Meet the Puritans: With a Guide to Modern Reprints by Joel R. Beeke
Puritan Gems or wise and holy sayings of Thomas Watson ( MB) A Review of the Annotations of Hugo Grotius .. that enemy of God and his people: a magazine opened, from whence the Christian is furnished with . and judicious Divines", to meet at Westminster Abbey in order to provide advice on issues of worship. Slide Show: Drafts and newspaper clippings related to “The “The Handmaid's Tale” became a best-seller, despite some sniffy reviews, like one in the explicable when seen through the lens of the Puritan witch-hunts. . Atwood and Gibson, who met in Toronto publishing circles, spent the .. Magazine. BY JOHN L. SMITHLAS VEGAS REVIEW-JOURNAL . of senators who portrayed themselves as mob-busting Puritans. . a Penthouse magazine article titled “La Costa: Syndicate in the Sun. “I was in awe of meeting him.
This, however, is only proper when the pendant is on the left-hand-side of the letter. When it descends from the centre, the matter should not follow the design, but maintain a straight margin, that the white on each side may be properly balanced.
When a new paragraph begins in the narrow measure, it should receive the same indentation as the paragraphs in the text. Some compositors omit the paragraph indentation; but the effect is very bad. The same rules of indentation apply to illustrations inserted in the margin of the text; with the one exception, that as they do not, like the initial, apply to any one line in particular, they are cut off from the text by an equal space on all three sides.
In Germany, where both the Gothic and Roman characters are in common use, the printers carefully reserve the Gothic or Old English initials for German Text work, and the Roman for its appropriate letter; but in English printing no such discrimination is possible, and letters of every character are used as initials to plain Roman.
Considerable freedom may be used in the form of an initial, as compared with letters intended to be read in lines.
Typo: A Monthly Newspaper and Literary Review, Volume 1
Some of the modern fancy job founts are excellent though costly as book initials, but are unsuited for any other use, being almost illegible when set up in words. In the use of ornamental initials, care should always be taken that the correct letter is used.
Such a caution might seem superfluous, had we not daily instances to prove its necessity. Take, for example, one of the latest English Christmas numbers, which has a profusion of engraved initials.
Farther on, the correct A of the same series is used. Among the thousands of ornamental initals in Messrs. Cassell's publications, it is rare indeed to find an error of this kind; but we have met with instances, even in the work of that famous establishment. In many cases these mistakes have no excuse; but sometimes the fault really lies with the designer, who has tortured the letter almost out of its identity.
Not long ago an English printer was criticised for having, in an otherwise admirable piece of work, used an initial D instead of O. He replied that the letter was correct, and had been specially supplied by the typefounder for the job. Unless compared with the other capitals of the fount, the O might easily be mistaken for D. We show the two letters side by side: There is, however, no excuse for mistake in the ordinary plain faces of black.
The distinction between C, F, G, and O, is well marked, yet in job work we find these letters continually interchanged, and sometimes with grotesque results. We remember a case where a firm distributed some thousands of circulars in which they were described, in great primer black, as Tailors and Outfitters. Slips of this kind occasionally occur in the typefounders' own specimens. A Massachusetts inventor has perfected a thread-stitching and knot-tying machine for pamphlet work, and has succeeded in accomplishing what has been hitherto regarded as impracticable—the tying of a square knot by machinery.
The new machine can be worked as rapidly as a wire-stitcher. One of our American serials to hand last mail is sewn by this machine, and the stitch is not distinguishable from handwork. A petroleum engine has been brought out by a firm at Hull, which may yet prove a rival to the gas-engine, and will be an excellent substitute where gas is not available.
The oil is vaporized, mixed in the proportion of 1 to of atmospheric air, compressed to a pressure of 40lb per square inch, and exploded by an electric spark. The engine is perfectly safe, even if left unattended till the supply of oil is exhausted. It is well compiled and arranged; printed on a fine quality of toned paper, and the presswork is excellent. There are no colored inset ads.
A common idea is that good work like this does not pay. We have no doubt that the publishers have proved that it does. The Herald and Telegraph offices were burnt to the ground, all the valuable machinery and a large quantity of type and other material being destroyed. The two other printing offices narrowly escaped; the flames at one time having a good hold of the Evening News building. With the assistance of the printers who were fortunate enough to escape, the two burnt-out journals were able to maintain their regular daily issue.
A terrible fire occurred in Dunedin on Sunday, 23rd January, when the large factory of the Dunedin Iron and Woodware Company was destroyed. Wallace, a sailor, engaged in saving goods, was jammed by falling ironware from an upper story. Efforts were made to rescue him when a further fall took place and three more men were buried. Esquilant begged for chloroform, and the doctors, at the risk of their lives, administered the drug both to him and Wallace.
The origin of the fire is a complete mystery. Poems of Henry Kendall. A reproach has been removed from Australian literature by the publication of the collected poems of Henry Clarence Kendall. A generation hence, his works will probably be far more widely known and esteemed than they are to-day. Rarely is a poet appreciated in his own day, and Kendall was no exception to the rule. By a limited circle he was recognized as the sweetest singer Australia has produced, and the best interpreter of her natural beauties; but to the great majority of his contemporaries the poet and his genius were alike matters of indifference.
The tastes of Young Australia are not literary. The hero of the hour is the champion athlete or the successful jockey; and the literary man—however lofty his aim or high his abilities—meets with scant recognition. It is therefore the more gratifying to find, not only that the earlier volumes of Kendall's fugitive pieces are now out of print, but that an Australian publisher has felt justified in sending forth a more complete and beautiful collection of his works than it has hitherto been possible to obtain.
In the intense love of nature, the subtle local coloring which pervades the whole, and in the perfect finish and ringing music of the rhythm, it will not suffer by comparison with the work of any modern poet. There is much that is sad, not only in the poems before us, but in the brief records we have of Kendall's biography.
The story of his life is one of stern and often ineffectual struggle with difficulties without and enemies within. Some of his most powerful lines were wrung from the depths of his own bitter experience. The world is ready enough to discern want of success, and slow to make due allowance.
It was Kendall's hapless lot to strive against an inherited failing; and it is to his credit that he overcame in the end. The darkest periods of conflict were brightened by the devotion of his admirable wife.
The poet too lightly estimated the value of his own work. Like all men of true genius, he set before him an ideal so high, that his best work seemed to him little better than failure. One of the best estimates of the quality of his genius, is that of the late poet R.
Horne, who had to adjudicate on some competition poems in the year The names of the writers were of course unknown to the critic. In awarding the prize, he wrote: Such poems as 'A Death in the Bush' are produced by no other means and by no other men; never have been, and never will be. I consider the three poems sent in by 'Arakoon' as worthy of comparison with some of the finest parts of Wordsworth's 'Excursion.
The true poet glorifies the simplest object with the light of his genius. O friend of mine, to one whose eyes Are vexed because of alien things, For ever in the wall-moss lies The peace of hills and hidden springs. From faithless lips and fickle lights The tired pilgrim sets his face, And thinketh here of sounds and sights In many a lovely forest place. And when by sudden fits and starts The sunset on the moss doth burn, He often dreams, and lo! No longer doth the earth reveal Her gracious green and gold; I sit where youth was once, and feel That I am growing old.
The lustre from the face of things Is wearing all away; Like one who halts with tired wings, I rest and muse to-day. But in the night, and when the rain The troubled torrent fills, I often think I see again The river in the hills; And when the day is very near, And birds are on the wing, My spirit fancies it can hear The song I cannot sing. In his keen insight into the all-pervading soul in nature, Kendall occasionally reminds us of Shelley; but without the affectation of paganism which is found in the older poet's verse, and is fashionable with his imitators.
However the storms of life may beat about his head, the man has his feet upon a rock who can feel and write like Kendall: One thing is surer than the autumn tints We saw last week in yonder river-bend— That all our poor expression helps and hints, However vaguely, to the solemn end.
That God is Truth; and if our dim ideal Falls short of fact—so short that we must weep— Why shape specific sorrows, though the real Be not the song that erewhile made us sleep? A man is manliest when he wisely knows How vain it is to halt, and pule, and pine; Whilst under every mystery haply flows The finest issue of a love divine. Holdsworth, in a brief preface, gives a kindly and appreciative estimate of Kendall's life-work. It is perhaps as well that the collection is not absolutely complete—even the greatest poets suffer when all their temporary and imperfect work is religiously preserved from oblivion; but there are several poems we are sorry to miss.
The poet's tribute to Charles Harpur is in the collection; but other memorial lines to his fellow poets are strangely enough absent. The closing lines of one of these are very beautiful: To Adam Lindsay Gordon, I who laid Two years ago on Lionel Michael's grave A tender leaf of my regard; yea I Who culled a garland from the flowers of song To place where Harpur sleeps; I, left alone, The sad disciple of a shining band Now gone I to Adam Lindsay Gordon's name I dedicate these lines; and if 'tis true That, past the darkness of the grave, the soul Becomes omniscient, then the bard may stoop From his high seat to take the offering, And read it with a sigh for human friends In human bonds, and grey with human griefs.
And having wove and proffered this poor wreath, I stand to-day as lone as he who saw At nightfall through the glimmering moony mists The last of Arthur on the wailing mere, And strained in vain to hear the going voice.
While they faithfully enough embodied the feeling of execration with which the would-be assassin O'Farrell was regarded at the time his deed was committed, they were not such as the kindly nature of the poet would have approved when the occasion had passed.
The humorous and the classical poems are of high merit; but the poet is at his best as the interpreter of nature as revealed in Australia. With the spirits of the woods and brooks he is at home, and they speak to him a language unknown to common ears.
When we reflect that the great modern poets have given us their finest and mellowest work after three-score and ten, we can partly realize what we have lost in Kendall, some of whose best pieces were written when he was five-and-twenty, and who was cut off at the comparatively early age of forty-one. One of the most useful Parliamentary Papers yet published has just been issued from the Government printing office: It is a complete guide to the vast labyrinth of official publications for thirty-two years.
It occupies foolscap pages, and contains nearly twelve thousand entries. Why an American contemporary asks are brewers stout, and journalists thin? Because, he replies, the brewer appeals to the stomach and the literary man to the brains—and in case of a contest between these vital organs, the former can always poll a big majority.
The above axiom has just had a comical illustration in Auckland, in the case of Mr Hancock, who owns shares in a brewery and in a newspaper. To stop the paper was easy enough; but to boycot the Beer —— They seemed to think they had been a little too hasty.
Meet the Puritans: With a Guide to Modern Reprints
One of the brightest of our trade contemporaries is the American Paper World, which has just completed its thirteenth volume. Primarily concerned with the papermaking industry, it is also filled with matter of general interest to the printing fraternity. It is printed on a beautiful quality of paper, its presswork is faultless, and its literary matter is entirely free from the vulgarity which pervades so many of the American trade organs.
For years past we have carefully preserved and bound the numbers, and we find them of abiding interest. There are one or more journalists? This is the latest: These are to be cut off by a heated wire, and floated into warmer seas, to modify the Australian climate! Lastly, Winthrop faced the question of what position the City on the Hill should adopt towards necessarily more corrupt foreign states, from the mother country of England to Roger Williams's new colony in Rhode Island.
It may be here that his practicality shows to best effect, and that the relatively democratic nature of the society the Puritans had established shows to its worst: Winthrop saw what few men in any age have learned, that the foreign policy of even the holiest state must support one evil in order to suppress a worse one. Because it requires uncommon wisdom to recognize this fact, and still greater wisdom to choose rightly among the manifold evils of the world, foreign affairs have always suffered when exposed to the undiscriminating zeal of legislative assemblies.
Winthrop had frequent cause to regret the increased power of the deputies, for the zeal of the deputies and sometimes even of the magistrates against all outlanders was a constant handicap to him in handling foreign affairs.
Thus the tension between a splendid isolation and a more robust internationalism. Morgan manages in this book is to show us that even years ago, Winthrop was already confronting many of what would be enduring themes and challenges of the American experiment.
The struggle over how democratic America should be has been at the very core of our politics. Separationism would eventually lead to revolution and the split with Great Britain and then would explode most disastrously in the Civil War. Elitism Arminianism has been evident in America's troubled history of race relations and periodic bouts of xenophobic anti-immigrant fever.
Twentieth Century nihilism Antinomianism would prove far more virulent than the Seventeenth Century variant, because no longer at least a function of religious faith. And, Isolationism has been a constant temptationmostly working to our advantage but also leaving us unprepared for things like Pearl Harbor and Morgan notes in his introduction, the Puritans are not terribly well regarded in modern America: We have to caricature the Puritans in order to feel comfortable in their presence.
They found answers to some human problems that we would rather forget. Their very existence is an affront, a challenge to our moral complacency; and the easiest way to meet the challenge is to distort it into absurdity, turn the challengers into fanatics.
It was the question of what responsibility a righteous man owes to society. But if one comes to Mr. Morgan's account of Winthrop's life with an open mind, it seems hard to imagine not being impressed by how nearly he and his fellows succeeded in what they set out to do: The purpose of New England was to show the world a community where the laws of God were followed by church and state--as nearly as fallible human beings could follow them.
It was true that this purpose had so far been achieved. Massachusetts came as close as men could come to the kingdom of God on earth. But this was not a business of shooting at the mark and, having struck it, retiring in glory. God's commission to Massachusetts carried no terminal date. To build a society so near to what God demanded and then abandon it would exhibit nothing but the usual story of human corruption.
Review of Edmund Morgan's The Puritan Dilemma: The Story of John Winthrop - 572233.info
Massachusetts must go in the ways of godliness and stand as a permanent example of how much could be accomplished in this world. To an almost discouraging degree, we must say that we still face many of the same challenges that Winthrop did, and that, for all our disdain of the Puritans, we aren't meeting the challenges as well as they did.
Indeed, God's commission to America has no terminal date and, though it remains a shining City on a Hill to the rest of the world and though as fallible men we will never perfect the community, the effort to even try and come close to the kingdom has flagged.