The Tron Kirk of Edinburgh: Or Christ's Kirk at the Tron; a History

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Oliphant, Anderson & Ferrier, 1906 - 375 страници
Reminiscences of his ministry in the Tron parish, by the Very Rev. Dr. James MacGregor: p. 347-359.
 

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Страница 299 - Cold on Canadian hills, or Minden's plain, Perhaps that parent wept her soldier slain — Bent o'er her babe, her eye dissolved in dew, The big drops, mingling with the milk he drew, Gave the sad presage of his future years, The child of misery baptized in tears.
Страница 299 - There was a strong expression of sense and shrewdness in all his lineaments ; the eye alone, I think, indicated the poetical character and temperament. It was large, and of a dark cast, and glowed (I say literally glowed) when he spoke with feeling or interest.
Страница 299 - Peace.' I whispered my information to a friend present, who mentioned it to Burns, who rewarded me with a look and a word, which, though of mere civility, I then received, and still recollect, with very great pleasure.
Страница 30 - Pagan has been dead many a day ; and as for the other, though he be yet alive, he is, by reason of age, and also of the many shrewd brushes that he met with in his younger days, grown so crazy and stiff in his joints that he can now do little more than sit in his cave's mouth, grinning at pilgrims as they go by, and biting his nails because he cannot come at them.
Страница 299 - Nasmyth's picture, but to me it conveys the idea that they are diminished as if seen in perspective. I think his countenance was more massive than it looks in any of the portraits.
Страница 163 - Can e'er untie the filial band, That knits me to thy rugged strand ! Still, as I view each well-known scene, Think what is now, and what hath been, Seems as, to me, of all bereft, Sole friends thy woods and streams were left ; And thus I love them better still, Even in extremity of ill. By Yarrow's stream still let me stray, Though none should guide my feeble way ; Still feel the breeze down Ettrick break, Although it chill my withered cheek ; Still lay my head by Teviot stone, Though there, forgotten...
Страница 298 - Of course, we youngsters sat silent, looked and listened. The only thing I remember...
Страница 212 - Many a diverting story she has told about this, and other things of a like nature. Her father liked sheep's head, and while the children were eating their broth, she had conveyed most of one into her lap ; when her brother Sandy (the...
Страница 162 - In [April 1758] my father married Anne Rutherford, eldest daughter of Dr John Rutherford, professor of medicine in the university of Edinburgh. He was one of those pupils of Boerhaave to whom the school of medicine in our northern metropolis owes its rise, and a man distinguished for professional talent, for lively wit, and for literary acquirements.
Страница 291 - Strong built and dark, with rough eyebrows, powerful eyes, threatening lips, and a low growling voice, he was like a formidable blacksmith. His accent and dialect were exaggerated Scotch ; his language, like his thoughts, short, strong, and conclusive.

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