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 0 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, 0 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 0 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 0 I R S 0 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, 0 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 0 I R S 0 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, 0 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.
0 Death, where is thy sting? 0 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,
0 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, 0 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, 0 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, 0 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 0 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 ] 0 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, 0 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 0 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,
0 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, 0 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 0 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 0 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. 0 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, 0 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. 0 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, 0 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, 0 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, 0 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, 0 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. 0 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. 0 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 0 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, 0 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, 0 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. 0 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, 0 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. 0 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, 0 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, 0 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.
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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,
0 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, 0 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, 0 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. 0 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, 0 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 %
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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, 0 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, 0 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. 0 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. 0 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, 0 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, 0 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 0 I R S 0 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. 0 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.
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