The Christian Examiner, Volume 30

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James Miller, 1841
 

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Page 346 - Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing.
Page 94 - I have nourished and brought up children, and they have rebelled against me. The ox knoweth his owner, and the ass his master's crib : but Israel doth not know, my people doth not consider.
Page 117 - I thought in my heart, and written for fear of death, and to save my life if it might be...
Page 355 - But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in heaven, neither the Son, but the Father.
Page 117 - And as for the pope, I refuse him, as Christ's enemy, and Antichrist, with all his false doctrine.
Page 361 - Put not your trust in princes, Nor in the son of man, in whom there is no help. His breath goeth forth, he returneth to his earth; In that very day his thoughts perish.
Page 284 - replies a pamper'd goose : And just as short of reason he must fall, Who thinks all made for one, not one for all.
Page 295 - Sublime;"" instructions concerning this, and the other parts of speaking well. Besides perspicuity, there must be also right reasoning ; without which, perspicuity serves but to expose the speaker. And for the attaining of this, I should propose the constant reading of Chillingworth, who by his example will teach both perspicuity, and the way of right reasoning, better than any book that I know ; and therefore will deserve to be read upon that account over and over again ; not to say any thing of...
Page 80 - He that goeth about to persuade a multitude that they are not so well governed as they ought to be, shall never want attentive and favourable hearers...
Page 119 - Ho! cravens! do ye fear him? Slaves, traitors! have ye flown? Ho! cowards, have ye left me to meet him here alone? " But I defy him; let him come! " Down rang the massy cup, While from its sheath the ready blade came flashing half-way up; And, with the black and heavy plumes scarce trembling on his head, There, in his dark, carved, oaken chair, old Rudiger sat, — dead!

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