vnto Asson, there to receave Paul. |and sailed unto Assos, there
For soo had he apoynted, and wolde |intending to take in Paul: for so
hym silfe goo be londe. When he was |had he appointed, minding himself
come to vs vnto Asson, we toke hym |to go afoot. And when he met with
in, and cam to Mittilenes, and sayled|us at Assos, we took him in, and
thence, and cam the nexte day over |came to Mitylene. And we sailed
agaynst Chios. And the day folowinge |thence, and came the next day over
we aryved at Samos, and taryed at |against Chios; and the next day we
Trogilion. The nexte daye we cam to |arrived at Samos, and tarried at
Mileton. For Paul had determined to |Trogyllium; and the next day we
leave Ephesus as they sayled, because|came to Miletus. For Paul had
he wolde not spende the tyme in Asia.|determined to sail by Ephesus,
For he hasted to be (yff itt were |because he would not spend the time
possible) at Jerusalem in the feaste |in Asia; for he hasted, if it were
off pentecoste. |possible for him, to be at
|Jerusalem the day of Pentecost.
|
"From Mileton he sent to Ephesus, |"And from Miletus he sent to
and called the seniours of the |Ephesus, and called the elders of
congregacion. When they were come to |the church. And when they were come
hym, he sayde vnto them: Ye knowe |to him, he said unto them, Ye know,
from the fyrst daye that I cam vn to |from the first day that I came into
Asia, after what manner I have bene |Asia, after what manner I have been
with you at all ceasons, servynge God|with you at all seasons, serving
with all humbleness off mynde, and |the Lord with all humility of mind,
with many teares, and temtacions, |and with many tears and temptations
whiche happened vnto me by the |which befell me by the lying in
layinges awayte off the iewes, and |wait of the Jews: And how I kept
howe I kepte backe nothynge thatt |back nothing that was profitable
myght be for youre proffet: but that |unto you, but have showed you, and
I have shewed you, and taught you |have taught you publicly, and from
openly and at home in youre houses, |house to house, testifying both to
witnessynge bothe to the iewes and |the Jews, and also to the Greeks,
also to the grekes, the repentaunce |repentance toward God, and faith
tawarde god, and faith tawarde our |toward our Lord Jesus Christ.
lorde Jesu. |
|
"And nowe beholde I goo bounde in |And now, behold, I go bound in the
the sprete vnto Ierusalem, and knowe |Spirit unto Jerusalem, not knowing
nott what shall come off me there, |the things that shall befall me
butt that the holy gost witnesseth in|there: Save that the Holy Ghost
every cite, sayinge: that bondes and |witnesseth in every city, saying
trouble abyde me: but none of tho |that bonds and afflictions abide
thinges move me. Nether is my lyfe |me. But none of these things move
dere vnto my silfe, that I myght |me; neither count I my life dear
fulfill my course with ioye, and the |unto myself, so that I might
ministracion which I have receaved |finish my course with joy, and the
of the lorde Jesu, to testify the |ministry which I have received
gospell of the grace of god. |of the Lord Jesus, to testify the
|gospel of the grace of God.
|
"And nowe beholde, I am sure that |"And now, behold, I know that ye
henceforthe ye all (thorow whom I |all, among whom I have gone
have gone preachynge the kyngdom of |preaching the kingdom of God,
god) shall se my face noo moore. |shall see my face no more.
Wherfore I take you to recorde this |Wherefore I take you to record
same daye, that I am pure from the |this day, that I am pure from the
bloud of all men. For I have kepte |blood of all men. For I have not
nothynge backe: butt have shewed you |shunned to declare unto you all
all the counsell off god. Take hede |the counsel of God. Take heed,
therfore vnto youre selves, and to |therefore, unto yourselves, and
all the flocke, wher of the holy gost|to all the flock over the which
hath made you oversears, to rule the |the Holy Ghost hath made you
congregacion of god, which he hath |overseers, to feed the church of
purchased with his bloud. For I am |God, which he hath purchased with
sure off this, that after my |his own blood. For I know this,
departynge shall greveous wolves |that after my departing shall
entre in amonge you, which will not |grievous wolves enter in among you,
spare the flocke. And off youre awne |not sparing the flock. Also of
selves shall men aryse speakynge |your own selves shall men arise,
perverse thynges, to drawe disciples |speaking perverse things, to draw
after them. Therfore awake and |away disciples after them.
remember, that by the space of iij. |Therefore watch and remember, that
yeares I ceased not to warne every |by the space of three years I
one of you, both nyght and daye with |ceased not to warn every one night
teares. |and day with tears.
|
"And nowe, dere brethren, I commende |"And now, brethren, I commend you
you to god, and to the worde of his |to God, and to the word of his
grace, which is able to bylde |grace, which is able to build you
further, and to geve you an |up, and to give you an inheritance
inheritaunce amonge all them which |among all them which are
are sanctified. I have desyred no |sanctified. I have coveted no man's
mans silver, golde, or vestur. Ye, |silver, or gold, or apparel. Yea,
ye knowe well that these hondes have |ye yourselves know that these hands
ministred vnto my necessites, and to|have ministered unto my
them thatt were with me. I have |necessities, and to them that were
shewed you all thynges, howe that soo|with me. I have showed you all
laborynge ye ought to receave the |things, how that so laboring ye
weake, and to remember the wordes off|ought to support the weak; and to
the lorde Jesu, howe that he sayde: |remember the words of the Lord
It is more blessed to geve, then to |Jesus, how he said, It is more
receave. |blessed to give than to receive.
|
"When he had thus spoken, he kneled |"And when he had thus spoken, he
doune, and prayed with them all. And |kneeled down, and prayed with them
they wept all aboundantly, and fell |all. And they all wept sore, and
on Pauls necke, and kissed hym, |fell on Paul's neck, and kissed
sorrowynge, most of all, for the |him; sorrowing most of all, for the
wordes which he spake, thatt they |words which he spake, that they
shulde se his face noo moore." |should see his face no more."
There is not a little similarity between the character of Tyndale,
in some particulars, and that of St. Paul. Like the apostle, he was
meek, single-minded, and in all things, he 'persevered unto the end.'
Persecutions, stripes, buffettings--'none of these things moved him,
neither counted he his _life_ dear unto himself, so that he might
finish his course with joy,' in defence of the gospel of the grace of
God.
The parable of the ten talents must close our examples of this rare
work:
"Lykwyse as a certayne man redy to |"For the kingdom of heaven is as a
take his iorney to a straunge |man travelling into a far country,
countree, called hys servauntes to |who called his own servants, and
hym, and delyvered to them hys |delivered unto them his goods. And
goodes. And vnto won he gave v. |unto one he gave five talents, to
talentes, to another ij. and to |another two, and to another one; to
another one: to every man after his |every man according to his several
abilite, and streyght waye departed. |ability; and straightway took his
Then he thatt hadde received the fyve|journey. Then he that had received
talentes, went and bestowed them, and|the five talents went and traded
wane other fyve. Lykwyse he that |with the same, and made them other
receaved ij. gayned other ij. but he |five talents. And likewise he that
that receaved one, went and digged a |had received two, he also gained
pitt in the erth, and hyd his masters|other two. But he that had received
money. After a longe season, the |one, went and digged in the earth,
lorde of those servauntes cam, and |and hid his lord's money. After a
reckened with them. Then came he that|long time the lord of those servants
had receaved fyve talentes and |cometh, and reckoneth with them.
brought other fyve, sayinge: master, |And so he that had received five
thou deliveredes vnto me fyve |talents came, and brought other
talentes, lo I have gayned with them |five talents, saying, Lord, thou
fyve moo. His master said vnto him: |deliveredst unto me five talents:
well good servaunt and faythful, Thou|behold, I have gained besides them
hast bene faythful in lytell, I will |five talents more. His lord said
make the ruler over moche, entre in |unto him, Well done, thou good and
into thy masters ioye. Also he that |faithful servant; thou has been
receaved ij. talentes cam, and sayde:|faithful over a few things, I will
master, thou delyveredes vnto me ij. |make thee ruler over many things:
talentes, lo I have wone ij. other |enter thou into the joy of thy lord.
with them. His master saide vnto hym,|
well good servaunt and faythfull, |"He also that had received two
thou hast bene faythefull in litell, |talents came and said, Lord, thou
I woll make the ruler over moche; go |deliveredst unto me two talents;
in into thy masters ioye. |behold, I have gained two other
|talents besides them. His lord
"He which had receaved the one talent|said unto him, Well done, good and
cam also, and said: master, I |faithful servant; thou has been
considered that thou wast an harde |faithful over a few things, I will
man, which repest where thou sowedst |make thee ruler over many things:
not, and gadderest where thou |enter thou into the joy of thy
strawedst not, and was affrayd, and |lord. Then he which had received
went and hyd thy talent in the |the one talent came and said, Lord,
erthe; lo, thou hast thyne awne. His |I knew thee that thou art a hard
master answered, and sayde vnto hym: |man, reaping where thou hast not
evyll servaunt and slewthfull, thou |sown: and gathering where thou hast
knewest that I repe where I sowed |not strewed: And I was afraid, and
nott, and gaddre where I strawed |went and hid thy talent in the
nott: thou oughtest therefore to |earth; lo, there thou hast that is
have had my money to the chaungers, |thine. His lord answered and said
and then at my commynge shulde I |unto him Thou wicked and slothful
have receaved my money with vauntage.|servant, thou knewest that I reap
Take therefore the talent from hym, |where I sowed not, and gather where
and geve hit vnto him which hath |I have not strewed; Thou oughtest,
x talentes. For vnto every man that |therefore, to have put my money to
hath shalbe geven, and he shall have |the exchangers, and then at my
aboundance. And from hym that hath |coming I should have received mine
not, shalbe taken awaye, even that |own with usury. Take, therefore,
he hath. And cast that vnprophetable |the talent from him, and give it
servant into vtter dercknes, there |unto him which hath ten talents.
shalbe wepynge, and gnasshinge of |For unto every one that hath, shall
theth." |be given, and he shall have
|abundance: but from him that hath
|not, shall be taken away even that
|which he hath. And cast ye the
|unprofitable servant into outer
|darkness: there shall be weeping
|and gnashing of teeth."
It is indeed surprising, as is remarked by the patient, diligent
biographer, how little obsolete the language of this translation is,
even at this day; and in point of perspicuity, noble simplicity,
propriety of idiom, and purity of style, no English version has yet
surpassed it. The effect of the publication of this volume will
be, we think, to cause Tyndale's persecutors to be lashed by all
posterity; for he was a man of kind and inoffensive nature, and in
all the evils which he was called to bear, seems to have endured them
meekly, and to have thought, with a contemporary poet, that
'As threshing separates from straw the corn,
By trials from the world's chaff are we born;'
that the world was only made troublesome to him, that he should
not be delighted by the way, and forget whither he was going. The
hundred-necked snake of criticism which assailed the Bible-martyr
three centuries ago, has long been dead; and Christians will preserve
his memory in holy keeping, so long as the Scriptures are read, and
found 'profitable for reproof, instruction, and sound doctrine.'
* * * * *
'THE GENTLEMAN'S MAGAZINE.'--We have received the first number of a
new monthly publication, thus entitled, from the press of Mr. CHARLES
ALEXANDER, Philadelphia. The form is somewhat after the model of
'The Lady's Book,' although scarcely so neat in the externals of
paper and printing. The editorial direction is confided to WILLIAM
E. BURTON, Esq., the comedian, whose popularity as an actor is very
general, and whose ready humor finds vent as well from a facile
pen, as from lips and gesture. Such of our readers as remember 'An
Actor's Alloquy'--and all who have _read_ the series, must be of the
number--may well believe, that an easy style, and a keen sense of the
burlesque or ridiculous, will characterize the Editor's contributions
to the Magazine, which, in the issue before us, predominate both
in number and attraction. Puns abound in 'The Schuylkill Pic-Nic,'
'Cosmogonical Squintings,' etc., while 'The Convict and His Wife'
will win encomiums for fine description and pathetic incident. In
these, and other portions, the hand of the editor is discernible. We
subjoin two extracts from 'Sailors, an Anecdotal Scribble,' evidently
from the same pen:
"Three sailors, anxious to rejoin their ship, and unable to
procure seats in the stagecoach, hired a horse and gig. The
vehicle was a large, old-fashioned article, mounted on a pair
of very high wheels, and having endured many years of hard and
painful service, grumbled most audibly at every jerk or jingle.
The horse fortunately was steady, for the sailors were totally
unacquainted with the management of 'the land craft.' Upon
starting, one of the crew picked up the reins, and said to his
mates, 'Well, strike me lucky, if this ain't a rum go. Look'ye
here; some lubber has tied the tiller ropes together!' A knife
was procured, and the reins separated, when the spokesman,
who sat in the middle, handed them right and left to his
comrades. 'Dick, hold on here to larboard. Jack, you here, to
starboard, while I look out ahead.' The pilot's directions ran
something in this shape. 'Larboard--put her nearer the wind,
Dick. Larboard a _pint_ more, or we shall foul the small craft.
She answers the helm well. 'Bout ship. Give her a long leg to
starboard, Jack, just to weather that flock of mutton. Keep her
a good full--she jibes!--port your helm, or you'll run down
the bloody wagon. (_A crash and a general spill._) I told you
so--and here we are.'"
"The drama of the Battle of Waterloo was about to be produced
at a theatre in an English sea-port town. Numbers of
supernumeraries were wanted to fill the ranks of the French
and the English forces; and some of the sailors belonging
to the numerous ships in the harbor were mustered for the
required purpose. At rehearsal, each supernumerary received a
numbered ticket, and was expected to answer when that number
was called, that he might be instructed in the duties of the
station assigned to him. No. 7 was named, but an answer was not
forthcoming. 'You are No. 7, I believe,' said the stage-manager
to a big-whiskered, long-tailed tar. 'Exactly.' 'Why did you
not answer to the call!' 'Bill Sykes, is No. 4. You've shoved
him in the enemy's squad; now we've sailed, messed, and _fout_
together, for twenty years, and we're not going to be enemies
now.' Remonstrance was useless; the holder of No. 8 was induced
to change numbers with Bill Sykes, and the messmates were not
divided.
"When a portion of the jolly tars were told that they were to
represent Frenchmen, they, one and all, indignantly refused.
'It was disgrace enough to _hact_ as soldiers, but they'd be
blessed if they'd pretend to be Mounseers at any price, or put
on the enemy's jackets.' The manager was compelled to procure
landsmen for Napoleon's army; but the night ended in a row; the
sham-fight broke into a real battle; muskets were clubbed, and
heads broken, and Nos. 7 and 8 were given into the custody of
the police, as ring-leaders of a dangerous riot.
"No. 7, when before the magistrate, thus defended himself:
"'Why, your honor, these here sky-larking players gets
half-a-dozen old muskets, two or three fowling-pieces, and a
pair-and-a-half of pistols, with half a pound of powder in a
paper, and they calls it the Battle of Waterloo--gammoning
Bill Sykes and me to put on a lobster's jacket apiece, and
fire, off two o' these 'ere muskets, what an old one-eyed
purser in a corner had been loading with a 'bacca pipe full o'
powder. Well, Bill Sykes, and I, and Joe Brown, and six more,
were the British army; and opposite us was some six or eight
land-lubbers, a hacting the Mounseers. The skipper of the show
people told us, when we'd squibbed off our muskets over the
Mounseers' heads, to retire backerds, as if retreating from
the French. In course, this here was hard work for jack tars
what had sarved their country for twenty years, to be told to
run away from half-a-dozen land-lubbers a pretending to be
French. Well, it war'nt o' no use kicking up a row then, but at
night, Bill Sykes and I argufied the matter over a can o' grog,
and we concluded not to disgrace our flag, but to stand up
for the honor of Old England. Well, when the scrimmage begun,
the land-lubbers called out to us to retreat. 'See you damned
first!' says I, and Bill werry quietly said he wished they
might get it, which I didn't think they would. Bill Sykes, in
slewing round to guard his starn, put his foot on a piece of
orange peel, and missing stays, came on his beam ends. One of
the imitation _parley woos_ made a grab at him, to captiwate
Bill, when, in course, I covered my friend, and accommodated
the sham Mounseer with a hoist as didn't agree with him; he was
one o' them mutton-fed chaps as can't stand much; for he landed
among the fiddlers, and squealed blue murder. Well, arter a row
begins, you never know nothing till its over. Bill Sykes and
I cleared out the French army in no time, and then we tipped
the player people a broadside, and took their powder magazine
prisoner. The cabin passengers interfered, and Bill Sykes and
I got surrounded--but if I'd had a bagginet at the end of my
musket, if I wouldn't have cleared the decks like 'bacca, damn
my sister's cat.'"
Mr. BURNS, at 262 Broadway, is the New-York agent for 'The
Gentleman's Magazine.' _Appropos_: Why exclude the better sex? As
POWER would say: 'The ladies, you dog--you wouldn't lave out the
ladies, would you?'
* * * * *
'STORIES FROM REAL LIFE.'--We have before spoken of this admirable
series, designed to teach true independence and domestic economy;
and the third of the five numbers, now before us, is worthy its
predecessors. It is entitled 'The Harcourts; Illustrating the
Benefits of Retrenchment and Reform,' and is from the pen of a lady.
It well enforces the lesson conveyed in the motto, from IRVING: 'It
is not poverty so much as pretence, that harasses the mind. Have
the courage to appear poor, and you disarm poverty of its sharpest
sting.' We are struck, in perusing this little book, with the nice
tact at _contrast_ of scene and character which the writer displays,
not less than with the plain good sense which marks her reflections
and deductions. 'The Harcourts' exemplify the correctness of the
position assumed in the well-written introduction, which we copy, in
part, below:
"In searching out the causes of the present deranged state
of the times, there is one which should not be overlooked.
Whatever the merchant or the politician may assign as the
immediate agent, we are persuaded that the fearful increase
of luxury and ostentation in our houses, our equipages, and
our dress, is the remote and secret cause, to a great extent,
that has been stealing the blood from our vitals, until it
has left us in so enfeebled a state as to fall ready victims
to the prevailing epidemic. If the healthful occupation and
the simple living, the free air and honest independence of
republicanism, have been exchanged for luxurious indolence and
French cookery, for the stifling marts of manner and fashion,
and the tinkling chains of European bondage; can we wonder that
our whole community should be in the condition spoken of by the
prophet when describing the Jews? 'The whole head is sick and
the whole heart faint. From the sole of the foot, even unto
the head, there is no soundness in it.' We have engrafted the
gorgeous and costly vanities of Europe upon American fortunes,
and these have not been able to bear their heavy expense. We
need domestic retrenchment and reform in all the departments
of home. If we cultivate intellectual refinement and 'true
independence,' our tastes will become simple, and the glitter
of fashion will have no power to attract us. In less spacious
mansions, by more judicious household arrangements, and when
our daughters are taught to be useful, there will be more home
comfort, more hearth-side happiness. We need a reformation,
and the present time is favorable for commencing one. We
should all learn wisdom from the distress now prevailing.
If our men become convinced there was more honor and safety
in their forefathers' mode of transacting business; if our
females become ashamed of their folly in making our parlors
'show-rooms' for the upholsterer, the cabinet maker, and the
importer of fancy articles; if we are forced to acknowledge
our criminal oversight in making our sons spendthrifts, and
our daughters walking advertisements of the fashions; then the
pressure of which we complain, though so hard to bear now, will
become a source of grateful feeling in the retrospect; for
its result will then be, a safe and speedy return to American
feelings, republican simplicity, and honest independence."
The following little sketch shows some of the difficulties
encountered by a scheming parvenue, in her ridiculous attempts at
'living like other people:'
"'There is one way in which I can save ten or fifteen dollars
at least. It is now nearly two weeks from the evening we have
fixed on, and if we can continue to do without buying any
meat or poultry, which are now so very high-priced, and live
on light dinners until that time, we can take the money your
father allows for marketing, and add it to the sum he has
given us. He has a great deal of business to attend to for
several weeks, and told me that he would not be able to dine at
home; and as there will be no one here but ourselves and the
servants, we can live upon any thing.'
* * * * *
"The following week, Mrs. Harcourt, her two daughters, and the
servants were busy in the work of preparation. Cakes were to
be made, candle papers had to be cut and spermed; the rooms
must be decorated, and a thousand other little matters were
obliged to be performed. One servant was sent to borrow plate,
another cut-glass and china. The regular routine of household
employments was broken in upon, every thing turned up side
down, and many vexatious trials endured, merely for the sake
of making a show for a few hours, and in the vain attempt 'to
reconcile parade with economy, and to glitter at a cheap rate.'
It is a folly for the wealthy to waste their hundreds and
thousands in entertaining guests who either satirise them from
envy of their prosperity, or ridicule them for some outward
imitation of style; but for those who are obliged to practise
self-denial and parsimony in order to make such displays, it is
worse than folly--it is madness.
"Mrs. Harcourt, during the course of their preparations, having
reproved one of her servants for her carelessness in breaking a
glass dish, she insolently replied, 'You may take the pay for
it, madam, out of my wages, and then give me the remainder;
for my month is up this evening, and I cannot think of staying
where I have to do double work on half-feeding. At other
'quality' ladies' houses I was accustomed to get meat three
times a day, and I cannot live on slops;' and then slamming the
door violently after her, she did not give Mrs. Harcourt an
opportunity to make any reply.
"'What an insolent creature,' exclaimed Anna; 'I would not
permit her to stay in the house another instant.'
"Mrs. Harcourt, who had been more accustomed to the
impertinence of hirelings, had more self-command than Anna.
She regretted that it had happened just at this time, when
they had so much to do. She thought it was shameful for her
to take advantage of this opportunity, when she knew that her
services were most needed. 'But,' she added, 'her insolent
language should not be borne; I will pay her, and discharge
her, although it does put me to great inconvenience.'
"'You can send for Sally White to assist us,' said Anna; 'she
is always very willing to help when we expect company.'
"'Yes, I know she is willing enough, but she generally carries
away with her treble what her services are worth; but we must
have some one in Betsey's place, so we will send Nathan for
Sally White, as we can do no better now.'
"Among all the mortifications and irritations which those who
are striving to keep up appearances without means are forced to
submit to, there are none more galling than the impertinence of
servants, and the consciousness that they see the _reality_,
and will make the struggle between our pride and our poverty a
favorite subject of gossip with the servants of other families,
who, of course, will find _opportunities_ to make it known to
their mistresses."
* * * * *
BRISTOL ACADEMY, TAUNTON, (MASS.)--We take pleasure in calling public
attention to this establishment, the preceptorship of which has
but recently been assumed by J. N. BELLOWS, ESQ., a ripe scholar,
a gentleman of pure taste, possessing the requisite feelings, and
all proper endowments, for such an undertaking. The institution is
one of the oldest in the state, and is endowed with liberal funds.
The town is a charming _rus in urbe_, being but an hour or two from
Boston and Providence, by the rail-road. The Academy has a female
department, under the charge of an able instructress, in which the
accomplishments of music, drawing, and all the 'elegant humanities'
of similar establishments, are taught. We can confidently commend
this institution to the numerous families under whose eyes this
paragraph will fall, as one in which boys and girls will receive, in
addition to a good education, those pleasant attentions which can
only spring from such as delight to renew that 'childhood of the
soul' which prompts a love of the young, and a community of feeling
with the joys and sorrows of that tender yet fertile period--fertile
in good or ill--of human existence.
LITERARY RECORD.
THE ALBION.--We know of no weekly periodical in America, which
combines so many literary attractions as this. The editor, by an
arrangement abroad, obtains, at an advance period, the choicest
magazines, and periodicals of all descriptions, published in British
Europe. From these he selects, with practised judgment, the best
articles, and such as are calculated to suit the tastes of all his
readers; giving, occasionally, a superb engraving. The whole is
presented in the imperial quarto form, upon beautiful types, and
paper of the finest texture and color. The best productions of
Captain MARRYAT, 'Boz,' and others--indeed of all the most popular
periodical writers in Europe--appear in the Albion, before they can
be issued elsewhere in America; and the work is forwarded with great
promptitude, by the earliest mails, to every part of the United
States and of British America. Its success, during a long career,
has been most ample; and this has been obtained, not by reverberated
puffs of extraordinary attraction, but by MERIT alone. To such a
journal we gladly render an unsolicited meed of praise, and commend
it to public favor. A new volume has been but recently commenced.
PRACTICAL RELIGION.--We commend to the attention of our readers,
a handsome volume, of some three hundred pages, recently issued
from the press of Mr. JOHN S. TAYLOR, entitled 'Practical Religion,
Recommended and Enforced, in a Series of Letters from EPSILON to his
Friend.' There are thirty-three of these letters, and they embrace,
among others, the subjoined themes: To the careless, awakened, and
backsliding sinner; formation of devotional habits; the passive
virtues of Christianity; proper manner of studying the doctrines
of the gospel; duty of religious profession; doing good, and the
right use of property; personal efforts for sinners; choice of a
profession; practical dependence on divine aid; love of popularity,
Christian politeness, and political duty; the choice of a wife;
to a Christian on his marriage, in affliction, and on recovery
from sickness; on his removal to new settlements, his duty to his
minister, in revivals of religion, and in trusting to GOD for
temporal provision, etc. The letter on the choice of a partner in
conjugal life, and those on a cognate topic, are full of excellent
advice. The style is fluent, and occasionally rises to eloquence.