arms of "the people" will bear them up and along, often in real triumph, and almost always with better success and better support, too, than they could find elsewhere in the Christian field. But enough on this subject. To men of superior talent, Methodism offers an open and, I think, a special field. It presents a three-fold inducement to such. First, its rapid growth, in both numbers and influence, has created a larger demand for talent than now exists in any other denomination. Within twenty years what development has Methodism undergone in these respects! Our city chapels, as remarked in my last letter, have been generally renovated within that period, and the social standing of a very considerable portion of our members has been quite visibly changed. In the larger communities, and not only there, but everywhere, talent is called for-not merely natural but cultivated, educated talent, as I have said. The fact is, the progress of social change and intelligence among our people has somewhat out-sped that of education in the ministry; and while in the more thoroughly educated ministries of other Churches men of high attainments often struggle through delays and hard competitions before securing suitable spheres of employment, among us such are burdened, as I have shown, with too heavy a pressure of labor and promotion. No people, in fine, show a greater avidity for pulpit ability, none welcome more heartily men of talent, or forbear more leniently with the preemptions usually claimed by genius, than our own, especially in the cities. But do they pay them as well? That is a paramount question with a certain class but seldom or never with men of elevated talent; still it is an important one, for genius itself cannot "Feed on the contentment of its own good thoughts, And feast itself with its own self-delight." I have spoken on the question of ministerial support among us in my last letter, and made out a very bad general showing; but respecting the particular class of preachers now referred to, that showing must be much qualified. Our people are disposed to pay them well-not extravagantly, nor yet equally with other and more competent sects: for how could this be expected? But they generally give them not only a hearty welcome, and an open and ample field, but a good support; and, considering the comparative recency and struggles of the Church, its improvement in this respect is altogether honorable. Whatever may have been the first pecuniary disadvantages of men of talent among us, no young man need now hesitate on this account to commit himself and his family to our cause. Our Churches, especially our city Churches, will very soon rank fairly by the side of other leading denominations, in fiscal resources and generous provisions for their pastors. They never will, we hope, ape the opulent ostentation of some American Churches among the " upper ten thousand," in constituting their pastors, by extravagant salaries, ecclesiastical aristocrats, that they may take fashionable rank among other parvenu aristocrats; but they will give them the support which befits cultivated, liberal, and able men. Complaint on this point is sure to cease among us-our leading men may well even now cease to utter it. There is another inducement for such men among us, viz., the peculiar opportunities which Methodism affords for the appreciation of real talent. I referred to this point in my second letter; but I wish to emphasize it here, especially as it is related to a feature of our system-the Itinerancy-which some men among ourselves have pronounced adverse to men of talent. Our pastorate is common to the whole Church, or, at least, to each conference. Every man within the conference limits is virtually and habitually a candidate for any of its appointments. The eyes of all the individual Churches are upon the whole ministerial body, in view of their future supply. A man of real talent cannot fail, sooner or later, to be ascertained under such a searching inspection. Our frequent changes, varying, at intervals, his position, give him the fairest opportunity of experimenting his powers. If they find not a congenial sphere in one place, the opportunity is soon afforded for their trial in another. Now it would seem impossible for a man of genuine abilities to be long unnoticed or unappreciated in such circumstances, and it is so. No man of such talents has a right to complain within the pale of Methodism. But are there not men of education-of mind-among us who do not eminently succeed? Yes, there are. We admit the fact promptly, and we sympathize deeply with such brethren; but we must be allowed frankly to say that the fault is not in the Church-its system or its people-but in themselves. Education gives not always popular ability, and we shall be sure to learn, as the ministry advances in literary culture, that there may be educated mediocrity and educated inferiority as well as educated superiority. Education is an untold blessing; but it will not guarantee success against original stolidity, or against self-indulged mannerisms or habits which are incompatible with success in the ministry. If a man's education leads him into habits of metaphysical study or metaphysical preaching, which are above the popular taste and the popular need, he must blame himself for his failure. If it makes him a recluse, a poor pastor, or a dull speaker, it so far opposes his success, and he alone is to blame. There are few such men among us who would not suffer equally in almost any other Church. Let them remember that the truly great man is he who makes most available his actual resources -who most fulfills the demands of the position wherein God has placed him. It is altogether folly for a public man to assume that, in consideration of his talents, however unavailable, the public is to forbear with, and even compensate, his ineffectiveness. As well might the miser expect returns of interest for his uninvested, his hidden capital. Let such men apply themselves more earnestly to the practical work of their office-let them, for the sake of the poor and ignorant among their people, lay aside somewhat the fastidiousness of their literary tastes-let them cultivate a good, hearty, popular manner, such as their common-sense tells them should be used in addressing any popular audience- let them persevere in doing thus, and it cannot be long before they will find that their literary abilities, instead of being incumbrances, are available and powerful resources. The people will recognize them as such; for the people, however uneultivated themselves, have an instinctive recognition of genuine talent, whenever it is not absurdly applied. The advantages which our Church affords for the appreciation of men of talent are, then, we think, quite peculiar, notwithstanding such exceptional cases. A man of effective ability cannot stand out before the whole conference a virtual candidate for each or any of its appointments he cannot be experimented in new spheres, every two years, without sooner or later attaining his right valuation among the people. No other Church approaches ours in this respect. Among others, a young man must often wait, as I have shown, a long time for a vacancy to occur in which he may begin his career; and if it should be an inadequate one, he must nevertheless abide in it till other contingencies give him the opportunity of presenting his claims more largely before the denomination, whereas our system is perpetually summoning talent forward and still forward to the fullest recognition of the people. I have said that Methodism presents a third inducement to such men: it is the special usefulness which superior talent may realize within our pale. Are the intellectual character and social status of our people not yet fully up to those of other leading sects? Then does Methodism need, more than the latter, the labors of intellectual men, and will afford them alike an ampler field and an ampler reward of success. I have referred to this fact (which I admit with due qualification) as a reason for the success of men of mediocrity among us. There is no contradiction in my logic, though I now apply it to another class, for it is applicable to both, owing to the progressive movement of the masses of Methodism in a social respect-a movement which peculiarly demands talents graduated to its different social degrees. Where, to a truly devoted man of talent, can a more inviting field be found than within our limits? It is white unto the harvest. We are now precisely in the best condition, recorded by our history, for such laborers. The influence of our numerous literary institutions, our innumerable and intelligent youth, the social improvement of our families, have advanced the Church to a position where, shall I not say, its loudest present demand is for ministerial improvement? The educated and devoted pastor, who avails himself of this demand, cannot fail to be either appreciated or useful. If he has the spirit of his Master and the apostles, he will look upon the field as eligible, because of the very conditions which render it necessitous. He will want to work in it, because there is so much work to be done, and so many facilities for doing it. Such, then, are some of the qualifications which I would add to my former letter, in respect to the advantages of both educated and uneducated men in our ministry. The opportunity is so favorable for some further remarks on the peculiar trials of our ministry, that I cannot let it slip. Indulge me, therefore, a few minutes longer. There are peculiar trials in it, some of them very severe; but may it not be said that most of them are such as must strengthen the personal virtue as they enhance the self-sacrifice of the devoted laborer? Is his lot cast among the masses the poor, the ignorant-more than it might be in another sect? It is a condition which his Master and the apostles coveted; and where, if he is seeking the development of his own religious character, and the salvation of others, could he better place himself? Does he sacrifice all motives of pecuniary gain in this ministration to the poor? How can the fact fail to ennoble his character, and give heroism to his life? Is he called upon to raise up intellectually and socially, as well as morally, classes which can reciprocate none or few of his own social or intellectual tastes? Great as is the privation, yet even in this respect he shall find true the words of his Lord, that "it is more blessed to give than to receive;" and into whatever scenes of want, or ignorance, or vice, his lowly walks of usefulness may lead him, he will carry with him the strengthening and exalting consciousness that he is in the footsteps of the noblest teachers and reformers of mankind-the shining tracks of Him who was the "friend of publicans and sinners." What is his mission? Is it to enjoy indolent repose in a snug parsonage, to luxuriate at the social boards of wealthy parishioners, or act the "wit" in literary re-unions, or is it to overcome the world in himself, and rescue others from its moral wreck? If the latter, then are these trials among the best conditions of his success. The habitual consciousness of such self-denial; or even self-sacrifice, should it, indeed, be the latter, must be consecrating to the spirit of a devoted man. He will triumph over the world, he will endure as seeing Him that is invisible, he will inevitably become the morally strong man, and a life spent and closed under such circumstances will be reviewed from the dying bed and the thrones of heaven with grateful joy. These are not rhetorical common-places; there are not a few such privations yet connected with the public labors of our Church. They have still a peculiar severity among us. The subject admits, however, of some qualification. There is a law in our nature, a good law, which, while it bows in humble recognition of the providence of God to such a discipline, still prompts us ever to ameliorate it. The effort to ameliorate it is a part of that discipline. Its severity, were it immitigable, might be an evil rather than a blessing. In our Church it has much improved, as I have shown; and the extreme severity which is sometimes attributed to it, and deemed by some an insurmountable We retain objection, is much exaggerated. enough of it to still give the ennobling sense of self-denial, but not so much as to impose the amount of suffering to ourselves and our families, which is sometimes alleged. I have shown that Methodism has improved rapidly in its financial interests, notwithstanding its existing deficiencies. There is no comparison between the salaries of its preachers fifty years ago and to-day. An account of the New-England Conference for 1800 says: 372 disadvantage may have resulted from this change, its conveniences to the laborer are great. He has more leisure for study-he is not absent from his family-he can avail himself of local means of improvement. If the growth of these "stationed" appointments continues a few years longer, as it has been a few years past, they will compare well with the parish accommodations of the oldest denominations in the land. "Down to 1800, the receipts of each member were reported at the conference, and, after deducting his 'quarterage, the surplus went toward equalizing as far as possible the deficit of his fellow-laborers. Even private presents, whether in clothing or money, were required to be reported and estimated in the apportionment. These self-sacrificing men were as one family in those days of privation, and what little they had, they had in common; a fact which is as noble an illustration of their character as it is a painful proof of their sufferings. At the General Conference of 1800, this rule was altered so far as to exempt private donations from the estimate. Hitherto the allowance' had been $64, besides traveling expenses; but the same General Conference raised it to $50, and allowed an equal amount for the wife or widow of the preacher, as also $16 for each child under seven years, and $24 for each over seven and under fourteen-no provision being made for children after the latter age. As the General Conference at which these amendments were made had just been held, we suppose the allowances reported at the present conference were rated according to the old rule. Hardly more than one-half of the members present had received the pit-seen-advantages in respect to his popularity, tance of $64. George Pickering's receipts amounted to $47; Joseph Snelling's, $88; Joshua (now Bishop) Soule's, $55; John Merrick's, $42; John Jones's, $31. "Some of the members were not only deficient in their quarterage, but in their allowance for traveling Joshua Hall's aggregate deficit was $64; expenses. Joseph Snelling's, $74; John Merrick's, $21,-no small proportion of their whole allowance. A considerable amount was eked out of subscriptions and donations, so that the aggregate deficit was reduced to $72 25. These items are not without historical significance. "Such were the men of our ministry a half-century ago, and such their pecuniary reward. The receipts for their traveling expenses' were quite small, as they usually started with the possession of a horse, and were entertained on their routes by their brethren. The actual cash received by them would not now be considered sufficient for the annual cost of clothing alone, though that expense has been reduced at least onefourth since their day. They had no resources for the purchase of books, except what they obtained by selling the denominational publications on their extended circuits." Such pecuniary privation, and the sufferings which must necessarily attend it to the laborer and his family, would, as a permanent fact, be an insupportable evil-a moral evil. There are some sections of our ministerial field where it still lingers; but almost universally has our fiscal system undergone a change, relieving its early pressure, and yet retaining enough of it to appeal to the spirit of self-denial in its ministry. Our preachers cannot accumulate money; but the greater proportion of them need hardly come short of a comfortable subsistence, and the prospect is altogether fair for a generous support, in the Atlantic conferences, within a few years. That prospect brightens every year. Similar assertions might also be made respecting what was once the most formidable inconvenience of our ministry-its "Itinerancy." With the exception of the episcopacy, the presiding eldership and the general secretaryships, this has almost ceased in the denser portions of the Church. What was once the New-England Conference is now six, or, more properly, seven conferences. Three or four districts once took in all that large territory, now there are about as many to each conference. Circuits, which once stretched over two hundred miles, are now broken into "stations." The "oldfashioned" circuit is hardly known among us The "saddleany more in the eastern states. bags" are no longer the symbol of Methodist itinerancy; our cavalry is disbanded, and the Whatever moral war-horse is seen no more. In 1816, the "allowance" of preachers, their wives and widows, was raised to $100 per annum. The amount for children was not changed. Almost the only "Itinerancy" that remains among us is the biennial changes of the ministry, and these, by the territorial diminution of the conferences, and the modern means of conveyance, have lost their most formidable inconveniences. There are advantages also to the preacher himself in these changes, as we have his pulpit resources, and the renewal of his energies, which should render them, as a general rule, decidedly desirable. While, then, we admit that there are still demands of self-denial upon those who would enter our ministry, we contend that they are not of such an extreme character as to form an insurmountable objection to the young candidate, who, while he justly wishes a comfortable support, has also the moral courage to submit to partial privations, and the good sense to see their redeeming and ennobling advantages. I have frequently referred, in this correspondence, to the recency of some of our most important improvements. We have been rerolutionized, I have said, within twenty years, in our financial and social condition as a denomination. This fact tells more for the future than even for the past; it is but the beginning of a new era in our history. The mathematicians distinguish between "arithmetical" and "geometrical progression." The former is progression by addition; the latter by multiplication. Our progress must necessarily be hereafter on the latter scale; our past growth gives but the terms of a future geometrical advancement, and we may even look for changes, sudden and most thorough, for which our past advances have been but the prolonged and tedious preparation. The current, dammed up by obstructions, may slowly accumulate for days; but when the pressure reaches a given point the barriers give way, and the effect, which has been approximated only through days or weeks, is produced resistlessly and in an hour. We need but to have faith in God and in the vast opportunity he has given us, to see our cause develop itself in the next twenty years beyond any example in its history. We may well look to that period with inexpressible solicitude; it will either crown or close our history as a cardinal sect of Protestant Christendom. And let me say that the disposition with which you, our chief leaders, direct its new developments, will determine its coming fate. The wisdom that is "profitable to direct"-the sagacity that can see what changes are improvements; that can read aright the tendencies of public opinion, and discern and provide for the inevitable result-this is what our cause now demands, in its guiding men, above all other qualifications except their consecration to God. Yours, &c., A. STEVENS. Editorial Notes and Gleanings. A MINISTER'S WIFE. - No part of the autobiography of the late William Jay is so full of interest as the brief allusions to his wife : "How much," he says, "has resulted from this auspicious connection, for which I can never sufficiently praise the providence of my God and Father! How far I have succeeded, it does not become me to attempt to determine; but of this I am conscious, that I was always desirous and anxious to be a good husband; nothing, in my estimation and remarkings, being able to atone for the want of consistency and excellency here, especially in a minister. But I must have been one of the basest of men had I not always endeavored to act worthily toward the wife of my youth, to whom I am under so many obligations. It was she who contributed so much to give me that exalted idea of the female character which I have always entertained and expressed. She excluded perfectly the entrance of every notion and feeling of submission or authority, so that we had no rights to adjust, or duties to regulate. Her special qualities were admirably suited to my defects. She had an extemporaneous readiness which never failed her, and an intuitive decisiveness which seemed to require no deliberation. Her domestic virtues rendered my house a complete home, the abode of neatness, order, punctuality, peace, cheerfulness, comfort, and attraction. She calmed my brow when ruffled by disappointment or vexation; she encouraged me when depressed; she kept off a thousand cares, and left me free to attend to the voice of my calling. She reminded me of my engagements when I was forgetful, and stimulated me when I was remiss, and always gently enforced the present obligation, as 'the duty of every day required." A further testimony to the excellence of his wife occurs on the affecting occasion of the death of his youngest daughter. Her father was from home when she was suddenly assailed by incurable disease. He returned and found her unable to speak, or to recognize her father. He says: "I turned away, and was led by her mother into the solitude of my study. We kneeled down hand-inhand to pray; but not a word was uttered. At such a season, how poor is speech; and how surprising is it that persons should employ it, and not yield to the devotion of silence and tears! This was the first time death had entered into our indulged dwelling. Till now I knew not what it was truly to be a parent. My heart was desolate within me; and there was danger that weeping would hinder sowing, As my ministry had always been very much of a consolatory kind, I began to dread the application of the address of Eliphaz to Job: Behold, thou hast instructed many, and thou hast strengthened the weak hands; thy words have upholden him that was falling, and thou hast strengthened the feeble knees. But now it is come upon thee, and thou faintest; it toucheth thee, and thou art weary.' What in a measure prevented this? When pain and anguish wring the brow, As being not only her husband, but her pastor, I ought At length, however, this prop fails him. After thirty years of uninterrupted domestic happiness, this excellent and amiable woman was stricken with an extraordinary malady, resulting in such a prostration of mental and physical powers as rendered her, from that time forward, no longer the support of her husband in his trials, but the object of his deep solicitude and tender care. It had become her almost invariable habit to call things by names the reverse of what was right, and of what she herself intended: "She spoke of a drop of bread, and a thin bit of water; she called the black white, and the white black; the cold heat, and the heat cold; preaching was hearing, and hearing was preaching; in the morning she wished you good evening, and in the evening good morning." It appears that she herself was conscious of her mistakes, but without the power to correct them. We have known of similar cases, but the solution of them is beyond our reach. They would form a physiological problem which might have exercised the ingenuity of Lord Brougham, Abercrombie, or Brodie. We must not omit the touching language in which the husband speaks of his wife in this strangely altered condition : "Now that she is become in the course of nature more infirm and dependent, she is indescribably interesting. I cannot for a moment forget what she has been, and what she has done; or be insensible of my obligations to her. She needs and she occupies much of my attention, but attention endears her the more. My affection has now infused into it an unselfish tenderness, and I have learned by experience that the happiness of love results principally from its disinterestedness. And we know who has said, 'It is more blessed to give than to receive.'" ROBERT HALL AND JOHN FOSTER.-At a large party these two great men, in high spirits, were the primary attraction of the evening. In the course of conversation Hall was maintaining, with great earnestness, that he had no memory; that he could "remember nothing in past time" -illustrating his hyperbole with great beauty and plausibility. A lady present expressed her surprise; and as a proof that Mr. Hall had a tolerable good memory, mentioned that she had heard him preach many years ago, and she had recently heard him preach the very same sermon. Mr. Hall first admitted the fact, but denied the inference. When a particular topic presents itself to the mind, it brings with it its train of thought, mode of illustration, and even though the sermons might be the same, it did the very words in which it is clothed; so that not prove, he maintained, that he had any mem ory. He then left this ground, and insisted that the sermons were not the same, he knew they were not the same, and could not be so. Mr. Foster was sitting opposite, listening to the discussion. At length he said, "Mr. Hall, you know, do you, that the sermons were not the same?" "Yes, sir," was the reply, "they were not the same; I know they were not." "And Mr. Hall, you have no memory!" he slowly and firmly retorted. At a glance the "eloquent orator" saw where he was. His cheek flushed, his eye flashed, his lips poured forth a torrent of burning declamation. Foster sat imperturbed till the volcano was quiet; then dryly said, "You know, Mr. Hall, that the sermons were not the same." READING AND SPEAKING SERMONS.-The following, from Bishop Burnett, is apt and appropriate. He says, speaking of Great Britain: Reading is peculiar to this nation, and is endured in no other. It has, indeed, made our sermons more exact, and so it has produced to us many volumes of the best that are extant; but, after all, though some few read so happily, pronounce so truly, and enter so entirely into those affections which they recommend, that in them we see both the correctness of reading and the seriousness of speaking sermons, yet every one is not so happy. Some, by hanging their heads perpetually over their notes, by blundering as they read, and by running over them, do so lessen the matter of their sermons, that as they are generally read with very little life or affection, so they are heard with as little regard or esteem. Those who read ought certainly to be at a little more pains, than for the most part they are, to read true, to pronounce with an emphasis, and to raise their heads, and to direct their eyes to their hearers. And if they practiced more alone the just way of reading, they might deliver their sermons with much more advantage. Man is a low sort of creature; he does not, nay, nor the greater part cannot, consider things in themselves without those little reasonings that must recommend them to their affections. That a discourse be heard with any life, it must be spoken with some; and the looks and motions of the eye do carry in them such additions to what is said, that where these do not all concur, it has not all the force upon them that otherwise it might have. Besides that, the people, who are too apt to censure the clergy, are easily carried into an obvious reflection on reading, that it is an effect of laziness. THE DEAD. The population of the globe is estimated at 900,000,000. It is also estimated that a number equal to the entire population of the globe, existing at any one time, passes away three times in every century. As the present population of the earth has increased from a single pair, created about sixty centuries ago, one-half of the present population might be taken as a fair estimate of the average number who have passed away during each of the one hundred and eighty periods, or thirds of centuries, during which the earth may have been inhabited, which would give 8,100,000,000 for the whole number who have lived on the earth. Allowing an average of three square feet for the burial of each person, on the supposition that one-half die in infancy, and they would cover 24,300,000,000 square feet of earth. Dividing this by 27,878,400, the number of square feet in a square mile, gives less than eight hundred and seventy-two square miles, which would afford sufficient room to bury, side by side, all who have been buried in the dust of the earth -all of whom would not suffice to cover the little state of Rhode Island. EARLY RISING. The doctors are continually broaching new theories on almost every subject connected with health and longevity. There is scarely any practice or any system of dietetics, but is advocated by one party and denied as strenuously by another. "Early to bed and early to rise once seemed the embodiment of the world's wisdom. The editor of the Journal of Health proves, logically, that early rising is not only not conducive to health, but positively injurious. At sunrise, in summer, he says, the malaria which rests on the earth, when taken into the lungs and stomach, which are debili tated by long fast since supper, enters into the circulation, poisoning the blood, and laying the foundation of disease; and in winter, the same debilitated condition of the vital organs allows the blood to be chilled. Dr. Hall's idea will be a very consoling one to many. BACHELORS AND MARRIED MEN.-The celebrated Dr. Gaspar, of Berlin, estimates the mortality among bachelors, between the ages of 27 and 45, at 27 per cent.; while the mortality among married men, between the same ages, is only 18 per cent. As life advances the difference becomes even more striking. Where forty-one bachelors attain the age of 40 there are seventy-eight married men, a difference of nearly two to one in favor of the latter. At the age of 60 there are forty-eight married men to twenty-two bachelors; at 70, eleven bachelors to twenty-seven married men; and at 80, nine married men to three bachelors. It is not known that any bachelor ever lived to be a hundred years old. THE PRIZE TREATISE ON THEISM.-In our book notices of last month we adverted briefly to the volume, republished by the Messrs. Carter, of this city, to which was awarded the second prize. Of Mr. Thompson's work, which received the first premium, we have the following verdict in the London Athenæum of July 28: "These words, construed in a wide and liberal sense, comprehend the whole question between the Theist and the Atheist :-Is there a Deity, or can the phenomena of the universe be otherwise accounted for? The essayist, as it seems to us, was bound to answer this question. Mr. Thompson shirks it: The nature of our inquiry does not lead us to speak of the existence of the Supreme Being as a truth which can reasonably be called in question. It is a truth as natural to the mind as the existence of itself or of an outward world, and cannot be represented as doubtful but by the same [] andacity of skeptkism. We are to inquire, then, How do we come by the knowledge of lim which we believe ourselves to have, and how can we be reflectively assured of its validity.' "The existence of a Deity, it will be seen, is taken for granted, and doubters are branded at once as 20dacious and unreasonable skepties. Assuredly this was not the meaning of Mr. Burnett. Certainly he would not have fixed a prefatory stigma upon those whose ignorance or mental peculiarities lead them into the position of doubters. His object was to satisfy the minds of such persons; to address them in kind words of soberness and wisdom, which should bave the effect of leading them into what he would esteem a better state of thought. Mr. Thompson, it will be seen, at once takes for granted the very point that may be in dispute, and denounces all who differ from him. Having done this-and consequently repelled from the consideration of his book the persons whom it was desired to benefit-he proceeds to inquire into the evidence. And the evidence, let it be remarked. of what? The evidence of a truth-our conviction of which, he tells us, is not dependent upon the arguments of natural theology, the conclusions of reason, or the assurances of Revelation, but is innate and spontaneous, as clear to the mind as the existence of itself or of the outer world. This, we must think, Inis a very erroneous mode of treating the matter. quiry is pronounced needless-the thing in question is declared indisputable-doubters are sentenced as audacious skeptics; but Mr. Burnett has offered a prize, and, therefore, we will inquire. A book written on such a system should have been rejected by the judges as standing outside the pale of competition." - WEEKLY RELIGIOUS PRESS OF LONDON.-The principal religious weekly papers in London are as follows:-The Record, which writes against the Episcopal Church, and is not considered as very sound in orthodoxy, has the greatest |