The Annual Register, Or, A View of the History, Politics, and Literature for the Year ..., Volume 9

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J. Dodsley, 1793 - History

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Page 199 - People may say this and that of being in jail ; but, for my part, I found Newgate as agreeable a place as ever I was in in all my life.
Page 201 - ... a privateer, I should have been entitled to clothing and maintenance during the rest of my life; but that was not my chance: one man is born with a silver spoon in his mouth, and another with a wooden ladle. However, blessed be God! I enjoy good health, and will for ever love liberty and Old England. Liberty, property, and Old England, for ever, huzza!
Page 195 - His praise, ye Winds, that from four quarters blow, Breathe soft or loud ; and, wave your tops, ye Pines, With every plant, in sign of worship wave.
Page 199 - I fell upon my knees, begged his worship's pardon, and began to give a full account of all that I knew of my breed, seed, and generation ; but, though I gave a very true account, the justice said I could give no account; so I was indicted...
Page 243 - But let a maid thy pity share, Whom love has taught to stray ; Who seeks for rest, but finds despair Companion of her way.
Page 198 - ... he who, in the vale of obscurity, can brave adversity, who, without friends to encourage, acquaintances to pity, or even without hope to alleviate his misfortunes, can behave with tranquillity and indifference, is truly great : whether peasant or courtier, he deserves admiration, and should be held up for our imitation and respect.
Page 200 - From thence nine of us ran together to the quay, and seizing the first boat we met, got out of the harbour, and put to sea. We had not been here three days before we were taken up by the Dorset privateer, who were glad of so many good hands, and we consented to run our chance.
Page 200 - Our crew was carried into Brest, and many of them died because they were not used to live in a jail ; but for my part, it was nothing to me, for I was seasoned. One night...
Page 318 - At five of the clock on the morning of the 4th of Fehruary, 1742-3, died Rhaam Chund Pundit of the Mahahrattor tribe* aged twenty-eight years; his widow (for he had but one...
Page 242 - Around, in sympathetic mirth, Its tricks the kitten tries; The cricket chirrups in the hearth, The crackling faggot flies. But nothing could a charm impart To soothe the stranger's woe; For grief was heavy at his heart, And tears began to flow. His rising cares the Hermit spied, With answering care opprest : " And whence, unhappy youth," he cried, " The sorrows of thy breast ? " From better habitations spurn'd, Reluctant dost thou rove?

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