tleness, meekness, humility, patience, justice, godliness, and every other "good and perfect gift." And they are evidently spiritual and vital, and are the only means that our Heavenly Father hath appointed to make us free from the "law of sin and death." They therefore, (and not written words) compose or form the "law of the spirit of life, in Christ Jesus;" and we always find them "within us," operating and working within us, to make us affectionate, joyful, peaceable, gentle, true, meek, humble, &c. or in one word, opening the "kingdom of Heaven within us," which consists in righteousness, peace; and joy in the Holy Spirit.

These are the blessed and beatifying powers or operations of the life of God, (which is the "Christ in us," that I wish most earnestly to turn thy attention to, as unto a light that will never delude thee, -a dependence that will never disappoint thee-a heavenly friend that will never forsake thee. Thou wilt find it as much superior to the noblest edifice that ever was formed by human ingenuity, as heaven is above earth. Thy own brightest conjectures will become dark before the splendour of its realities, and thy spirit will no longer languish in uncertainty, or be under the necessity of enquiring of others "if they have seen him whom thy soul loveth;" for in passing from every external thing or dependance, but a little, thou wilt find him; and he will be infallibly known to thee by his works;" for it is he who writes these living words upon our hearts; and by these he is at once made known, and "the way, the truth, and the life" explained to us, and we made partakers of all that is made known.

My affectionate salutations are presented to thy

dear parents, and to the dear girls A. and E. H. I feel greatly interested for them, believing their hearts. as "good ground," are prepared to bring forth "fruit unto life eternal." Tell A. that her very acceptable letter came duly to hand, and that I shall answer it shortly if life and health permit. Farewell, my dear M. believe me to be with much truth of affection, Thy sincere friend,

EDWARD STABLER.

On the death of Susanna James, younger daughter of Abel and Rebekah James, of Philadelphia, who departed this life, the 14th of the 4th month, Addressed to her Mother.

1774.

How transient, friend, is human bliss below!
How false and fickle, every mortal trust!
Or dash'd with care, or veiled in deeper woe,
The thorn, our pillow, and our bed, the dust.
Life's a probationary state, at best,

To form the spirit for a purer air:

On earth's bleak coast, we at our peril, rest,
And clouds eclipse the fairest prospects here.
Come, feel this solemn, undisputed truth;

Come, sympathetic, view the aspiring maid;
With hope surrounded,-- in the bloom of youth,-
Of friends possessed,--nor yet of death, afraid.
With each endearing prospect,-social joy,—
The smile of friendship,--and the voice of love;
With all that binds more firm, the mortal tie,
With all that can the Christian hero prove;
Her guiltless mind, with innocence serene,
Gave up each blessing to the awful rod;

Survey'd with fortitude the closing scene,

Bow'd to the stroke and slept,-resign'd to God.
Adieu! dear maid! while round thy spotless urn,
The sigh of friendship, and the voice of love,
Rending with grief,-thy early exit mourn,
Rest,--in thy lot, and share the joys above!
Hail, favour'd soul! with most peculiar grace;
(Could we the future, as the past, survey;)
So soon complete thy task, and run thy race,
So early enter on immortal day.

Nor let surviving friends, in grief repine,
Nor view her favour'd lot, a chast'ning rod:
The awful call was perfect love, divine,
Unerring wisdom, and the will of God.
But nature claims,-and sympathy demands,
The tender tribute to her memory paid;
Around her tomb, see pensive friendship stands,
The sorrowing matron, and the weeping maid.
Each join the father's sigh-the mother's woe,-
The sister's anguish,—and the brother's tear;
Great nature's claim,--and friendship's gen'rous glow,
From feeling bosoms, and from hearts sincere.
Once more adieu!--safe in the arms of God,--
Enjoy thy rest,--rest, undisturbed and pure;
Shelter'd by love from every future rod,--
Thy warfare finish'd,--and thy heaven secure.
Then let not friendship's voice,-nor nature's claim,.
Her smiling virtue, nor her early close,
Pierce the fond mother's tender breast with pain,——
Awake the parent,—and renew her woes.

Her end was favour'd with a mind serene,-
With Christian faith and fortitude sustain'd,

(Escap'd each danger, of the future scene)

And by this stroke, her perfect freedom gain'd. Here, fix thy hopes, secure from floods of woe;

Thy child is safe, in love and life, divine; She clos'd in peace, the important race below, And angels hail, when mortals dare repine.

FIDELIA.*

To Fidelia, in answer to the foregoing. Thanks, good Fidelia, for that gentle tear,

By nature taught, in virtue's cause to flow;
Thy gen'rous sympathy, and grief sincere;
Thy willing strain,-soft, soothing note of woe.
As comes the messenger of joyful news,

As the fond husband meets his loving wife;
So to my soul, thy tranquil, sorrowing muse,
Restor❜d each languid motion into life.
Yes, dear Fidelia, folly 'tis to mourn,

For virtue, gone to meet its just reward,
Wet with unmanly tears, the virgin's urn;
These but the trappings of a slight regard.
Through folly's mazy labyrinth, to rove,

To praise, or censure things beyond our view;
Is but to turn my fruitless strains of love,

To changeful whirlwinds, and my grief renew.
The Almighty saw my prospects rising fair,
He, pitying, saw, for vanity I strove;
Then proved my projects desert as the air,

And fix'd their object in his realms above.

*Said to have been the signature of the late Hannah Griffitts, deceased.

Yet nature,-ah! that tenderest, dearest tie!
Pardon, Fidelia, one intruding tear;

The lilies drooping, hang their heads and die,
The sick'ning roses leave their beauties here!
Her life, the beauty of a summer's day,-

--

Her death, the prize of everlasting joy:Where guardian angels now invite her stay, And with Heaven's pleasures, time's long space employ.

Adieu, Fidelia: while my heart retains

One spring of gratitude, it flows to thee,

Whose soft, harmonious, sympathizing strains,
Fixes our hearts in mild serenity.

FLORIA.

William Williams.

On the 7th of 6th month, 1818, William Williams, formerly of Tennessee, but latterly residing at Richmond, Indiana, in the course of his religious visit in these parts, came to the house of William Walton, in Byberry, a meeting having been appointed for him, at the Meeting-house, to be held next day. While at tea, he was seized with a hæmorrhage of blood, supposed to be occasioned by the rupture of a blood-vessel in the lungs. This entirely prevented his attending the meeting, and he lay in a very weak state several days. On the 14th, he had so far recovered as to be able to sit meeting again with his friends. Near the conclusion of which, he spoke a few words, expressive of his apprehensions, that his public labours were nearly closed, and exhorted to faithfulness, as the means of laying up a good foundation for the time