her high attainments in the Christian hfe, and were probably one cause of them. In all her distresses, the burden of sin lay heavier on her mind than the burden 0/ outward troubles. She was much more reconciled to death as closing the scene of her sinning than that of her suffering. She found great satisfaction in reading Drelincourt on Death and Watts' World to Come. Shortly before her last sickness, she brought to her husband and requested him to read, a speech delivered a hundred years ago at the grave of a pious person by the Rev. Mr. Peter Sterry, which is preserved in the 352d page of Watts' World to Come. In it she had underscored the following sentiments as ex- pressive of her feelings, with respect to the contemplated approaching commitment of her body to the grave, and its consequent dis- solution therein : " We do for ourselves and for this our dearly beloved in the Lord, accept of thee, O grave, and readily deliver up her body to thee. It is a body that hath been weakened and wearied with long affliction and anguish ; we freely give it unto thee ; receive it, and let it have in thee a quiet rest from all 22* 258 MEMOIRS OF its labours ; for thus we read it written of thee, 'There the wicked cease from trouUing, and there the weary are at rest.' " But we know thee, O grave, to be also a devourer, and yet we can freely deliver up the body unto thee. There was in it a contracted corruptibility, dishonour and weakness; take them as thy proper prey ; they belong to thee, and we would not withhold them from thee. Freely swallow them up for ever, that they may appear no more. " Yet know, O grave, that there is in the body, considered as once united to such a soul, a divine relation to the Lord of life, and this thou must not, thou canst not dissolve nor destroy. But know, and even before thee 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." MRS. RAMSAY. 259 The life of Miss Carter was one of the last books Mrs. Ramsay read ; 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 administered 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. This gave her no alarm. She made preparations for and arranged the circum- stances of her funeral, with the same calm- ness and self-possession she would have done in the days of her best health, when preparing for a journey or voyage. She directed that her funeral should be private ; her coffin plain and without a plate; that Dr. HolHnshead should perform his ministerial duties on the occasion in her own house, before a few of her most particular friends. After she had given these directions, her disease seemed to yield ; but she insisted that her feelings con- vinced her to the contrary. She suffered 260 MEMOIRS OF grievous pains in sundry periods of her last, illness. To assist her in supporting them, she dehberately surveyed 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 grievously 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 considera- ble time in a warm bath. While there she directed the following hymn, from a collection of hymns presented to her by the Countess of Huntingdon, to be read to her. When languor and disease invade This trembling house of clay, 'Tis sweet to look beyond our cage, And long 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. Sweet to look back and see my name In life's fair book set down ; Sweet to look forward and behold Eternal joys my own. RS. RAMSAY. 261 Sweet to reflect how ^ace divine My sins on Jesus laid : Sweet to remember that his blood My debt of suffering paid. Sweet in his righteousness to stand, Which saves from second death ; Sweet to experience day by day His Spirit's quickening 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 faith To trust his firm decrees ; Sweet to lie passive in his hands And know no will but his. If such the sweetness of the streams, What must the fountain be, Where saints and angels draw their bliss Immediately from Thee 1 She repeated the last two lines of every verse with eyes directed to heaven, as expressive of their coincidence with her views. She had frequently, in the course of her sickness, given animated exhortations to her children and others to make choice of God for their 262 MRS. RAMSAY. portion, and also particular directions how to manage the family after she was gone. About four o'clock, p. M., June 10, 1811, she asked her husband and children if they were wilhng to give her up. They evaded the question ; but she in direct terms informed them that she had sometimes felt a repugnance to death on their accounts, but assured them that God had now made her entirely willing to give them all up ; and, in about an hour after, expired. THE END. STEREOTYPED BY L. JOHNSON & CO. PHILADELPHIA. 9 66 Q) LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 014 418 467 1