This letter was signed by forty-six members of the church, including the families of Messrs. Hine, Nichols, Halsey, Swinnerton, Beach, Dovell, Blackwood, Harlan, Briggs, Smith, Snowdon, McDonald, Whitehead, Coeyman, Boyden, Slater, Maclure, Carter, Snyder, Baldwin and Tompkins. Mr. Eddy refused to accept the gentle hint and it then became necessary to take the matter before the Newark Presbytery, which held several highly spiced meetings, and which finally decided that “we must support the poor minister”, as one of the other “poor” ministers incautiously stated in public, and there was nothing left for those who had organized the church and erected the church building but to resign. The following, taken from a newspaper clipping, shows what the separation meant to the church. The writer, who merely signs with the initial D, states that of the $5,000 already paid on the church, less than $450 were paid by those who remained, while some $4,500 were raised and paid by those “who, from self respect, have been obliged to leave it”, and more than two-thirds of the current expenses of the church were also paid by them. Personally I am just enough lacking in Christian charity to be pleased at the hole the Eddyites found themselves in, but that has long been a thing of the past and the bitter feeling then engendered is so completely forgotten that one who was in the front rank of the Eddyites can now say that “Mr. Hine was Woodside”. A PARTISAN. Mr. Daniel Halsey, who resided on Carteret street, at one time did business in Petersburg, Va., and it became the custom to have Mr. Halsey send to Petersburg for a colored girl when any of his neighbors desired such help; thus there was gradually formed a small colony of Southern negroes, who were usually intensely loyal to their employers. One of these, a large, husky negress named “Milly”, was employed by Rev. Mr. Eddy and thereby hangs a tale, as the story books say. Shortly after the split in the Presbyterian Church, and when the feeling was very bitter and the entire neighborhood was divided into “Eddyites” and “Hineites”, Mr. Hine had occasion to call on Mr. Eddy for some purpose and was conducted by that gentleman upstairs to his study. Two or three times during the interview Mr. Eddy, who was an extremely nervous man, thought he heard some one on the other side of the closed door and, excusing himself, got up to look out into the hall, but, seeing no one, resumed his seat. The conference over, Mr. Hine was shown out, and as Mr. Eddy returned to his study he saw standing in a niche near the head of the stairs his colored Milly, with a flat-iron in either hand and, as he approached she brandished her weapons, shouting as she did so: “Ah was ready for him! Ah was ready for him!” expecting, of course, there was to be a fight and recognizing her duty to her employer. Probably Mr. Hine never knew how close he came that day to a broken head.