“I don’t want the language of three hundred years ago,” he asserted. “I want the language of today.”
It is his custom to crowd the margins of his Bibles with annotations. He fills up one copy after another—one of these is in the possession of Mrs. John Markoe of Philadelphia, who prizes it greatly.
By the name of George Borrow and the picture of Jeremiah Horrox on the fly-leaf of the copy he now uses, he has written “My inspirers.”
There is much interleaving and all the inserted pages are crowded with trenchant observations and reflections on the meaning of life.
Adhering to the inner side of the front corner is a poem:
“Is thy cruse of comfort failing?
Rise and share it with another.
. . . . . .
Scanty fare for one will often
Make a royal feast for two.”