Nineteenth Century and After, Volume 22

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Nineteenth Century and After, 1887 - Nineteenth century

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Page 37 - An altar of earth thou shalt make unto me, and shalt sacrifice thereon thy burnt offerings, and thy peace offerings, thy sheep, and thine oxen : in all places where I record my name I will come unto thee, and I will bless thee.
Page 241 - I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with their contests and disputes, I reflect with sorrow and astonishment on the little competitions, factions, and debates of mankind. When I read the several dates of the tombs, of some that died yesterday, and some six hundred years ago, I consider that great day when we shall all of us be contemporaries, and make our appearance together.
Page 83 - O Lord God, thou strength of my health ; thou hast covered my head in the day of battle.
Page 700 - We deny the right of any portion of the species to ; decide for another portion, or any individual for another individual, what is and what is not their ' proper sphere.' The proper sphere for all human beings is the largest and highest which they are able to attain to. What this is, cannot be ascertained, without complete liberty of choice.
Page 83 - He will not suffer thy foot to be moved : and he that keepeth thee will not sleep.
Page 514 - Nay, my dear lady, this will never do. Poor David ! Smile with the simple. What folly is that ? And who would feed with the poor that can help it?
Page 217 - But, och ! it hardens a' within, And petrifies the feeling ! To catch dame Fortune's golden smile, Assiduous wait upon her ; And gather gear by ev'ry wile That's justified by honour; Not for to hide it in a hedge, Nor for a train attendant ; But for the glorious privilege Of being independent.
Page 123 - Happiness is the only good. The time to be happy is now, The place to be happy is here, The way to be happy is to make others so.
Page 592 - The Desolator desolate! The Victor overthrown The arbiter of others' fate A suppliant for his own! Is it some yet imperial hope, That with such change can calmly cope? Or dread of death alone? To die a prince — or live a slave — Thy choice is most ignobly brave!
Page 241 - When I look upon the tombs of the great, every emotion of envy dies in me; when I read the epitaphs of the beautiful, every inordinate desire goes out; when I meet with the grief of parents upon a tomb-stone, my heart melts with compassion; when I see the tomb of the parents themselves, I consider the vanity of grieving for those whom we must quickly follow; when I see kings lying by those who deposed them, when I consider rival wits placed side by side, or the holy men that divided the world with...

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