The eldest daughter at length went up stairs, leaving her Mother alone. The three brothers had been on the beach; and soon apprehending the real state of the case; they had scattered themselves on the coast, several miles to the southward, hoping that the boat might be driven on shore in that direction. Meanwhile a universal apprehension was spread abroad, and every one who knew how deeply the news would affect the family of James Cullingham forbore to come to the house, lest they might be the involuntary means of conveying the sad intelligence. The Mother sat alone till the morning, at this time a stranger unwittingly revealed the extent of the calamity. She was heard passing the road, when the anxious wife went to the door to ask whether she had heard any thing of the yawl. She replied, unconscious to whom she was speaking. “_Nothing_. _It will never come back again_!” The awful fact now broke in upon the mind of Mrs. Cullingham. At once she understood that all was lost; she received the news however, without any outcry or lamentation. But it sunk deeply within. Her expression to her daughter was, ‘your Father is gone, he is safely arrived, I shall join him in Heaven.’ She never once was heard to murmur. But the blow was intensely severe, and the weight of sorrow seemed to be borne alike, by the daughters and the Mother. It may be said to have been the death signal at a more remote period of Elizabeth, as well as of her Mother. Neither of them ever recovered their health. To the Widow the loss was in all respects very great. It might truly be said of her and her husband, “they were pleasant in their lives, and in their death they were not divided.” In a very few months, she was called to follow him. A large subscription which was raised, chiefly at a distance from home, together with the property of her husband, and the assistance of her Children, left the Mother of Elizabeth in no want as to her worldly circumstances. But the suddenness, and the manner of her husband’s death, and the haunting reflection that his body was yet unburied, left a sort of wretchedness in her mind, which nothing but her faith and hope could subdue. Her mode of life was now some what altered. She had more time to read the Scriptures, which she did every afternoon, as well as morning and evening. But in the month of March, she was attacked with a paralytic stroke. This was not violent, and it affected her body more than her mind. It was a time of deep heart searching to her, and of preparation for her end. Her mind might be said to dwell in heavenly hope. She was deeply earnest in her devotions. I have entered her room, and finding her intent in prayer, have retired unobserved. Her mind was not easily distracted when employed in communing with God. But her state was not happy; she was oppressed with the sensation of her disorder, and she continued to feel intensely the circumstances of her