Your mention of the death of good old Dominie Van Xest recalls the apostolic zeal with which he took our little sinful community in hand, when he put up for a day or twoat the Judge's ; and the wholesome castigat ion he gave us all one Sunday, beginning* with the two country belles who came fluttering into the school-house during the sermon, decked out in their city finery, and ending with the Judge himself on the stronghold of his own mansion. How soundly he gave it to us ! How he peeled off every rag of self-righteousness with which we tried to cover ourselves, and laid the rod on the bare backs of our consciences ! The good, plain-spoken, honest, old man! Howl honored him for his simple, straightforward earnestness, his homely sincerity. He certainly handled us without mittens, but I trust we were all the better for it. How different he was from the brisk, dapper, self-sufficient little apostle who cantered up to the Judge's door a day or two after ; who was so full of himself that he had no thought to bestow on our religious delinquencies : who did nothing but boast of his public trials of skill in argument with rival preachers of ot her denominations, and how he had driven them off the field and crowed over them. You must remember the bustling, self-confident little man with a tin trumpet iu the handle of his riding-whip, with which I presume he blew the trumpet in Zion.