text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"And as our Words must be the Product of our Judgment, so they must be temperate and decent, mixed with Curtesie and Civility; for he that hath calmed his Passions, hath nothing to betray them to rash and rude Language, which is a Foam cast up only by the Billows of a turbulent Mind, and can never be the Issues of a serene composed Temper; neither does any thing Charm us more than gracious Language, Quae ne illos quidem quos damnat offendit; a pregnant Example of which was seen in the last Age, at the Tryal of the Earl of Strafford, Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, in the Year 1642. where, amongst others that were appointed by the House of Commons to Manage their Impeachment against him, there was one eminent Lawyer, who urged very smartly against his Lordship, but yet with great Respect and Civility of Language; And when the Earl came to Reply, as he did to every one, he said he had been very roughly handled by most of the Pleaders; but that he was very much beholding to one civil Gentleman amongst them, (naming the former Person) who, tho' he had touched him nearer the Quick than any other, yet he was obliged to return him Thanks, because he had cut his Throat with a clean Knife: Thus we see good Words are afforded at the same Price as ill, and are not only cheap, but prevalent upon all Occasions.
(pp. 23-24)",2013-09-22 20:42:34 UTC,"""And as our Words must be the Product of our Judgment, so they must be temperate and decent, mixed with Curtesie and Civility; for he that hath calmed his Passions, hath nothing to betray them to rash and rude Language, which is a Foam cast up only by the Billows of a turbulent Mind, and can never be the Issues of a serene composed Temper.""",2013-09-22 20:42:34 UTC,Essay I,"",,"","",Searching in ECCO-TCP,22812,7686
"Then, Death, so call'd, is but old Matter dress'd
In some new Figure, and a vary'd Vest:
Thus all Things are but alter'd, nothing dies;
And here and there th' unbodied Spirit flies,
By Time, or Force, or Sickness dispossest,
And lodges, where it lights, in Man or Beast;
Or hunts without, till ready Limbs it find,
And actuates those according to their kind;
From Tenement to Tenement is toss'd;
The Soul is still the same, the Figure only lost:
And, as the soften'd Wax new Seals receives,
This Face assumes, and that Impression leaves;
Now call'd by one, now by another Name;
The Form is only chang'd, the Wax is still the same:
So Death, so call'd, can but the Form deface,
Th' immortal Soul flies out in empty space;
To seek her Fortune in some other Place.
(p. 512, cf. p. 821 in OUP)",2014-05-26 20:18:09 UTC,"""Thus all Things are but alter'd, nothing dies; / And here and there th' unbodied Spirit flies, / By Time, or Force, or Sickness dispossess, / And lodges, where it lights, in Man or Beast; / Or hunts without, till ready Limbs it find, / And actuates those according to their kind; / From Tenement to Tenement is toss'd; / The Soul is still the same, the Figure only lost.""",2014-05-26 20:18:09 UTC,"","",,Rooms,"",Reading,23860,7163