Divine Personality and Human Life: Being the Gifford Lectures Delivered in the University of Aberdeen in the Years 1918 & 1919, Second Course

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G. Allen & Unwin, 1920 - 291 pages

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Page 150 - As the ends of such a partnership cannot be obtained in many generations, it becomes a partnership not only between those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are dead, and those who are to be born. Each contract of each particular state is but a clause in the great primaeval contract of eternal society...
Page 72 - On earth there is nothing great but man. In man there is nothing great but mind.
Page 269 - WHEN the lamp is shattered The light in the dust lies dead — When the cloud is scattered The rainbow's glory is shed. When the lute is broken, Sweet tones are remembered not ; When the lips have spoken, Loved accents are soon forgot.
Page 236 - For whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; but whosoever shall lose his life for my sake and the Gospel's, the same shall save it.
Page 78 - He hath made every thing beautiful in his time: also he hath set the world in their heart, so that no man can find out the work that God maketh from the beginning to the end.
Page 104 - And David said unto Gad, I am in a great strait: let me fall now into the hand of the LORD; for very great are his mercies: but let me not fall into the hand of man.
Page 61 - He measureth world's pleasure. World's ease, as Saints might measure ; For hire Just love entire. " He asks, not grudging pain ; And knows his asking vain, And cries — ' Love ! Love ! ' and dies, " In guerdon of long duty Unowned by Love or Beauty ; And goes — Tell, tell, who knows 1 " Aliens from Heaven's worth, Fine beasts who nose i
Page 228 - Do Finite Individuals possess a Substantive or an Adjectival Mode of Being in Proc.
Page 255 - For in death there is no remembrance of thee : In Sheol who shall give thee thanks?
Page 98 - I am your Rational Power O Albion & that Human Form You call Divine, is but a Worm seventy inches long That creeps forth in a night & is dried in the morning sun In fortuitous concourse of memorys accumulated & lost...

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