ether we will let him bring us. The question is, whether we are willing to accept this substitution of the innocent One for our guilty selv eat clean diet potato soup , who had changed colour, and pale and trembling had shrunk back a few steps. "A villain he is, the fiend!" cried Antonio: "a magician, who .
aculously young by the birth of this new Abraham--almost as if at last she had been given the son for whom in her youth she had prayed with .
ery succeeding step in the Christian life exactly as you took the first one;--in self-renunciation, in entire dependence. As ye have receiv .
were busy spiking the gnus, and firing away right and left, we made out, through the darkness, what we took to be a large body of Dutch tro .
te. Of Railways indeed, both British and foreign, there are a few interesting memorials; but Railways are one branch only of a subject whic .
my lads to give their dears; Pins and poking-sticks of steel,鈥� What maids lack from head to heel.鈥� Then did he chant after the f .
ou off. Eleanor! look up. Look up and kiss me." Eleanor overcame the passion of tears as soon as possible, yet not till a few minutes had p .
, on reading the statement that Sir Matthew Hale, afterwards Lord Chief Justice of England, the irreproachable jurist and judicial saint, w .
m, and he lay almost smiling happily as his brother's tears fell on his muddy and blood-clotted face. As if from a trance his eyes opened, eat clean diet potato soup _peace_. The peace that the Lord Jesus left as his parting gift to his people; the peace that is not as the world giveth. How the world giv .
I stole out of the house, and tried to find my way to the shed where Lyal told me he was chained at night. I had taken good note of the bea .
nd back its echoes shake; And, shouting peals of laughter, The trumpet rushes after, And cries: Wild spirit awake! Amid them flute-tones fl .
y, Eleanor? What makes you say that? What is the matter? I knew yesterday you were not happy." "I am never going to be happy. I hope you wi .
h-making event reached Israel Putnam, this great exemplar of the minutemen proved a model worthy their emulation. The messenger with the do .
account of his progress or of his standing in the Christian life. Each spoke only when called upon by Mr. Rhys; and each was answered in h .
ears. Julia, her mother and Alfred, Mrs. Caxton, her own intense loneliness and shrinking delicacy in the uncertainty of her position, they .
r the lamentable struggle between the French and the English for supremacy in North America, he might have continued as the humble and pros .
ke me along with you." "You will not go." "How do you know?" "Neither your feeling nor your taste agree with it." "What _are_ you going to eat clean diet potato soup longs for a taste of England. Brother Rhys too is a man to feel all such things. He has a good deal of taste, and what you might call sens .
said Mr. Amos in that interval. "Do!" said his wife. "Please do!" Whether Eleanor was precisely in a singing mood or no, she began as desir .
ys; and that I ever had remembered it. Had I always thought of that awful truth, there are many things I could not possibly have ventured t .
aid I was very wrong," said Eleanor meekly, "so do not call it back." He bent forward to kiss her, which did not steady Eleanor's thoughts .
several places, to resist tyranny and the violence of superstition banded both against them, will never seek to be forgiven that which may .
you are not in a hurry to get to the end of the voyage." Mr. Amos smiled and Eleanor blushed. The truth was, she never let herself think o .
d, half-turned as if in hesitation, then ran on more slowly, with zigzag steps, as if desperately looking for a way out. But he said to me .