The British Essayists;: The Looker-on

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J. Johnson, J. Nichols and son, R. Baldwin, F. and C. Rivington, W. Otridge and son, W.J. and J. Richardson, A. Strahan, R. Faulder, ... [and 40 others], 1808

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Page 163 - May we know what this new doctrine, whereof thou speakest, is? 20 For thou bringest certain strange things to our ears: we would know therefore what these things mean. 21 (For all the Athenians, and strangers which were there, spent their time in nothing else, but either to tell or to hear some new thing...
Page 59 - I care not, fortune, what you me deny : You cannot rob me of free nature's grace ; You cannot shut the windows of the sky, Through which Aurora shows her brightening face ; You cannot bar my constant feet to trace The woods and lawns, by living stream, at eve Let health my nerves and finer fibres brace, And I their toys to the great children leave : Of fancy, reason, virtue, nought can me bereave.
Page 193 - He stretcheth out the north over the empty place, And hangeth the earth upon nothing. He bindeth up the waters in his thick clouds ; And the cloud is not rent under them.
Page 194 - He divideth the sea with his power, and by his understanding he smiteth through the proud. By his spirit he hath garnished the heavens ; his hand hath formed the crooked Serpent.
Page 49 - Il rappelle à soi toute l'autorité de la table, et il ya un moindre inconvénient à la lui laisser entière qu'à la lui disputer ; le vin et les viandes n'ajoutent rien à son caractère. Si l'on joue, il gagne au jeu ; il veut railler celui qui perd, et il l'offense ; les rieurs sont pour lui, il n'ya sorte de fatuités qu'on ne lui passe. Je cède enfin et je disparais, incapable de souffrir plus longtemps Théodecte et ceux qui le souffrent.
Page 49 - ... il mange , il boit , il conte, il plaisante, il interrompt tout à la fois; il n'a nul discernement des personnes , ni du maître , ni des conviés ; il abuse de la folle déférence qu'on a pour lui.
Page 156 - Yet time has seen, that lifts the low, And level lays the lofty brow, Has seen this broken pile complete, Big with the vanity of state; But transient is the smile of fate! A little rule, a little sway, A sunbeam in a winter's day, Is all the proud and mighty have Between the cradle and the grave.
Page 15 - Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker ! Let the potsherd strive with the potsherds of the earth. Shall the clay say to him that fashioneth it, What makest thou? or Thy work, He hath no hands...
Page 194 - Lo, these are parts of his ways: but how little a portion is heard of him? but the thunder of his power who can understand?
Page 92 - Now, all amid the rigours of the year, In the wild depth of Winter, while without The ceaseless winds blow ice, be my retreat, Between the groaning forest and the shore Beat by the boundless multitude of waves, A rural, shelter'd, solitary scene; Where ruddy fire and beaming tapers join, To cheer the gloom. There studious let me sit, And hold high converse with the mighty dead...

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