Israel Foulke, the author of the following letter, was a worthy member and elder of Richland Monthly meeting, Bucks county, Pennsylvania. He was long afflicted with a cancer in his face, which he bore with much meekness and patience. The "opportunity" he alludes to was a season of retirement with some Friends, who were travelling in the service of Truth, and made him a visit. He died not long after.

Letter from Israel Foulke.

Richland, 30th of 10th mo. 1822.

BELOVED FRIEND,

My spirit was refreshed in the precious, though short opportunity we were favoured with together, last seventh-day morning, and I think my mind received some instruction, which I hope will be profitable.

And now I feel a freedom to impart something respecting the state of my own mind, and how it has fared with me, under the present afflictive dispensation; wherein I have abundant cause humbly to acknowledge the merciful kindness, and manifold favours of my heavenly Father, particularly in favouring me with a calm, peaceful, and resigned state of mind, which, if it is mercifully continued to the end, I ask no greater favour: for although I have often felt like one that was passing through a land of drought and famine, yet it has pleased him in whom I trust, sometimes to open a little access to the divine fountain, whereby my mind has been revived, and encouraged to hope and persevere to the end; and poor, and unworthy as I am, and am often feelingly sensible thereof, yet I have sometimes been

permitted to feel my mind a little animated in anticipating the prospect, of ere long being admitted to join the society of my beloved Friends, who are gone before, and to mingle with the spirits of the just, made perfect. Oh! how humbling the prospect! Oh! how little must we feel on being admitted into such exalted society.

When I contemplate the state of our religious society, my mind is covered with mourning and sad. ness. The apparent langour and indifference which is often observable in religious meetings, is cause of deep mourning; and I have sometimes thought that one great cause of declension, has been the neglect

parents to feel after a right qualification to watch the gradual unfolding of the understanding of their children, and to labour early to imbue their tender minds with right principles and ideas, before wrong ones become established. But, alas! how is this to be expected from such parents, who have attained to very little, or no experience themselves; it is impossible for them to communicate that which they have not; and we, none of us, have any thing but what we have received.

With the salutation of love, I conclude, thy friend, ISRAEL FOULKE.

Ellen Evans.

Ellen Evans, of Gwynedd, Pennsylvania, was an example of piety and industry, rising early in the morning, and encouraging others so to do; often observing, that those who lay late, lost the youthful beauty of the day, and wasted the most precious part of their time; that the sun was the candle of the

world, which called upon us to arise, and apply to our several duties.

She spoke of the benefit which attended preserving the characters of those faithful ministers and elders in the church, whose pious lives, and happy dissolution, if held up to the view of posterity, might be a likely means of kindling the same holy zeal, and a resolution to tread in their footsteps.

She delighted to converse with the Indians about their sentiments of the Supreme Being, and said she discovered evident traces of divine goodness in their uncultivated minds.

She died the 29th of 4th month, 1765, aged about 80 years.

"God is our refuge and strength, a very present Help in trouble."-Psalm 46.

Father! to thee I breathe my prayer!
Father! on thee I cast my care;
Strength of the weak! where but to thee
Frail, tempted, trembling, can I flee?
O save thy child! the trying hour
Draws near in all its fearful power;
Snares all around me, clouds above,
Save, or I perish, God of love!
Yes: thou wilt save! on thee alone,
I lean; thine arm is round me thrown;
A gleam of Heaven's own blessed light
Is dawning on my spirit's night!

I cannot doubt, I cannot fear,
For O my father! thou art near;
Confidingly I look to thee,

Thou, thou, wilt give the victory!

Letter from William Hunt, to Uriah Woolman.

Colchester, 6th mo. 21, 1772.

TRULY UNITED COUSIN,

In the continued feeling of true brotherly regard,in the heavenly relation of the inward man, according to the tender mercies of our God,-I salute thee, and inform that we are in health.

I received thy very acceptable letter of the 3d month, which ministered humbling satisfaction to my mind, in a sense of the abounding of that unity, which is peace. We parted with dear cousin John Woolman, two days since. He was then as well as

usual. He has great and acceptable service here, The singularity of his appearance, is not only strange, but very exercising to many valuable Friends, who have had several opportunities of conference with him. Some are still dissatisfied; others are willing to leave it. The purity of his ministry gains universal approbation. I hope he stands on that Foundation, which will bear him through all. He is now gone towards Yorkshire; and we are bending for Norwich, in company with Deborah and Sarah Morris.

Since I wrote thee from Liverpool, in the 10th month, we have been through England, which was a laborious, exercising journey. But Divine help was near, to support, and enable us to pass through many trying dispensations. Blessed be his holy Name, who is worthy to have the first fruits of all our labours. We now purpose, if the Lord open our way according to present prospect, shortly to embark for Holland.

Thus, I give thee a short hint of our stepping along. I always rejoice on hearing from thee, if well, and

sympathise, if otherwise; as my life is much wrapped up in that harmonious sweetness which we so frequently partook of,-so that neither length of time, nor separation of our little frames, in the least abates its circulation: but with renewed satisfaction, I remember the pleasant moments we enjoyed together.

Please to give my dear love to thy wife, and all our relations, which concludes me, in affectionate nearness, thy loving cousin,

WILLIAM HUNT.

From John Woolman's Manuscript Journal. "Beloved, now are we the sons of God; and it doth not yet appear, what we shall be; but we know that when he shall appear, we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is." He, our Redeemer, is the perfection of pure love; and when, by the operation of his spirit upon us, we are cleansed throughout, and our souls are so united to him, that we love our fellow creatures, as he loveth us; we then see, evidently, that in this inward conformity to Divine Goodness, stands the true happiness of intelligent creatures.

From the Leeds Mercury, Oct. 13, 1772.

DIED, on Wednesday last, at York, of the smallpox, John Woolman, of New Jersey, in North America, an eminent preacher amongst the people called Quakers. His life exhibited a very singular, and striking example of self-denial; adorned with an amiable sweetness of disposition, and affectionate good will to mankind universally.

His feelings for the bondage and oppression of the poor enslaved negroes, were so exquisite, that he con