Word: rev
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Dates: during 1920-1929
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...mother of Mr. Baldwin was one of the daughters of the late Rev. George B. MacDonald-not related to ex-Premier MacDonald...
...days all Berlin had been talking of nothing else but the entry of General feldmarschall Paul von Hindenburg, President-elect, into the capital. The Monarchists prepared to give him a royal welcome, not omitting renditions of Fredericus Rev, a martial Monarchial anthem (later forbidden). Republicans boycotted the proceeding. Communists threatened to stage counterdemonstrations (later forbidden). Finally, der Tag arrived. Chancellor Hans Luther, with his 10-year-old daughter, motored from the Chancellery to the railway station. Hundreds of thousands of people, mostly Monarchists, lined the streets. All Berlin, or so it seemed, was draped in the old Imperial colors...
...with intellectual dishonesty for not so doing. Their current literature and speeches express the wonder that men whose minds are open to Science can remain in the old creedal denominations. Celebration. But it was not the motes in their brothers' eyes which inspired the opening sermon delivered by Rev. Paul revere Frothingham Boldly he analyzed: "We want a divine inheritance and a spiritual birthright. To be willing to exchange it for a mess of scientific pottage indicates and Esan-like yearning for the wilderness of doubt. . . . "The Unitarian doctrine has effectively softened and finally transformed the stern theology...
Slightly more pleasant than Mr. Tasker, though not really so different psychologically, was his vicar, the Rev. Hector Turnbull. Days at the vicarage, all identical, were punctuated by the Rev. Hector's heavy and regular meals, heavy and regular tread, heavy and regular sermons, tooth troubles and grumblings over money. Occasionally, the Rev. Hector noticed the second maid's ankle. Occasionally, he went away to a dentist. That ankles and teeth were connected in the life of a churchman with so proud a bearing as the Rev. Hector's, none would have guessed; and when the Rev. Hector fell heavily...
Henry Turnbull, the Rev. Hector's youngest, was thin, docile, an idiot to his family and the village. He ran errands, dug in the garden and walked, when not in demand, to South Egdon, for respite from mankind's puzzling beastliness. This he found in his only friend, Henry Neville, the South Egdon curate, a sickly ascetic who was hated by his flock because he did not bully them into religion as a proper curate should. Instead he forgave them their malice, an effrontery that he aggravated when he robbed them of the pleasure of stoning him to death...