The Life of John Mockett Cramp: D. D., 1796-1881

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W. Drysdale, 1887 - 396 páginas
 

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Página 327 - God is not a man, that he should lie;. neither the son of man, that he should repent: hath he said, and shall he not do it ? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good?
Página 250 - Amen ; so let it be : Life from the dead is in that word, 'Tis immortality. Here in the body pent, Absent from Him I roam, Yet nightly pitch my moving tent A day's march nearer home.
Página 271 - UP and away, like the dew of the morning, Soaring from earth to its home in the sun, — So let me steal away, gently and lovingly, Only remembered by what I have done. My name and my place and my tomb, all forgotten, The brief race of time well and patiently run, So let me pass away, peacefully, silently, Only remembered by what I have done.
Página 159 - Thou therefore, my son, be strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus ; and the things that thou hast heard of me among many witnesses, the same commit thou to faithful men, who shall be able to teach others also.
Página 280 - Luxury, my lords, or the excess of that which is pernicious only by its excess, may very properly be taxed, that such excess, though not strictly unlawful, may be made more difficult. But the use of those things which are simply hurtful, hurtful in their own nature, and in every degree, is to be prohibited.
Página 280 - I affected with the merit of the wonderful skill which the distillers are said to have attained, that it is, in my opinion, no faculty of great use to mankind to prepare palatable poison ; nor shall I ever contribute my interest for the reprieve of a murderer, because he has, by long practice, obtained great dexterity in his trade. If their liquors are so delicious that the people are tempted to their own destruction, let us at length, my Lords, secure them from these fatal draughts, by bursting...
Página 365 - For thou hast delivered my soul from death, mine eyes from tears, and my feet from falling.
Página 283 - God cleaves to the stones, the timber, the furniture of them. The curse of God is in their gardens, their walks, their groves ; a fire that burns to the nethermost hell. Blood, blood is there : the foundation, the floor, the walls, the roof, are stained with blood...
Página 374 - HEAR what the voice from heaven proclaims, For all the pious dead, Sweet is the savour of their names, And soft their sleeping bed. 2 They die in Jesus and are bless'd ; How kind their slumbers are ! From sufferings and from sins released, And freed from every snare.
Página 280 - ... the trade of distilling is not to be discouraged. Once more, my lords, allow me to wonder at the different conceptions of different understandings. It appears to me that since the spirits which the distillers produce are allowed to enfeeble the limbs and vitiate the blood, to pervert the heart and obscure the intellects, that the...

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