yesterday morning just as we were about to begin the worship of God in our family, a letter from our mutual beloved friend and brother in the Lord Mr. S. announced the death of our son, your dearly beloved husband, at half past five o'clock on the morning of the 11th inst. after a painful but short illness of sixty hours. When we contemplate this very extraordinary and sudden visitation of God to you, dear daughter, and your tender orphans in the first instance, and secondly to us his aged and tenderly affectionate parents, we are called upon by a voice within us, saying, hush, "be still and know that I am God." Yes, "Hallelujah for the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth." "And though clouds and darkness are round about him, yet righteousness and judgment are the habitations of his throne." To you, beloved daughter, this bereavement is to all human appearance an irreparable loss; as to this world or any thing it contains it is incalculable; but when we reflect that you have that God who is the God of the widows (in a very emphatic sense) and a kind Father of the fatherless, that he is your chief portion and happiness for ever, we know and verily believe that you will be preserved through grace from every murmuring, every desponding thought, realizing that though sorrow may endure for a night, yet joy cometh in the morning; though the night of our pilgrimage here is fraught with many sorrows, yet joy will come at the resurrection of the just. Our prayers, beloved child, for you and your beloved children are incessant, that God in his infinite mercy and love may take you all under the shadow of his wings, give you the rich consolations of his blessed Spirit, the light of his countenance, which is life, and his lovingkindness which is better than life, and that you may possess that joy and peace which ariseth from a steady uniform faith, an unbounded trust and confidence in God. Then shall your peace be as a river, and your righteousness as an overflowing stream. Be not overwhelmed with grief; we know indeed it is a trial of that nature which we cannot resist. David, the man after God's own heart, was never reproved by God for his lamentations at the death of an ungodly son, nor Jacob at the supposed death of his beloved son Joseph, nor his children at his death and burial : so we are allowed to give vent to extreme sorrow on being bereaved of those, who, whilst living, gave evidence of being objects of our best earthly love. I do not presume to mention these things, dear daughter, because you know them not; no, but because you know them, from the grace bestowed upon you through the Lord Jesus Christ, your knowledge of the Scriptures of truth and the rich fund they afford of precious promises to them who love the Lord Jesus. I pray you to take comfort to your own soul, apply them by faith, and the consolations of the Holy Spirit will be richly given to you as a support, and you shall also possess that hope which shall be as an anchor to your soul, enabling you to go on rejoicing. Hab. iii. 17, 18, 19. 2 Sam. xxiii. 5.

VOL. V.

8

Small indeed was the relish which Mr. Tucker manifested for the world after the death of his son. The infirmities of age were increased by the range of his acute sensibilities. He was afflicted with hernia and strangury, and died "under feelings of humility, confidence and hope, April 14, 1820.

In his life he was lovely and exemplary. His death was serene and interesting, exhibiting more of fortitude than his life. With his age increased his dependance on God, his humility, his submission to His will. And when summoned by the Prince of Peace to pass through the dark valley, his countenance exhibited the brightness of his views, he testified to the truth of the holy cause of Christianity, and departed with joy. By this death another duty is enjoined upon the living, Go thou and do likewise.

Mr. Tucker was elegant in his person, refined and polite in his manners, in a degree that his religious deportment was presented in a captivating aspect. He was affable and sociable in the society of his friends, whom no man could seemingly love better.

At his funeral the Rev. Mr. Andrews preached a discourse from these words: "And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead that die in the Lord from henceforth; yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them." Rev. xiv. 13.

"The death of Mr. Tucker," said Mr. Andrews, "cannot but be seriously felt by this church, of which he was both a member and an officer. Of his manner of life among you it is unnecessary for me to speak. With the excellencies and defects of his character you are well acquainted. I may however say without fear of contradiction, that in his life and conversation the grace of God was conspicuous. Even his constitutional failings, through this grace, served to enhance the evidence of his piety. The glory of God in the salvation of men appeared his chief-his governing motive. To promote this, he ever stood ready by his charities and active services to do all in his power. He loved those who loved his Saviour, and was wont to mingle with them the joys and sorrows of the Christian pilgrimage. How often have you taken sweet counsel with him and walked to the conference room and house of worship in company? But ah! his work is done. He has rested from his labours. No more will you hear his exhortations and prayers-no more witness his flowing tears-no more receive at his hands the emblems of Christ's body and blood. Having finished as an hireling his days, he has departed from the church militant, if we be not deceived he has passed to the church triumphant; and is, while we are weeping over his remains, encircled with the glories of immortality, and joining all his powers in ascriptions of praise to him who sitteth on the Throne, and to the Lamb."

The Attributes of God Displayed.

From the London Methodist Magazine.

AWFUL END OF A PROFANE MAN.

TOWARDS the latter end of the year 1800, a vessel of about 250 tons, laden with timber, from Memel, bound to—, was overtaken by a tremendous storm. The master, finding it impossible, but at the utmost hazard of their lives, to proceed on their course, determined, if possible, to run into Sunderland roads: in attempting to accomplish which, (through the extreme narrowness of the mouth of the harbour, and the ship's running into broken water,) they unfortunately over-run the bar. Nothing now appeared to await them but inevitable destruction. The storm continued to rage with unabating fury: while reefs of rocks, which begirt that dangerous coast, were seen ready to receive them. Several vessels had already gone ashore; others were entirely wrecked; many from among the crews finding a watery grave. By a tempestuous surge, the vessel in question was cast upon a cluster of rocks, which, forcing their way through her bottom, of course rendered it impossible she could again lighten. In consequence of so violent a concussion, some of the men on board her were precipitated into the deadly embrace of the merciless waves. The remainder, among whom was the master, after continuing on the wreck a considerable time, were, on a partial abatement of the storm, providentially delivered from their perilous situation. On the following day, the storm having subsided, some of the inhabitants, (as is usual after any vessels have been driven on shore, or wrecked,) descended to the beach, when the dead bodies of our fellow creatures, which had been washed on shore, demanded from the sympathies of their natures, a Christian burial-among them were the bodies of those who had been lost from the vessel before us-these were soon recognized by their surviving shipmates. Such, however, was the lordly-mindedness, or brutality, or both, of the unfeeling master, that he refused to own them, and with oaths and curses, persisted in denying them. This conduct may, indeed, appear singular; but by refusing to acknowledge them, he saved the expense the parish would have charged on him for the interment of his unfortunate men. Such proceedings did not pass unnoticed by his fellow men, neither, it would appear, did it escape the cognizance of Him "whose eyes run to and fro in the earth, beholding the evil and the good."

After this unnatural act, he proceeded with his men to endeavour to remove the timber from their vessel. The tide having ebbed, the vessel was left nearly or quite dry. Having descended between decks, they perceived the timber, by the heeling of the

ship, was heaped on one side. The master, observing a degree of timidity on the part of one man, to hazard himself, by poising the timber, seized, in a rage, the handspike from his hand, and with an oath, demanded if he was fearful of going to hell before his time. Scarcely had he concluded the impious question, before the timber he was attempting to move, fell from its position, and caught him by the thighs against some other pieces, with a weight which must have fractured both his legs. His case now became truly piteous. The deck being above them, it was impossible to raise the timber by which to extricate him. No time, however, could be lost, the tide had already begun to flow-his crew, more feeling towards him than he had been towards their ship-mates, attempted, by every means within their power, to release him, but in vain. The tide flowing fast upon them, they were, however unwillingly, compelled to abandon him to his fate. Burthened with the load of a guilty conscience, and groaning beneath the pains of broken limbs, and the heavy pressure of an enormous weight still lying upon him, he sat until, by degrees, the water rising higher and higher, put a period to his mortal existence.

The Grace of God Manifested.

MEMOIR OF MISS LYDIA B. LEAVITT, OF PORTSMOUTH, N. H. (Concluded from page 24.)

FROM about this time she resolved to enter more fully and undividedly into the service of God. She began to attend social, as well as public meetings among the Methodists, and found much encouragement from hearing others speak of the dealings of God with their souls; and it was not far from this time that she received a full and satisfactory evidence of her acceptance with God, and the witness of the blessed Spirit that her heart was renewed by grace. Whatever might have been her former state and enjoyment, this had been wanting to afford her permanent and constant satisfaction and enjoyment in the way of religious duty. In a letter dated June 18, 1819, she writes as follows;-"I derive much benefit from attending class-meetings. It is encouraging to hear others speak of God's dealings with their souls. O for more engagedness, for more zeal. If Christians remain in supineness they cannot expect to prosper. I have too much of a man-fearing spirit, am too unwilling to take up my cross. When I can take it up, I feel so happy I think I shall never shun it again. But I am prone to forget my blessed Saviour, to look for help from creatures. Yet I do bless the Lord for his goodness to one so ungrateful. I must, I will devote myself more to his service, and give him my

whole heart." That she experienced trials and temptations in common with other Christians, will also appear from her letters to the same female friend. "You have no idea how I feel-Can it be possible I have been deceived, that I have no religion? Can I rest in this situation? O no, I cannot, I will not rest without an evidence that my sins are pardoned," &c. Although grievously tempted, she did not give up her hope in the Saviour, but appears to have obtained a full and satisfactory confidence in him. In her letters after this she generally expresses a deep sense of dependance on God, and a longing desire for a deeper work of grace in her own heart, and to see it revive among those around her. Her reflections on the lives and duties of professors, show a mind deeply impressed, and well informed with gospel truth.The following extracts will give her views and feelings on these subjects. "I see more and more the need of constant prayer and watchfulness. If I for a moment trust to my own strength I am gone. O, how dependant are we on God for every mercy. Hold thou me up, O God, and I shall be safe. Save, Lord, or I must perish. What great danger there is of building on false hopes, of trusting in something short of Christ the only true foundation. How close, how diligent should we be in self-examination, and in comparing ourselves daily with the word of God. How dreadful would be our condition were we to pass through life supposing ourselves safe, but at last find ourselves deceived. But I think it almost impossible for one who truly desires to know the truth, who dreads deception, who prays, and carefully examines his own heart, to remain long without knowing his true state.""How strange, how lamentable is the conduct of many who profess to be interested in Christ. How little do most professors do for the glory of God. Can it be possible for such to be sincere, who remain inactive, or go in opposition to the commands of God, who indulge in trifling and vanity, and rarely ever speak of the goodness of God? May I not apply this to myself? Ở when will the time come when I shall be entirely devoted to religion? When feel the continual witness of the Spirit, and rejoice continually in the light of my Father's countenance ?" Yet again-"O when shall we be more like our blessed Saviour? When shall we live as we ought? Is it not high time to awake out of sleep? How soon we may be called to give up our accounts, we know notperhaps ere the light of another day; let us then give all diligence to make our calling and election sure."

Towards the close of life, before her last sickness, she appears to have had a deep and almost constant sense of the dissolving nature of our earthly tabernacles, which connect time with eternity, the visible with the invisible world, and often expressed this to her Christian friends, and that the root of all her religion, all her hopes, was in Jesus Christ, the divine and glorious Saviour. When sickness came it did not find her unprepared, but she view