confess, too, that I might have been much richer, had I chosen to exchange the care of my present little flock, for a charge much farther to the sunny South, and of much greater value than £150 per annum. To have declined such an exchange, may appear in the eyes of ANGLICANUS an unpardonable outrage, on those money-loving habits with which I am so decently charged, especially as with a higher income, and a lower latitude, I might in time perhaps have found access into the "amiable circles of cultivated religious Society." Yet again I look at ANGLICANUS, and am satisfied; for I see nothing that he has acquired in these circles, that I am at all solicitous to possess.

I am poor; so is many a worthy man, even in the Church of ANGLICANUs, though perhaps in the height of his elevation, he never came in contact with such a thing as a curate. But I have had, and still have the pleasure-and a real pleasure it is,―to be acquainted with several of them, hardly less poor than myself; yet I know not that any person has been heartless enough, to add to the burden of their poverty, by the superciliousness of contempt, or the bitterness of reproach.

I am poor; and poorer still, if the Letters of ANGLICANUS can aught avail, I must be. Yet, while I think it my duty to labour hard, in order, as far as possible, to make the "Gospel without charge" to a congregation that would make me richer if they could; and while I accept, with thankfulness, of the remuneration which they make me, small as it may be, both because I need it, and because they give me cheerfully what they are able-I can, relying on the affection of those who know me much better than ANGLICANUS does, look down with abundant contempt on the ineffable meanness of the man who, by unprovoked reproach, would render my labours harder, and my income less.

I am poor; and that my poverty has never led me into sin, is more than I will undertake to say. When my children are indulging their gambols around me and stunning me with their noise, as they are doing at this moment,-"peace! peace! riotous rogues. Ah! little do you think that ANGLICANUS is training his children to the virtue of pouring insult over the

poverty of your situation, and that these bounding buoyant spirits of yours, may be doomed to be depressed by the bitterest ingredient in the cup of poverty, the scorning of them that are at ease;""-When, I say, I look on my children, I naturally think, with some anxiety, of what may be their future lot. And that that anxiety has never been tinged with the shade of sinful distrust, I will not, dare not say. Yet, even upon this subject, distrust is far from being a prevailing, or a frequent feeling. I will try to furnish them, as my poor parents, blessed be their memory! laboured hard to furnish me, with a liberal education, and staunch integrity of principle, and then

"The world is all before them, where to choose

Their place of rest, and Providence their guide."

:ག་

ANGLICANUS may call them "needy adventurers," if he will; but I shall send them out without a fear that their father's God will deal with them as He has dealt with him, and then they will have no reason to complain. For though to sustain the poverty, and to undergo the labours of such a situation as mine, might be to ANGLICANUS worse than martyrdom, yet, strange as it may seem to him, I can assure him, so far has that situation been from engendering in me a spirit of “ cynical discontent," that I feel disposed to say, "The lines have fallen to me in pleasant places, yea, I have a goodly heritage ;" and that looking to all the dealings of Providence towards me, though my trials have been neither few nor light, I can cordially thank God for all that is past, and trust him for all that is yet to come. And even ANGLICANUS, with all his wealth, is not less a pensioner on His bounty than I am. I shall early teach my children, that

He that finds

One drop of heaven's sweet mercy in his cup,
Can dig, beg, rot, and perish well content,

So he may wrap himself in honest rags,
At his last gasp."

And perhaps they will meet with enough, like ANGLICANUS, to teach them the necessity of the prayer, "Let not the

foot of pride come against me, neither let the hand of the wicked remove me." Even so be it!

ANGLICANUS represents me as placed on the wrong side of the border, sighing after a Church in Scotland. I would ask, what sigh of mine has ever reached his ear? or on what ground does he assert that such a sigh was ever heaved? My labours on this side of the Tweed, and I desire to mention it with humble gratitude,-have not been in vain. That I would gladly accept of a Church in Scotland, where I might be more useful, I readily admit. But if ANGLICANUS thinks that I would willingly exchange,-nay, am sighing to exchange,— the scene of my present labours, for a settlement in any obscure glen, or on any dreary heath of my "beloved country," I can tell him that he judges of me by himself, and undertakes to speak for a man whom he does not know.

cease.

I had written thus far, when the Newcastle Chronicle was put into my hand, containing the astounding intelligence, that ANGLICANUS is the Rev. HENRY GREY! Wonders never Yet I cannot give credence to this assertion. There is a degree of improbability about it, that renders belief almost impossible. That the Rev. HENRY GREY, a member of the Edinburgh Presbytery, should be guilty of such a want of common sense, as anonymously to characterize that body as ANGLICANUS has done,-that the Rev. HENRY GREY, a Director of the Scottish Missionary Society, should proclaim that Society to be so deficient in Faith, as to be incapable of sending out Missionaries, in any way fitted to do much good,— that the Rev. HENRY GREY, who voluntarily left the Church and the land of England, to connect himself with the Scottish Establishment, in which he is, at this moment, one of the most esteemed ministers, should speak of Scotland as ANGLICANUS has spoken,-that the Rev. HENRY GREY, who has often honoured the Scottish Church in the North of England with his valuable services, should be guilty of the wanton insult with which ANGLICANUS has treated us,-that the Rev. HENRY GREY, but there is no end to these improbabilities. In short, I do not believe it. The Apocrypha controversy. has done much mischief, but that it should have transformed

the Rev. HENRY GREY into ANGLICANUS,-the thing will not believe for me. The Letters, I shall judge, were not all writ ten by one hand; but I feel persuaded, that the Rev. HENRY GREY had no hand whatever in them.

At all events, I have nothing to do with the authorship, My remarks are addressed to the merits of the Pamphlet itself. But even should it turn out to be not only possible, but true, that the Rev. HENRY GREY has so far forgotten what is due to himself, as to treat me with wanton insult, even he cannot be offended at my attempting to defeat its effect,-should even he set a stone a rolling, he cannot be offended, that I choose to roll it back upon him, rather than suffer myself to be crushed by its weight. To laugh at what is ludicrous, and to repel the reproaches of unprovoked malignity, the Rev. HENRY GREY himself cannot condemn. I go on, therefore, as I have begun, pretty confident that I have said, and can say nothing to hurt the feelings of a man, of whom I could not, even if I would, speak in any other language than that of respect, Even the Advertisement cannot command my belief to the whisper I had previously heard, that he is ANGLICANUS. But should he be, my only remark on this subject is,

"Who would not laugh, if such a man there be !
Who would not weep, if Atticus were he !"

I return to my picture. The next feature in it is, that my highest conceptions of worldly glory and felicity do not surmount the dome of St George's." This sentence possibly has a meaning, but there is such a want of homogeneity in the things compared, that I am quite unable to extract any thing like an idea from it. It may, therefore, be perfectly correct for any thing I know.

It would not do for me to slight the road to preferment. I know not that it is any man's duty to slight that road. If a man sacrifice principle to preferment, he is doubtless wrong. But does ANGLICANUS mean to insinuate that I have done, or am disposed to do so? He dares not. And if a man, by fair and honourable means, seeks to rise in his profession, I know not on what ground he can be blamed. I have been found

fault with often for being too careless to secure the means of preferment,-never for pursuing it with indecent eagerness. "A man may rot even here." I have more of the Stoic than the Cynic in me, and happily possess no small share of the old soldier's philosophy. ANGLICANUS has been born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and I with a wooden ladle in mine; but "it will be all one a hundred years hence." It is probable that the longer half of my life is already spent; but if the future be like the past, I shall not only be satisfied, but thankful.

66

set up

for inde

He adds, that it would not do for me to pendence," that is independence of thinking; I must, it seems, square my opinions by those of Dr THOMSON. Now, ANGLICANUS says this, either because he knows that it is true, or because, in his eagerness to wound my feelings, he cares not whether his assertion be true or not. But he cannot know that to be true which is not true. What then is the English

of Anglicanus? Surely, when he has adopted a respectable signature, he might treat it with respect, however he may be disposed to treat me. I have not troubled the world with many of my opinions; but I defy him to point out one of them, to the expression of which, "my poverty, but not my will, consented." My opinion on the Apocrypha question, I can prove to have been both formed and publicly expressed, before I knew whether Dr THOMSON took any part in that question at all. That opinion, I admit, has been in no slight degree confirmed by the Doctor's writings, though it has derived no strength from the Edinburgh Statements, or Mr HALDANE'S Reviews, none of which I have ever seen. I can tell him, and I dare him to dispute the fact, that my opinions, whether right or wrong, are as honestly my own as his, or those of the most learned man, aye, or those of the most independent of all thinkers,-the most foolish woman in Edinburgh.

I beg Dr THOMSON, however, to attend to this. He is, it seems, an able transplanter of such stray trees as we are. Let him not forget then I beseech him, that, as the diamond gives out in the night the rays it has imbibed during the day, so