As you cannot make a speech, you must, said Henrietta, put it into a treatise.
As you cannot make a speech, you must,
put it into a treatise.
I had always a ready fancy and some of the natural vanity of youth, so I could see myself landing off the lugger at the quay of Inneraora town, three inches more of a man than when I left with a firkin of herring and a few bolls of meal for my winter's provand; thicker too at the chest, and with a jacket of London green cloth with brass buttons.
So the Lord's omnipresence as well as the omnipresence of the Self of the soul is rather an internal omnipresence, a subjective omnipresence, […]
She […] hath ſtiled him with an immortall penne, the bawewawe of ſchollars, the tutt of gentlemen, the tee-heegh of gentlewomen, the phy of citizens, the blurt of Courtiers, the poogh of good letters, the faph of good manners, and the whoop-hooe of good boyes in London ſtreetes.
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