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Posts Tagged ‘London England’

“I preach what I felt and what I smartingly did feel;

even under that which my poor soul did groan and tremble to astonishment.”

            – John Bunyan             

 

John Bunyan died this date 8/31/1688 at London, England.  He was born at Elstow (near Bedford) in November of 1628.  He married in 1648 but she (uncertain of name) died.  He later (1655) married Elizabeth.  Bunyan was the father of six children.

 

As is well known, he was imprisoned several times between 1660 – 1672.  His jail time became his writing time, and though moderns can be sorry England jailed him, we can be glad he used his time to write such great material.

 

Bunyan penned Some Gospel Truths Opened (1656), Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners (1666), Pilgrim’s Progress (1678), and Holy War (1682).  His classic (a true term here, if ever it is true) Pilgrim’s Progress has had an unknown number of printings.  It is said to be been early translated into 70 languages!  No book, except the Bible, was more widely read in its day.

 

Have you READER, read Pilgrim’s Progress?  If you have not, you are not fully educated, though you hold a Ph.D.

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O Zion, haste, thy mission high fulfilling,
To tell to all the world that God is light,
That He who made all nations is not willing
One soul should perish, lost in shades of night.

Refrain: Publish glad tidings, tidings of peace;
             Tidings of Jesus, redemption and release.

2. Behold how many thousands still are lying
Bound in the darksome prison house of sin,
With none to tell them of the Savior’s dying,
Or of the life He died for them to win.

3. Proclaim to every people, tongue, and nation
That God, in Whom they live and move, is love;
Tell how He stooped to save His lost creation,
And died on earth that we might live above.

4. ’Tis thine to save from peril of perdition
The souls for whom the Lord His life laid down:
Beware lest, slothful to fulfill thy mission,
Thou lose one jewel that should deck His crown.

5. Give of thy sons to bear the message glorious;
Give of thy wealth to speed them on their way;
Pour out thy soul for them in prayer victorious;
O Zion, haste to bring the brighter day.

6. He comes again! O Zion, ere thou meet Him,
Make known to every heart His saving grace:
Let none whom he Hath ransomed fail to greet Him,
Through thy neglect, unfit to see His face.

Mary Ann Faulkner Thomson, died this date 3/11/1923, Philadelphia, PA.  She was born 12/5/1834, London, England.  In 1861 she married John Thomson (later 1st librarian of the Philadelphia Free Library) and they emigrated in 1881 to Philadelphia.

She is said to have said, “I wrote the greater part of the hymn, ‘O, Sion, Haste,’ [a.k.a.”O Zion, Haste, Thy Mission High Fulfilling”] in the year 1868. I had written many hymns before, and one night, while I was sitting up with one of my children who was ill with typhoid fever, I thought I should like to write a missionary hymn to the tune of the hymn, ‘Hark, Hark, My Soul, Angelic Songs Are Swelling,’ as I was fond of that tune, but as I could not then get a refrain I liked, I left the hymn unfinished and about three years I finished it by writing the refrain which now forms a part of it.”

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Come, ye thankful people, come, raise the song of harvest home;
All is safely gathered in, ere the winter storms begin.
God our Maker doth provide for our wants to be supplied;
Come to God’s own temple, come, raise the song of harvest home.

 

All the world is God’s own field, fruit unto His praise to yield;
Wheat and tares together sown unto joy or sorrow grown.
First the blade and then the ear, then the full corn shall appear;
Lord of harvest, grant that we wholesome grain and pure may be.

 

For the Lord our God shall come, and shall take His harvest home;
From His field shall in that day all offenses purge away,
Giving angels charge at last in the fire the tares to cast;
But the fruitful ears to store in His garner evermore.

 

Even so, Lord, quickly come, bring Thy final harvest home;
Gather Thou Thy people in, free from sorrow, free from sin,
There, forever purified, in Thy garner to abide;
Come, with all Thine angels come, raise the glorious harvest home.

 

Henry Alford was born this date 10/7/1810, at Blooms­bu­ry, Mid­dle­sex, London, England He wrote “Come Ye Thankful People,” 1844

For his own ep­i­taph, he wrote: “The inn of a pil­grim tra­vel­ing to Je­ru­sa­lem.”

 

At age sixteen Alford penned in his Bi­ble “I do this day in the pre­sence of God and my own soul re­new my cov­e­nant with God and sol­emn­ly de­ter­mine hence­forth to be­come his and to do his work as far as in me lies.”

 

Alford at­tend­ed Il­min­ster Gram­mar School and Trin­i­ty Coll­ege, Cam­bridge.  For twenty years he worked on The New Testament in Greek.  He died 1/12/1871 at Can­ter­bu­ry, Kent, Eng­land.

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““[I suppose the reason] we all jumped at the Origin [Origin of Species] was because the idea of God interfered with our sexual mores.””

                        (From internet, ThinkExist, other source not given)

Operationally, God is beginning to resemble not a ruler but the last fading smile of a cosmic Cheshire cat.

                        (From internet, ThinkExist, other source not given)

Evolution…is the most powerful and the most comprehensive idea that has ever arisen on Earth.  — Sir Julian Huxley

                – ‘Education and Humanism’, in Essays of a Humanist (1964), 125.

To speculate without facts is to attempt to enter a house of which one has not the key, by wandering aimlessly round and round, searching the walls and now and then peeping through the windows. Facts are the key. — Sir Julian Huxley

– ‘Heredity I: The Behaviour of the Chromosomes’, in Essays in Popular Science (1926), 1-2.

Huxley is quoted here to expose his true, carnal nature.  The last quote above seems typical of souls who are trying convincing themselves that black is white and down is up.

Julian Huxley, Sir, born 6/22/1887 at London.  He was a biologist/philosopher and dubbed “Darwin’s Bulldog.”

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I have a Savior, He died for me
In cruel anguish on Calv’ry’s tree.
I do not merit such love divine,
Only God’s mercy makes Jesus mine.

Refrain

Jesus, my Savior, I come to Thee
In full surrender Thine own to be.

I have a Keeper, He now prevails,
I fear no evil whate’er assails.
His arms enfold me, safe and secure,
In His blest keeping vict’ry is sure.

I have a Master, He bids me go
Rescue lost sinners from sin and woe.
I love to serve Him, this Master true,
Now I am willing His will to do.

Robert Harkness died this date, 5/8/1961, at London, England.

He was born 3/2/1880, at Bendigo, Victoria, Australia.

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George Smith was born this date 3/26/1840, at London. After spending part of his life as a banknote engraver he became increasingly interested in Oriental languages.  His several expeditions to the site of ancient Ninevah and his studies qualify him to be called an Assyriologist.  During his first two trips (1873, 1874) he unearthed over 3,000 cuneiform tablets.  The most interesting of which included portions of the ancient Deluge – what Bible readers know as Noah’s Flood.  His skill at deciphering writings led to his co-authoring with Sir Henry Rawlinson’s the third volume of Cuneiform Inscriptions.

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