From the pages of her accomplished biographer, we learn that in her youth she had a robust physical frame; and H. P. Willis, Esq., the American traveller, tells us, that she was a tall and very handsome woman, with a smile of the most winning sweetness. Peculiarly attractive in her manner, her expression, which in old age was quite heavenly, so lighted up all her features as to convey the impression that she must have been very beautiful when young. But it was not her handsome features which called forth admiration so much, as her tall and graceful form, added to which was a countenance beautified by intelligence and life and winning gentleness.
Her intellect was as vigorous as her body was robust. She availed herself of the power of invigorating her mental faculties, of acquiring knowledge from experience, of pursuing knowledge for its own sake, of deriving knowledge from the past, and of rendering the possession of knowledge an enjoyment. Thus she wanted less than most girls a mother’s arm to lean upon; and needed less than most wives a husband’s intellect to guide. She seems to have arrived at her conclusions slowly; but having arrived at them, she held them firmly.
Kind words and good deeds will be legible, when sculptured inscriptions are illegible. These speak when the granite and the marble are silent. The benevolence of the Duchess was world-wide. Perhaps her lavish hospitality was sometimes taken advantage of; but the keenest cavillers must admit that her own eye and heart were single. Her aim seemed to be to convince her guests that the house and all that was in it was their own. The day after the funeral, an aged man, with moistened eyes made these remarks. “This is the greatest calamity that ever befel this district; of a’ the Dukes that ever reigned here, there was never one like her; there’s nane in this neighbourhood, high or low, but was under some obligation to her; for she made it her study to benefit her fellow-men; and what crowds o’ puir craturs she helped every day!” A soldier who had been in the Crimea, said: “You know that I have seen much to render my heart callous, but I never was unmanned till now; I never knew before how tenderly I loved that honoured lady.” She had a strong feeling of nationality, and a great love for everything Scotch, such as the Jacobite songs. But when she received new life, these were exchanged for the songs of Zion. Her spirit was most catholic, and she longed to see conflicting sentiments blended into brotherhood, and to hear the grand text repeated throughout all lands: “There is neither Jew nor Greek, neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.”
SECTION III.—MARY JANE GRAHAM.
“Her pursuits were only valuable in proportion as they were consecrated. In everything ‘to her to live was Christ.’ Nothing else seemed worthy of the name of Christ.”
Rev. Charles Bridges, M.A.
PIETY AND CIRCUMSTANCE.
In dealing with many who avow themselves unbelievers in Christianity, we not unfrequently meet with an objection by the help of which they attempt to construct an argument against our religion. The tendencies of the mind we are told, are entirely dependent on the development of the brain, and the external influences operating upon these, make up together the sum of the influences concerned in the production of the faiths of the world. These sceptical reasoners tell us that it is just as irrational to expect Christianity to spring up in the universal mind, as to expect to paint the whole globe with one particular flower. The soil has laws which determine its products; and the mind has laws which determine its beliefs. How shall we meet this? We might deny that the faith that worketh by love, purifieth the heart, and overcometh the world, is the product of suggestion, which is multiform; and assert it to be the judgment of reason, which is one and the same over all the world, in every mind and age. But we prefer appealing to the practical refutation afforded us by experience. It is a fact that our Christian religion has already traversed the globe, rooting itself in every soil, and bearing fruit in every climate. When civilization has done her utmost, Christianity can out-dazzle her sublimest triumphs. In the clime where philosophy holds court with refinement—where poor vulgarity cannot breathe, we challenge the world to point out a single instance in which the gospel was unable to accommodate itself to the peculiar requirements of the people. What has been its effects in the land of terror, upon the savagest of human beings. It has lifted the cannibal from his pool of blood, and led him like a little child to the altar of consecration. The door of the world has been thrown open, and the Lord’s servants have been commanded to enter in. India has been made accessible to the missionaries of every Church. The gospel is advancing rapidly among the teeming millions of the celestial empire. In Africa, degraded Fingoes, stupid Hottentots, and warlike Kaffirs, have had their understandings enlightened, and their hearts softened, by Divine truth and grace.
“Sound the timbrel, strike the lyre,
Wake the trumpet’s blast of fire!”