The Heroines of Domestic Life

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Routledge, Warne, & Routledge, 1861 - 403 стор.

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Сторінка 328 - Fear not, thou worm Jacob, and ye men of Israel; I will help thee, saith the Lord, and thy redeemer, the Holy One of Israel.
Сторінка 377 - Oh no, live for something. Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storm of time can never destroy. Write your name in kindness, love, and mercy, on the hearts of thousands you come in contact with year by year, and you will never be forgotten. No, your name, your deeds, will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind, as the stars on the brow of evening. Good deeds will shine as brightly on the earth as the stars of heaven.
Сторінка 225 - I still continued to press him to make all the despatch he possibly could. At the bottom of the stairs I met my dear Evans, into whose hands I confided him. I had before engaged Mr. Mills to be in readiness before the Tower to conduct him to some place of safety, in case we succeeded.
Сторінка 225 - My dear Mrs. Betty, for the love of God run quickly and bring her with you. You know my lodging, and, if ever you made despatch in your life, do it at present. I am almost distracted with this disappointment.
Сторінка 248 - ... impressed with the belief that they were fairies, who, according to Highland tradition, are visible to men only from one twinkle of the eye-lid to another, she strove to refrain from the vibration, which she believed would occasion the strange and magnificent apparition to become invisible. To Lord Lovat it brought a certainty more dreadful than the presence of fairies, or even demons.
Сторінка 212 - All the time they were there, there was not a week my mother did not sit up two nights, to do the business that was necessary. She went to market, went to the mill to have their corn ground, which it seems is the way with good managers there, dressed the linen, cleaned the house, made ready the dinner, mended the children's stockings and other clothes, made what she could for them, and in short did every thing.
Сторінка 47 - The wind rose high — but with it rose Her voice, that he might hear ; Perchance that dark hour brought repose To happy bosoms near ; While she sat striving with despair Beside his tortured form, And pouring her deep soul in prayer Forth on the rushing storm. She wiped the death-damps from his brow, With her pale hands and soft, Whose touch upon the lute-chords low, Had still'd his heart so oft.
Сторінка 222 - I lodged, and acquainted her with my design of attempting my lord's escape, as there was no prospect of his being pardoned ; and this was the last night before the execution.
Сторінка 211 - My mother sent for the minister next day, and, upon pretence of a mad dog, got him to hang all his dogs. There was also difficulty of getting victuals to carry him, without the servants suspecting. The only way it was done was by stealing it off her plate at dinner, into her lap. Many a diverting story she has told about this and other things of the like nature.
Сторінка 352 - In the full occupation of dress-making, I had care with it, and anxiety for the future ; but as that disappeared, care fled also. God, who had called me into the vineyard, had said, " Whatsoever is right I will give you." I had learned from the Scriptures of truth that I should be supported ; God was my Master, and would not forsake his servant : he was my Father, and could not forget his child. I knew also that...

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