So I sat last Sunday evening,

Musing on all these things, With that quiet gladness of spirit, No thought of this world brings.

I watch'd the departing glory

Till its last red streak grew pale,
And Earth and Heaven were woven
In Twilight's dusky veil.

Then the lark dropt down to his mate,
By her nest on the dewy ground;
And the stir of human life

Died away to a distant sound.

All sounds died away-The light laugh,
The far footstep, the merry call,

To such stillness, the pulse of one's heart
Might have echo'd a rose leaf's fall.

And, by little and little, the darkness
Waved wider its sable wings,
Till the nearest objects, and largest,
Became shapeless, confused things.

And, at last, all was dark-Then I felt
A cold sadness steal over my heart,
And I said to myself, "Such is life-
So its hopes and its pleasures depart."

And when night comes, the dark night of age,
What remaineth beneath the sun,

Of all that was lovely and loved,

Of all we have learnt and done?

When the eye waxeth dim, and the ear
To sweet music grows dull and cold,
And the fancy burns low, and the heart-
Oh, Heaven! can the heart grow old?

Then, what remaineth of life,

But the lees with bitterness fraught? What then-But I check'd as it rose,

And rebuked that weak, wicked thought.

And I lifted mine eyes up, and, lo!
An answer was written on high,
By the finger of God himself,

In the depths of the dark blue sky.

There appear'd a sign in the east,
A bright, beautiful, fixed star,
And I look'd on its steady light,
Till the evil thoughts fled afar.

And the lesser lights of Heaven
Shone out, with their pale soft rays,
Like the calm, unearthly comforts
Of a good man's latter days.

And there came up a sweet perfume
From the unseen flowers below,
Like the savour of virtuous deeds,
Of deeds done long ago;

Like the mem'ry of well-spent time,
Of things that were holy and dear,
Of friends "departed this life

In the Lord's faith and fear."

So the burthen of darkness was taken
From my soul, and my heart felt light;

And I laid me down to slumber

With peaceful thoughts that night.

SIR,

Conversion of the Jews-Letter Third.

To the Editor.

In the numbers of the Evangelical and Literary Magazine for July and October last, appeared some further remarks from my old friend P. W. in answer to my last letter. Till now, I have had no opportunity of attending to them, and shall not now attend to them

much at length; I shall say, however, as much as I believe to be necessary.

He compliments me on my controversial dexterity. I think his own skill in that way is rather better than And so we are even on the score of com

his cause.

pliments.

His remarks in the July number are devoted to the defence of Mr. Frey. He says that the "improper conduct" of Mr. F. which is mentioned in the report of the London Jews Society, was merely some disagreement with regard to the management of the Society, in which he sided with the dissenters, who had till then been admitted to a joint management with the members of the establishment. He says further, that though Mr. F's letters of recommendation were written before the Report, they were written after his dismissal from the Society, and with a view to his coming to this country. He also says that he was received into the New York Presbytery, after they had obtained from England satisfactory testimonials of his good character.

These statements I have neither the means nor the wish to contradict; and till they are contradicted, I shall be glad to credit them. I have no desire whatever to regard Mr. F. as any other than a good and honest man. I must still think it strange, however, that the London Society used the expressions which they did, in relation to one who had merely differed from them in opinion. They call his conduct "very improper;" they speak of "rumors" which were circulated, and say, that on investigating them, "facts were disclosed, and afterwards confessed by the individual referred to, which rendered it the duty of this Com

mittee to inform him, that his connexion with the Society must cease." Now this is not common-place language. The word disclosed implies that something had been purposely kept out of sight; and the word confessed implies something more than an open avowal. If there was nothing culpable, after all, in Mr. F's behaviour, they employed language in an unwarrantable manner, and it is their conduct, instead of his, which was "very improper."

In the October number of the Magazine, P. W. comes after me in a most flourishing style; quotes from both of my letters, and from his own former disquisitions; repeats what he said, and what I said, and what he said to me again; twists my words all manner of ways but the right one; and almost at the outset leaves me, cruel man, between the horns of a dilemma, applauding himself all along for his singular ferocity. This imagined dilemma is constructed out of the opposition which he supposed there was, between my view of human instrumentality and that of the Baltimore Book Society, about which I said something toward the end of my last letter. As I should fatigue your readers, by making them travel through his two pages and a half of quotation marks, I shall simply state the two modes of action and expression used by two societies, which gave rise to this part of the controversy.-The members of the Book Society, convinced by searching the Scriptures, that Jesus came into the world to teach men their duty, instead of the doctrines of the trinity, total depravity and atonement; convinced too that those doctrines are of serious disadvantage to the cause of pure and practical religion; have employed themselves in the dispersion of writings which inculcate

what they believe to be important truth, and expose what they believe to be destructive error. In this work they are encouraged by constant and numerous accessions to their cause, and by perceiving unitarian churches rising up in various and distant parts of their country and the world. They call on each other, therefore, to keep up the dissemination of truth, persuaded that the God of truth will bless their exertions.-The members of the Jews Society think they have discovered, that the prophecies respecting the conversion of the Jews, are soon to be accomplished. So they advertise in the papers, that a converted Jew is going to preach, and make the thing clear to every body, and that therefore the people must put what money they can spare into the contribution box, to help the Society to buy some land in New York, and print some more Hebrew Testaments, and they know not what else; for "the divine veracity is pledged,” and if Christians do not give their money to the Society, what will become of them! This has considerable effect. Some are frightened at the implied danger of neglecting such an occasion, and some are flattered by the prospect of doing great things; and they put in their money. In the former case, I see a well grounded confidence; in the latter, what I have called, and still call, presumption. I continue to see a great difference between them, and shall not be greatly troubled whether P. W. sees it or not.

A little further on, P. W. indulges himself in a dream about what the Jews will do before they return to the Holy Land. It may amuse your readers.

"I have been led to think, as the Jews are to return to their own land for a very different purpose from that which their dispersion has