work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
7440,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-14 19:57:20 UTC,"She had not of a long time enjoyed so peaceable a state of mind, and her health, which the tediousness of her confinement had a little altered, was now perfectly restored. So that she became fairer then ever; and in a little time, she gained over hearts an Empire far more noble than that which Elizabeth had deprived her of. The Conquest of the Duke of Alançon was too far advanced to remain imperfect; the young Prince, already half vanquish'd, could no longer resist so many charms: He at length became desperately in love with them, and his passion in a little time equalled that Beauty which had created it.
(pp. 137-8)",,20711,"","""So that she became fairer then ever; and in a little time, she gained over hearts an Empire far more noble than that which Elizabeth had deprived her of.""",Empire,2013-06-14 19:57:20 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-18 21:23:43 UTC,"If a Man has not power over his own Life, over what has he any?--Nay, 'Tis plain, and allow'd by all, that he gives this Power away, which he cou'd never do, if he never had it, when he enters into civil Society, or forms any Government and submits himself thereto--and grant but that, how can it be unjust to throw that away which is better lost than kept? Does any one think it cruel, inhumane or wicked to cut off a Leg or an Arm when 'tis Gangreen'd or Mortify'd, when 'tis painful or dangerous, or useless?--My Body is no better than the Legs, and Arms, or rather Crutches of my Soul--Why shou'd it be a Crime to throw those Crutches away and go alone, especially when they are troublesom or rotten? Can it be a Fault to chuse a better for a worse, and don't all the thinking World agree that this state we are now in, is but a Slavery to sence, a bondage to dull matter, which tedders us down like our Brother Brutes, where we are not only exposed to want and misery, but to all the Insults and Abuses possible to be inferr'd, and impossible to be avoided. Why then shou'd I not pull up the stake, or get my Lock and Chain off, and scamper away in the interminable Fields of the invisible World.--That Region of Spirits, Reason, Ease, and Rest--Cleombrotus, Empedocles--O how I envy you--who one rusht through the Fire, t'other through the Water to reach Immortality o' t'other side on't. Those were envious Fools who fault the Sicilian Philosopher for plunging into Ætna, pretending he only did it for vain Glory to be accounted a God--No--'twas not that he might be so accounted, but so be--at least as like one as possible--Impassible, immaterial, and wear out endless Durations as those above,
In undisturb'd and Everlasting Ease.
(I, pp. 136-7)",,20968,"","""Can it be a Fault to chuse a better for a worse, and don't all the thinking World agree that this state we are now in, is but a Slavery to sence, a bondage to dull matter, which tedders us down like our Brother Brutes, where we are not only exposed to want and misery, but to all the Insults and Abuses possible to be inferr'd, and impossible to be avoided.""",Fetters,2013-06-18 21:23:43 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-18 21:38:07 UTC,"In correcting a Servant, he never us'd to be a Slave to his own Passions, common Justice, Reason, Pity and Humanity, as well as the Chamberlain, hindring him from making new Indentures on the Flesh of his Apprentice, though he might happen in some light instances to break the old. And indeed how many good Servants are that way eternally ruin'd, and for ever unfitted to serve their Countrey after they get out of their time, or their Master before, as certainly Evander himself had been, had his Master gone to work with him as some wicked Wretches in this City have done with their Prentices, ripping up their Guts, beating out their Brains, or whipping 'em to Death, and so undoing 'em for ever. For this reason my good Master wou'd never strike me in the heighth of his Passion, lest my Brains should fly about my Ears, and the stroke rebound upon himself. But when he did find any Servant unlike me, and altogether incorrigible, so that he found it impossible to wash the Blackamore white, and whom he could never induce by Confession or Amendment to scowr out the Spots of his Soul, he'd e'ne fairly wash his hands of him, and turn him a grazing among his Fellow-Cattle.
(II, p. 37)",,20974,"","""In correcting a Servant, he never us'd to be a Slave to his own Passions, common Justice, Reason, Pity and Humanity, as well as the Chamberlain, hindring him from making new Indentures on the Flesh of his Apprentice, though he might happen in some light instances to break the old.""",Fetters,2013-06-18 21:38:07 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 01:39:18 UTC,"The Tongue is connexed by Veins to the Brain and Heart, by which Nature teacheth us, that it is to be govern'd by the Intellect, whose seat is in the head, so that it may agree with the Heart. Every honest Man will use both his Ears and his Heart, before he whets his Tongue: But some Readers (that shall be nameless here, for we design to firk 'em in our Twentieth Volume) have Souls good for little but to salt their Bodies, and exercise the Graces of others.
(III, p. 8)",,20987,"","""The Tongue is connexed by Veins to the Brain and Heart, by which Nature teacheth us, that it is to be govern'd by the Intellect, whose seat is in the head, so that it may agree with the Heart.""",Throne,2013-06-19 01:39:18 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:16:53 UTC,"In a danger, I do not, nor never did, so much consider how I shall escape it, as of how little importance it is whether I escape it or no. Should I be left dead upon the place, what matter? Not being able to govern Events, I endeavour to govern myself, (as knowing a Man never taken in Passion is a Mark of the sublimest reach of Wit, seeing thereby he puts himself above all vulgar Impressions. It is the greatest of Dominions to rule ones self and Passions. This is indeed the Triumph of Free-Will! Few Passions break my sleep; but of Deliberations, the least will do it. I love misfortunes that are purely so, that do not torment and teaze me with the incertainty of their growing better.
(III, p. 36)",,20998,"","""It is the greatest of Dominions to rule ones self and Passions.""","",2013-06-19 02:16:53 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:18:52 UTC,"Alas Sir, said he, as Fortune is not my Landlady, so I fear not her displeasure; and having Contentment (that Heaven of the other World and this) tho' I have nothing but a Crust to live on, I can feast upon it. He is the happy Man that can calmly wish and want, and so can I: I can sing, My mind to me a Kingdom is! I was never yet dejected under the most biting frowns of Poverty, except it was in my sleep, which has been often broke with laughing! The Plow and Dairy are the very mound of my Meditation; I expostulate with my Oxen very Understandingly, and speak Gee and Whoe better than English: my Mind is not much distracted with Objects, but if a good Cow come in my way, I stand dumb and astonisht, and though my haste be never so great, will fix here half an hour's contemplation: my Habitation is a poor thatch't Roof, distinguish't from my Barn by the loop-holes that let out the Smoak, which the Rain had long since wash't thorough but for the double Cieling of Bacon on the inside, which has hung there from my Grandsire's time, and is yet to make Rashers for Posterity: My Religion is part of my Copy-hold which I take from my Landlord, and refer it wholly to his Discretion: My Compliment with my Neighbour is usually a good thump on the Back, and my Salutation commonly some blunt Curse. As to my Feet, they never stink so unbecommingly as when I trot after a Lawyer in Westminster-hall, and even cleave the ground with hard scraping, in beseeching of his Worship to take his Money.
(III, pp. 41-2)",,20999,"","""He is the happy Man that can calmly wish and want, and so can I: I can sing, My mind to me a Kingdom is!""","",2013-06-19 02:18:52 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:21:35 UTC,"But should both Indies spread their Laps to me!
And court my Eyes to wish their Treasury,
My better Will they neither could intice,
Nor this with Gold, nor that with all her Spice:
For what poor things had these Possessions shown,
When all were mine, but I were not mine own?
Others in pompous Wealth their thoughts may please,
And I am rich in wishing none of these:
For Youth, which happiness wou'd you beg first,
Still to have Drink, or never to have Thirst?
No Servants on my beck attendant stand,
Yet are my Passions all at my command;
Reason within me shall sole Ruler be,
And every Sense shall wear her Livery:
Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have
More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave;
Yet I as well as they with more content,
Have in my self a Houshold-Government;
My Intellectual Soul hath there possest
The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest.
When I go forth, my Eyes two Ushers are,
And dutifully walk before me bare:
My Legs run Footman by me, go or stand;
My ready Arms wait close on either hand:
My Lips are Porters to the dangerous dore,
And either Ear a trusty Auditor:
And when abroad I go, Fancy shall be
My skilful Coachman, and shall hurry me
Through Heaven and Earth, and Neptune's watery Plain,
And in a moment drive me back again:
The Charge of all my Cellar, Thirst, is thine;
Thou Butler art, and Yeoman of my Wine:
Stomach the Cook, whose Dishes best delight,
Because their only Sauce is Appetite:
My other Cook Disgestion; where to me
Teeth Carve, and Pallate will the Taster be;
And the two Eye-lids when I go to sleep,
Like careful Grooms my silent Chamber keep;
Where lest a Cold oppress my vital part,
A gentle fire is kindled by the Heart;
And lest too great a heat procure my pain,
The Lungs fan Wind to cool those parts again.
Within the inner Closet of my Brain
Attend the nobler Members of my Train;
Invention, Master of my Mint, grows there,
And Memory, my faithful Treasurer.
And tho' in others 'tis a treacherous part,
My Tongue is SECRETARY to my Heart:
And then the PAGES of my Soul and Sence,
Love, Anger, Pleasure, Grief, Concupiscence,
And all Affections else are taught t'obey
Like Subjects, not like Favourites, to sway:
This is my MANNOR-HOUSE; Then Lad you see,
I live Great-Master of a Family.
My Wishes are but few, all easie to fulfill,
I make the Limit of my Power the Bounds unto my Will.
But should I leave or mind my Crook no more,
I might perchance get RICHES and be POOR.
Oh Humane Blindness! had you Eyes to see,
There is no Wealth to scorned Poverty!
(III, pp. 42-4)",,21000,"","""No Servants on my beck attendant stand, / Yet are my Passions all at my command; / Reason within me shall sole Ruler be, / And every Sense shall wear her Livery.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-19 02:32:29 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:35:18 UTC,"But should both Indies spread their Laps to me!
And court my Eyes to wish their Treasury,
My better Will they neither could intice,
Nor this with Gold, nor that with all her Spice:
For what poor things had these Possessions shown,
When all were mine, but I were not mine own?
Others in pompous Wealth their thoughts may please,
And I am rich in wishing none of these:
For Youth, which happiness wou'd you beg first,
Still to have Drink, or never to have Thirst?
No Servants on my beck attendant stand,
Yet are my Passions all at my command;
Reason within me shall sole Ruler be,
And every Sense shall wear her Livery:
Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have
More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave;
Yet I as well as they with more content,
Have in my self a Houshold-Government;
My Intellectual Soul hath there possest
The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest.
When I go forth, my Eyes two Ushers are,
And dutifully walk before me bare:
My Legs run Footman by me, go or stand;
My ready Arms wait close on either hand:
My Lips are Porters to the dangerous dore,
And either Ear a trusty Auditor:
And when abroad I go, Fancy shall be
My skilful Coachman, and shall hurry me
Through Heaven and Earth, and Neptune's watery Plain,
And in a moment drive me back again:
The Charge of all my Cellar, Thirst, is thine;
Thou Butler art, and Yeoman of my Wine:
Stomach the Cook, whose Dishes best delight,
Because their only Sauce is Appetite:
My other Cook Disgestion; where to me
Teeth Carve, and Pallate will the Taster be;
And the two Eye-lids when I go to sleep,
Like careful Grooms my silent Chamber keep;
Where lest a Cold oppress my vital part,
A gentle fire is kindled by the Heart;
And lest too great a heat procure my pain,
The Lungs fan Wind to cool those parts again.
Within the inner Closet of my Brain
Attend the nobler Members of my Train;
Invention, Master of my Mint, grows there,
And Memory, my faithful Treasurer.
And tho' in others 'tis a treacherous part,
My Tongue is SECRETARY to my Heart:
And then the PAGES of my Soul and Sence,
Love, Anger, Pleasure, Grief, Concupiscence,
And all Affections else are taught t'obey
Like Subjects, not like Favourites, to sway:
This is my MANNOR-HOUSE; Then Lad you see,
I live Great-Master of a Family.
My Wishes are but few, all easie to fulfill,
I make the Limit of my Power the Bounds unto my Will.
But should I leave or mind my Crook no more,
I might perchance get RICHES and be POOR.
Oh Humane Blindness! had you Eyes to see,
There is no Wealth to scorned Poverty!
(III, pp. 42-4)",,21001,"","""Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have / More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave; / Yet I as well as they with more content, / Have in my self a Houshold-Government; / My Intellectual Soul hath there possest / The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-19 02:38:46 UTC,""
7476,"",C-H Lion,2013-06-19 02:46:47 UTC,"But should both Indies spread their Laps to me!
And court my Eyes to wish their Treasury,
My better Will they neither could intice,
Nor this with Gold, nor that with all her Spice:
For what poor things had these Possessions shown,
When all were mine, but I were not mine own?
Others in pompous Wealth their thoughts may please,
And I am rich in wishing none of these:
For Youth, which happiness wou'd you beg first,
Still to have Drink, or never to have Thirst?
No Servants on my beck attendant stand,
Yet are my Passions all at my command;
Reason within me shall sole Ruler be,
And every Sense shall wear her Livery:
Lord of my self in Chief; when they that have
More Wealth, make that their Lord which is my Slave;
Yet I as well as they with more content,
Have in my self a Houshold-Government;
My Intellectual Soul hath there possest
The Steward's Place, to govern all the rest.
When I go forth, my Eyes two Ushers are,
And dutifully walk before me bare:
My Legs run Footman by me, go or stand;
My ready Arms wait close on either hand:
My Lips are Porters to the dangerous dore,
And either Ear a trusty Auditor:
And when abroad I go, Fancy shall be
My skilful Coachman, and shall hurry me
Through Heaven and Earth, and Neptune's watery Plain,
And in a moment drive me back again:
The Charge of all my Cellar, Thirst, is thine;
Thou Butler art, and Yeoman of my Wine:
Stomach the Cook, whose Dishes best delight,
Because their only Sauce is Appetite:
My other Cook Disgestion; where to me
Teeth Carve, and Pallate will the Taster be;
And the two Eye-lids when I go to sleep,
Like careful Grooms my silent Chamber keep;
Where lest a Cold oppress my vital part,
A gentle fire is kindled by the Heart;
And lest too great a heat procure my pain,
The Lungs fan Wind to cool those parts again.
Within the inner Closet of my Brain
Attend the nobler Members of my Train;
Invention, Master of my Mint, grows there,
And Memory, my faithful Treasurer.
And tho' in others 'tis a treacherous part,
My Tongue is SECRETARY to my Heart:
And then the PAGES of my Soul and Sence,
Love, Anger, Pleasure, Grief, Concupiscence,
And all Affections else are taught t'obey
Like Subjects, not like Favourites, to sway:
This is my MANNOR-HOUSE; Then Lad you see,
I live Great-Master of a Family.
My Wishes are but few, all easie to fulfill,
I make the Limit of my Power the Bounds unto my Will.
But should I leave or mind my Crook no more,
I might perchance get RICHES and be POOR.
Oh Humane Blindness! had you Eyes to see,
There is no Wealth to scorned Poverty!
(III, pp. 42-4)",,21006,"","""And then the PAGES of my Soul and Sence, / Love, Anger, Pleasure, Grief, Concupiscence, / And all Affections else are taught t'obey / Like Subjects, not like Favourites, to sway.""",Inhabitants,2013-06-19 02:46:47 UTC,""
3853,"",Reading,2014-08-28 03:16:10 UTC,"The next Day Miranda, finding no Advantage from her Messenger of Love, in the Evening sends another (impatient of Delay) confessing that she who suffer'd the Shame of Writing and Imploring, was the Person her self who ador'd him. 'Twas there her raging Love made her say all things that discover'd the nature of its Flame, and propose to slee with him to any part of the World, if he wou'd quit the Convent; that she had a Fortune considerable enough to make him happy, and that his Youth and Quality were not given him to so unprofitable an End as to lose themselves in a Convent, where Poverty and Ease was all their Business. In fine, she leaves nothing unurg'd that might debauch and invite him; not forgetting to send him her own Character of Beauty, and left him to judge of her Wit and Spirit by her Writing, and her Love by the Extremity of Passion she profess'd. To all which the lovely Friar made no Return, as believing a gentle Capitulation or Exhortation to her wou'd but inflame her the more, and give new Occasions for her continuing to write. All her Reasonings, false and vitious, he despis'd, pities the Error of her Love, and was Proof against all she cou'd plead. Yet notwithstanding his Silence, which left her in doubt, and more tormented her, she ceas'd not to pursue him with her Letters, varying her Style; sometimes all wanton, loose and raving; sometimes feigning a Virgin-Modesty all over, accusing her self, blaming her Conduct, and sighing her Destiny, as one compell'd to the shameful Discovery by the Austerity of his Vow and Habit, asking his Pity and Forgiveness; urging him in Charity to use his fatherly Care to perswade and reason with her wild Desires, and by his Counsel drive the God from her Heart, whose Tyranny was worse than that of a Fiend; and he did not know what his pious Advice might do. But still she writes in vain, in vain she varies her Style, by a Cunning, peculiar to a Maid possess'd with such a sort of Passion.
(pp. 39-41)",,24411,"","""Yet notwithstanding his Silence, which left her in doubt, and more tormented her, she ceas'd not to pursue him with her Letters, varying her Style; sometimes all wanton, loose and raving; sometimes feigning a Virgin-Modesty all over, accusing her self, blaming her Conduct, and sighing her Destiny, as one compell'd to the shameful Discovery by the Austerity of his Vow and Habit, asking his Pity and Forgiveness; urging him in Charity to use his fatherly Care to perswade and reason with her wild Desires, and by his Counsel drive the God from her Heart, whose Tyranny was worse than that of a Fiend; and he did not know what his pious Advice might do.""","",2014-08-28 03:16:10 UTC,""