The Monthly Review

Front Cover
R. Griffiths., 1801
Editors: May 1749-Sept. 1803, Ralph Griffiths; Oct. 1803-Apr. 1825, G. E. Griffiths.
 

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Page 99 - The man that hails you Tom or Jack, And proves by thumps upon your back How he esteems your merit, Is such a friend, that one had need Be very much his friend indeed, To pardon or to bear it.
Page 272 - Therefore thus saith the Lord God ; I will even rend it with a stormy wind in my fury; and there shall be an overflowing shower in mine anger, and great hailstones in my fury to consume it.
Page 171 - evidence of things not seen," in the fulness of Divine grace ; and was profound on this, the greatest concern of human life, while unable even to comprehend how the " inclination of the earth's axis to the plane of its orbit" could be the cause of the change of the seasons.
Page 273 - As for God, his way is perfect: the word of the Lord is tried : he is a buckler to all those that trust in him.
Page 60 - Love is patient and kind; love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong, but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.
Page 272 - He bowed the heavens also, and came down: and darkness was under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub, and did fly: yea, he did fly upon the wings of the wind.
Page 353 - It has long been a custom, in many parts of the country, to fix a small box at the end of a long pole, in gardens, about houses, &c., as a place for it to build in. In these boxes they build, and hatch their young. When the young are hatched the parent bird feeds them with a variety of different insects, particularly such as are injurious in gardens.
Page 274 - Thou hast delivered me from the strivings of the people; And thou hast made me the head of the heathen: A people whom I have not known shall serve me. As soon as they hear of me, they shall obey me; The strangers shall submit themselves unto me.
Page 428 - Ross, each lisping babe replies. Behold the Market-place with poor o'erspread ! The Man of Ross divides the weekly bread : He feeds yon Alms-house, neat, but void of state, Where Age and Want sit smiling at the gate: Him portion'd maids, apprentic'd orphans blest, The young who labour, and the old who rest. Is any sick ? the Man of Ross relieves, Prescribes, attends, the med'cine makes, and gives.
Page 398 - The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has not where to lay his head.

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