(seq. 6)

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[fol. 2v]

I have thought of sympathizing with them by letter;
but I tremble at injudiciously striking strings al-
ready too much worn. Do you, friend Abbot, as you re-
gard their happiness, exert your talents at condolence.
Their gratitude will repay you. Your own feelings
will more than compensate.

Eben. Wales, whose friendship I count almost
inestimable, I heard of first by you, afterwards by
cousin Howe only. His last favor to me bears date
August 1793; since which time I have written
him two neglected letters. Does his partiality to
you forbid his even noticing me? I fear, he thinks
me an intruder in his father's family.

Your sentiments on religion, in your
3d. favor, afforded me great pleasure. "Religion is,"
certainly "a practical thing." But how is it to be
preached? What are its essentials? When may a
person be said to be regenerated? How are we to
reconcile Divine and human agency? There, and
many such insolvable difficulties, now agitate the
eccelsiastical world. We must undoubtedly allow
many rigid Hopkinsians to be men of sincerity
and erudition. But if their peculiar opinion be
just, how difficult a thing is religion! how de-
plorable the conditions of the great body of
mankind? Yet these are not the only difficul-
ties. If we make peace with our opponents in
religious sentiment, we have the more inflexi-

[fol. 2r]

ble enemies of Christianity to encounter. But,
why should we regard those, who either prede-
termine religion a subject of sarcasm and in-
vective, or reject it, because inconsistent with
their beloved habits of vice? An immoral
Christian, it must be granted, is a logical sole-
cism. If, then we search for truth with unbi-
ased minds, & practise accordingly shall we not be accepted by our
Judge? Says the poet,

"For modes of faith let graceless zealots fight;
"His can't be wrong, whose life is in the right."

Your letters from the Worcester Pos[ ]ice
I receive punctually by the politeness of a [ ]

I wish much to hear of [ ]
John. If at home, be so kind, as to present [ ]m
my warmest respects.

I beg you to read this farrago
with that candor, which you seem ever dis-
posed to exercise toward your unworthy,
though sincere, friend, Philos.

P.S. I have, this evening, heard of the death of
a Mrs Brown of Brookfield, 12 miles W from this
place, by a blow from her passionate husband. She
survived the stroke 24 hours. The jury's verdict
is not yet known.

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