appeared to have no wish of his own, being well satisfied with doctors Gregg and Allen, who attended him. Accordingly, doctor John Moore was sent for; but their united exertions seemed baffled by the violence of the disease, which was believed to be the yellow fever. Being asked by A. R. if he had a view how the disease would terminate? he replied, "No: neither have I any anxiety about it." His mind continued to be preserved in great quietness. At another time, she asked him, if he had a wish to see his children, or any other of his relations. He replied, "I have no desire that my children should be sent for." And added, "I have many times fervently petitioned, that my last moments might be as was my step-mother's. When she was asked something respecting her children, she said, I have no anxiety about them. They are no more to me now, than other children. Their heavenly Father will take care of them. But left it to the family to inform his relations of his illness, if they were best satisfied to do so. Neither did he wish to see any strangers, more than was necessary to attend him.

At a time when William Richardson and his wife were sitting by his bed, and much affected with his extreme suffering, he looked up most expressively, and said, "can it be possible that my little sympathy for you, when you were under affliction," (alluding to a religious opportunity in the sick chamber of William Richardson, while in Wilmington a year before) "should be repaid in this way? I have many things to say to you; but am too ill to say them

now."

On the tenth day he was seized with the black vomit, which continued through the day. The night

following was one of great suffering. Being asked by a friend who was sitting up with him, if he wanted any thing, he replied, "No; nothing but that bread which nourishes the soul up unto everlasting life." Some time after, he motioned to be laid on his back, (as he could not speak,) in order to die. And after a severe conflict, he expired about sunrise, the 30th of the 8th month, 1812, in the thirty-sixth year of his age. A heavenly sweetness overspread his countenance, and there is no doubt his sun has set in brightness. His corpse was interred at Middletown in the afternoon of the same day, and was followed by the largest concourse of friends, except one, that was ever recollected in the neighbourhood.

LETTER TO BENJAMIN JOHNSON, Written by Joshua Maule, soon after the decease of his wife.

Wilmington, 17th of 5th mo. 1811.

DEAR BROTHER,

I have the satisfaction to inform thee that I, the children, and sisters have had good health since we came home-also, the scholars and rest of the family, with some small exceptions, have been very well. I think I have never seen a greater appearance of happiness in any one family, than in this: yet there is a common saying, and I believe it to be true, that there is no enjoyment on earth so perfect, as not to be mixed with large portions of alloy. However, as relates to my own case, I seem to have enjoyed a remarkable calm. I have been much favoured since I came home, with the sweetening and

precious enjoyment of peace, within and without; and almost every circumstance relative to my situation, seems to have combined to render me happy, not altogether without success. Yet there still remains a blank that is not filled up. For though I have much to enjoy, I seem to be left to enjoy them alone. She that has been my companion in many trials, and a participater with me in seasons of rejoicing, is now no more. But when I reflect, that though she is not my companion on earth—no more to participate with me either in joy or sorrow; yet as we have sufficient reason to believe, that instead of these lower and transient enjoyments, her soul is crowned with that rejoicing which is dignified with glory and honour-immortality and eternal life,how can we mourn on her account? And though, when we refer to ourselves, we may feel lonesome, and the language of mourning in secret, may be frequently heard; yet when we refer to her, and reflect that her change is a translation from darkness to light,—and from a scene of sorrow, to that of joy unspeakable and full of glory,-the mind, at times, seems raised above itself, to join in that eternal song of gratitude and praise, which, as relates to her, will never have an end.

Thus, dear brother, though I have been stripped and tried, yet I am bound to acknowledge, that I have been mercifully dealt with. And therefore, in resignation to the Divine will, which disposes all things for the best, I hope we shall be enabled unitedly to enjoy quietness and peace; and thus in our future steppings in life, experience the present to be a lesson of deep instruction-to place our trust and dependence in him whose promise to his children

remains to be, "I will never leave thee nor forsake thee." Thy affectionate brother,

JOSHUA MAUle.

LETTER TO A. R.

DEAR FRIEND,

Wilmington, 9th of 5th mo. 1812.

I received thy acceptable letter yesterday. Thy expression of sympathy and friendship for me was very grateful, though I think I can say as thou hast-that I have felt myself unworthy of it. But, however poor or unworthy we may feel at times, I trust we are still under the notice of him, who has promised, "though heaven is my throne, and earth my footstool, yet to this man will I look, that is poor, and of a contrite heart, and that trembleth at my word." Thus, my dear friend, we may see, that though in our humiliation, our judgment may be taken away; yet those dispensations, which serve to put us out of conceit of ourselves, are not altogether useless; especially as they recommend us to the notice of our heavenly Parent; and by humbling the mind, they number us amongst those whom "he teacheth of his ways, and guideth in the midst of the paths of judgment." This seems to be branching out very differently from any thing in prospect when I began; but time will not permit me to pursue the consideration at present. Therefore I would just say, if our dwelling is in humble resignation to the Divine will, and our hearts are unreservedly dedicated to serve him, he will be to us, strength and preservation in the time of weakness, when we have

no strength to preserve ourselves-"riches in poverty, and a present help in every needful time."

Thus, in the day of our prosperity, we should experience him to be our crown of rejoicing, as well as a "friend that sticketh closer than a brother," in the time of our distress. Therefore, let us trust in him, and endeavour to dwell in lowliness of mind before him, so will the band of true friendship which binds to him and each other, be strengthened; and the tenderness of sympathetic feeling (which is like a cordial to the wounded mind) will be increased. From thy affectionate friend,

JOSHUA MAULE.

SACRED FRIENDSHIP.

When we pause, and reflect on our passage through time,

On the joys, and the sorrows, that chequer the

way,

May we not, when we see how we bloom and decline,
With a peaceful composure, and propriety say,—

How happy the man, who, this changeable scene,
With the cursory view of a traveller, eyes,
Nor suffers allurements, intruding between,
To divert his pursuit of unchangeable joys?

Who, appriz'd, that to happiest attachments, below,
A sad separation full surely ensues,

A guarded approvance dares only bestow,

And, timely, the soft-growing fondness subdues.