The Retrospective Review (Google eBook)

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Charles and Henry Baldwyn, 1820 - Books
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Page 73 - How charming is divine Philosophy! Not harsh and crabbed, as dull fools suppose, But musical as is Apollo's lute, And a perpetual feast of nectar'd sweets, Where no crude surfeit reigns.
Page 90 - Oblivion is not to be hired. The greater part must be content to be as though they had not been, to be found in the register of God, not in the record of man.
Page 312 - tis the soul of peace ; Of all the virtues 'tis nearest kin to heaven ; It makes men look like gods. The best of men That e'er wore earth about him was a sufferer, A soft, meek, patient, humble, tranquil spirit, The first true gentleman that ever breath'd.
Page 136 - I am as free as nature first made man, Ere the base laws of servitude began, When wild in woods the noble savage ran.
Page 92 - Darkness and light divide the course of time, and oblivion shares with memory a great part even of our living beings ; we slightly remember our felicities, and the smartest strokes of affliction leave but short smart upon us. Sense endureth no extremities, and sorrows destroy us or themselves.
Page 90 - And therefore restless inquietude for the diuturnity of our memories unto present considerations, seems a vanity almost out of date, and superannuated piece of folly. We cannot hope to live so long in our names as some have done in their persons ; one face of Janus holds no proportion unto the other. It is too late to be ambitious.
Page 304 - God, to correct, soften, or strengthen the expression), by the testimony of the Spirit, I mean, an inward impression on the soul, whereby the Spirit of God immediately and directly witnesses to my spirit, that I am a child of God ; that Jesus Christ hath loved me, and given Himself for me ; that all my sins are blotted out, and I, even I, am reconciled to God.
Page 50 - Tis as the general pulse Of life stood still, and Nature made a pause ; An awful pause! prophetic of her end.
Page 319 - Till peace go with him to the tomb. - And let him nurse his fond deceit, And what if he must die in sorrow! Who would not cherish dreams so sweet, Though grief and pain may come tomorrow?
Page 291 - If any one love me, he will keep my word, and my Father will love him, and we will come to him, and will make our abode with him.

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