those who come unto him shall never be cast out.  I do go to him and commit my sinful soul to his keeping; I shall not be cast out.  As many as receive the gift of his Son, receive at the same time power to become the children of God.  I do receive his gift, and lay claim to his promise.  He is my reconciled Father, and I am his adopted child, and he hath sent his Spirit into my heart, by which I can say, Abba, Father.

“I have, my dear James, taken this method of laying before you the grounds of my own hope, because I think it the most simple method, and containing at the same time my counsel to you to lay hold on the same hope.  The warrant is given us in God’s own word, as sinners, without respect to fruit or any works of ours.  I can, if necessary, give you chapter and verse, to the full amount; but you have those about you who can give it to you by little and little, as your weak state can bear it.  This gift is held out to the sinner’s acceptance in many places of the word of God, and becomes the sinner’s in the moment of believing.  Provision is made by the same covenant for his sanctification; but that makes no part of justifying righteousness.  Christ is made of God unto him wisdom, righteousness, sanctification, and redemption.  Try, my precious young friend, to lay hold on this hope, and enter into the rest provided for the believer here.  Stretch forth ‘the withered hand,’ the Lord himself will give you strength.  Commit your precious soul into his hands, and rest assured that he will perfect all that concerns you—­work all his work in you—­carry you safely through the Jordan of death, and put you in possession of the inheritance he has purchased for you.  That all this shall be, is the prayer and firm hope of

“Your affectionate friend,

“ISABELLA GRAHAM.”

The two following extracts, addressed to Mrs. C——­, near Boston, present a very gratifying view of Mrs. Graham in her advanced years, and may well awaken the desire not only to die the death, but to enjoy the “fruitful old age” of “the righteous.”

“I have, as you know, enjoyed much in life, enjoyed its dearest, sweetest comforts, love and friendship, with a heart tremblingly alive to both.  Lover and friends of youth are long since gone, other friendships I have formed, and have been happy even in these; now I am shut up with ails and aches.  The world, properly so called, is a dead blank to me; yet I do think I never enjoyed life more.  I would not exchange my present happiness for the most transporting moments of my life—­of which I have had a large share—­though thousands of years were added to enjoy them.  I do not mean barely that happiness which consists in the anticipation of pleasure beyond the grave; that is indeed delightful; but I enjoy life now.  Books of taste are mine no more:  still less those of science and history; but my dear Bible; precious subjects; my dear Saviour.  The height, the depth, the breadth, the length of