text,updated_at,metaphor,created_at,context,theme,reviewed_on,dictionary,comments,provenance,id,work_id
"These Out-guards of the Mind are sent abroad,
And still patrolling beat the neighb'ring Road:
Or to the Parts remote obedient fly,
Keep Posts advanc'd, and on the Frontier lye.
The watchful Centinels at ev'ry Gate,
At ev'ry Passage to the Senses wait.
Still travel to and fro the Nervous way,
And their Impressions to the Brain convey,
Where their Report the Vital Envoys make,
And with new Orders are remanded back.
Quick, as a darted Beam of Light, they go,
Thro' diff'rent Paths to diff'rent Organs flow,
Whence they reflect as swiftly to the Brain,
To give it Pleasure, or to give it Pain.
(VI, ll. 670-683, pp. 305-6)",2013-08-07 14:40:42 UTC,"""These Out-guards of the Mind are sent abroad, / And still patrolling beat the neighb'ring Road: / Or to the Parts remote obedient fly, / Keep Posts advanc'd, and on the Frontier lye.""",2005-05-18 00:00:00 UTC,Book VI,"",,Empire and Inhabitants,INTEREST,Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10782,4167
"But other Spirits govern'd by the Will
Shoot thro' their Tracks, and distant Muscles fill.
This Sov'raign by his arbitrary Nod
Restrains, or sends his Ministers abroad.
Swift and obedient to his high Command,
They stir a Finger, or they lift a Hand;
They tune our Voices, or they move our Eyes;
By these we walk, or from the Ground arise:
By these we turn, by these the Body bend;
Contract a Limb at Pleasure, or extend.
And tho' these Spirits, which obsequious go,
Know not the Paths, thro' which they ready flow,
Nor can our Mind instruct them in their Way,
Of all their Roads as ignorant, as they;
Yet seldom erring they attain their End,
And reach that single Part, which we intend.
Unguided they a just Distinction make,
This Muscle swell, and leave the other slack.
And when their Force this Limb or that inflects,
Our Will the Measure of that Force directs,
The Spirits which distend them, as we please
Exert their Pow'r, or from their Duty cease.
(VI, ll. 648-669, pp. 304-5)",2013-08-07 14:52:52 UTC,"""But other Spirits govern'd by the Will / Shoot thro' their Tracks, and distant Muscles fill. / This Sov'raign by his arbitrary Nod / Restrains, or sends his Ministers abroad."" ",2005-05-18 00:00:00 UTC,Book VI,Animal Spirits,,Inhabitants,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10786,4167
"Where dwells this Sovereign Arbitrary Soul,
Which does the human Animal controul,
Inform each Part, and agitate the whole?
O'er Ministerial Senses does preside,
To all their various Provinces divide,
Each Member move, and ev'ry Motion guide.
Which by her secret uncontested Nod
Her Messengers the Spirits sends abroad,
Thro' ev'ry nervous Pass, and ev'ry vital Road.
To fetch from ev'ry distant Part a Train,
Of outward Objects to enrich the Brain.
Where sits this bright Intelligence enthron'd,
With numberless Ideas pour'd around?
Where Wisdom, Prudence, Contemplation stand,
And busie Fantoms watch her high Command:
Where Sciences and Arts in order wait,
And Truths Divine compose her Godlike State.
Can the dissecting Steel the Brain display,
And the august Apartment open lay,
Where this great Queen still chuses to reside
In Intellectual Pomp, and bright Ideal Pride?
Or can the Eye assisted by the Glass
Discern the strait, but hospitable Place,
In which ten thousand Images remain,
Without Confusion, and their Rank maintain?
(VII, ll. 303-327, pp. 329-30)",2013-08-07 15:10:03 UTC,"""O'er Ministerial Senses [the soul] does preside, / To all their various Provinces divide, / Each Member move, and ev'ry Motion guide.""",2005-06-13 00:00:00 UTC,Book VII,"",,Inhabitants,"",Searching in HDIS (Poetry),10791,4167
"Dreams which in Sleep their various Scenes display,
And mimick the Transactions of the Day,
Nor from th' Omniscient Pow'rs above descend,
Nor future Good presage, nor Ill portend,
Nor the conceal'd Decrees of Fate foreshow,
But from our waking Thoughts mechanically flow.
For Nature by fix'd Laws has wisely join'd
The bright Ideas of the conscious Mind
To Motions of the liquid spirit'ous Train,
Thro' previous Traces of the humid Brain;
These, when the Soul by drowsy Sleep oppress'd
Into her private Cell retires to Rest,
Thro' beaten Paths their wand'ring Courses take,
And Images confus'd of things awake.
(ll. 1-14)",2013-10-15 02:07:07 UTC,"""For Nature by fix'd Laws has wisely join'd / The bright Ideas of the conscious Mind / To Motions of the liquid spirit'ous Train, / Thro' previous Traces of the humid Brain; / These, when the Soul by drowsy Sleep oppress'd / Into her private Cell retires to Rest, / Thro' beaten Paths their wand'ring Courses take, / And Images confus'd of things awake.""",2005-08-17 00:00:00 UTC,Poems on Several Occasions. I've included the entire poem.,"",,Inhabitants and Rooms,INTEREST,"Searching ""soul"" and ""cell"" in HDIS (Poetry)",11457,4360
"Misom
Then you would have this variously disposing of the Images to be the work of the Spirits, that act under the Soul, as so many Labourers under some great Architect.
Phil.
I would so: And reflecting on what is transacted within us, it seems to me a very diverting Scene to think when we strive to recollect something that does not then occur; how nimbly those volatil Messengers of ours will beat through all the Paths, and hunt every Enclosure of the Organ set aside for thinking, in quest of the Images we want, and when we have forgot a Word or Sentence, which yet we are sure the great Treasury of Images received our Memory has once been charged with, we may almost feel how some of the Spirits flying through all the Mazes and Meanders rommage the whole substance of the Brain; whilst others ferret themselves into the inmost recesses of it with so much eagerness and labour, that the difficulty they meet with some times makes us uneasie, and they often bewilder themselves in their search, till at last they light by chance on the Image that contains what they look'd for, or else dragging it, as it were, by piece-meals from the dark Caverns of oblivion, represent what they can find of it to our Imagination.
(pp. 130-1)",2020-07-14 18:00:25 UTC,"""And reflecting on what is transacted within us, it seems to me a very diverting Scene to think when we strive to recollect something that does not then occur; how nimbly those volatil Messengers of ours will beat through all the Paths, and hunt every Enclosure of the Organ set aside for thinking, in quest of the Images we want, and when we have forgot a Word or Sentence, which yet we are sure the great Treasury of Images received our Memory has once been charged with, we may almost feel how some of the Spirits flying through all the Mazes and Meanders rommage the whole substance of the Brain; whilst others ferret themselves into the inmost recesses of it with so much eagerness and labour, that the difficulty they meet with some times makes us uneasie, and they often bewilder themselves in their search, till at last they light by chance on the Image that contains what they look'd for, or else dragging it, as it were, by piece-meals from the dark Caverns of oblivion, represent what they can find of it to our Imagination.""",2012-04-10 20:59:47 UTC,"",Animal Spirits,,Inhabitants,RICH PASSAGE. INTEREST. REVISIT.,"Reading. Encountered again in Jayne Lewis's ""Dialectic of Bewilderment,"" Eighteenth-Century Fiction 31, no. 3 (Spring 2019): 575–595, 575.",19677,4155
"FOSSILE.
Niece, why Niece, Niece! Oh, Melpomene, thou Goddess of Tragedy, suspend thy Influence for a Moment, and suffer my Niece to give me a rational Answer. This Lady is a Friend of mine; her present Circumstances oblige her to take Sanctuary in my House; treat her with the utmost Civility. Let the Tea-Table be made ready.
CLINKET.
Madam, excuse this Absence of Mind; my animal Spirits had deserted the Avenues of my Senses, and retired to the Recesses of the Brain, to contemplate a beautiful Idea. I could not force the vagrant Creatures back again into their Posts, to move those Parts of the Body that express Civility.
TOWNLEY.
A rare Affected Creature this! If I mistake not, Flattery will make her an useful Tool for my Purpose.
[Aside]
(I, p. 8 in Erie edition)",2012-06-29 21:13:02 UTC,"""Madam, excuse this Absence of Mind; my animal Spirits had deserted the Avenues of my Senses, and retired to the Recesses of the Brain, to contemplate a beautiful Idea. I could not force the vagrant Creatures back again into their Posts, to move those Parts of the Body that express Civility.""",2012-06-29 21:13:02 UTC,Act I,"",,"","",Searching in HDIS (Drama),19824,7274
"'Tis past conjecture; all things rise in proof:
While o'er my limbs Sleep's soft dominion spread,
What though my soul fantastic measures trod
O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom
Of pathless woods; or, down the craggy steep
Hurl'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool;
Or scaled the cliff; or danced on hollow winds,
With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain?
Her ceaseless flight, though devious, speaks her nature
Of subtler essence than the trodden clod;
Active, aërial, towering, unconfined,
Unfetter'd with her gross companion's fall.
E'en silent Night proclaims my soul immortal:
E'en silent Night proclaims eternal day.
For human weal, Heaven husbands all events;
Dull sleep instructs, nor sport vain dreams in vain.
(ll. 91-106, p. 39 in CUP edition)",2013-06-05 19:37:37 UTC,"""While o'er my limbs Sleep's soft dominion spread, / What though my soul fantastic measures trod / O'er fairy fields; or mourn'd along the gloom / Of pathless woods; or, down the craggy steep / Hurl'd headlong, swam with pain the mantled pool; / Or scaled the cliff; or danced on hollow winds, / With antic shapes, wild natives of the brain?""",2013-06-05 19:37:37 UTC,Night the First,"",,Inhabitants,"",Reading,20387,7399
"This indeed is but too certain; That as long as we enjoy a Mind; as long as we have Appetites and Sense, the Fancys of all kinds will be hard at work; and whether we are in company, or alone, they must range still, and be active. They must have their Field. The Question is, Whether they shall have it wholly to themselves; or whether they shall have some Controuler or Manager. If none; 'Tis this, I fear, that leads to Madness. 'Tis this, and nothing else, that can be call'd Madness or Loss of Reason. For if Fancy be left Judg of any thing, she must be Judg of all. Every thing is right, if any thing be so, because I fancy it. ""The House turns round. The Prospect turns. No, but my Head turns indeed: I have a Giddiness: that's all. Fancy wou'd persuade me thus and thus: but I know better."" 'Tis by means therefore of a Controuler and Corrector of Fancy, that I am sav'd from being mad. Otherwise, 'tis the House turns, when I am giddy. 'Tis things that charge (for so I must suppose) when my Passion merely, or Temper changes. ""But I was out of Order. I dreamt. Who tells me this? Who but the Correctrice, by whose means I am in my Wits, and without whom I am no longer my-self?""
(pp. 322-3; p. 144 in Klein)",2013-07-10 16:27:18 UTC,"""This indeed is but too certain; That as long as we enjoy a Mind; as long as we have Appetites and Sense, the Fancys of all kinds will be hard at work; and whether we are in company, or alone, they must range still, and be active. They must have their Field. The Question is, Whether they shall have it wholly to themselves; or whether they shall have some Controuler or Manager.""",2013-07-10 16:27:03 UTC,"",Self Command,,Inhabitants,"",Reading,21611,4136
"My simple System shall suppose,
That Alma enters at the Toes;
That then She mounts by just Degrees
Up to the Ancles, Legs, and Knees:
Next, as the Sap of Life does rise,
She lends her Vigor to the Thighs:
And, all these under-Regions past,
She nestles somewhere near the Waste:
Gives Pain or Pleasure, Grief or Laughter;
As We shall show at large hereafter.
Mature, if not improv'd, by Time
Up to the Heart She loves to climb:
From thence, compell'd by Craft and Age,
She makes the Head her latest Stage.",2013-07-22 14:46:41 UTC,"""My simple System shall suppose, / That Alma enters at the Toes; / That then She mounts by just Degrees / Up to the Ancles, Legs, and Knees: / Next, as the Sap of Life does rise, / She lends her Vigor to the Thighs: / And, all these under-Regions past,/ She nestles somewhere near the Waste.""",2013-07-22 14:46:41 UTC,"","",,Inhabitants,"",HDIS (Poetry),21971,4253
"Yet the silly wand'ring mind,
Loth to be too much confin'd,
Roves and takes her daily tours,
Coasting round the narrow shores,
Narrow shores of flesh and sense,
Picking shells and pebbles thence:
Or she sits at fancy's door,
Calling shapes and shadows to her,
Foreign visits still receiving,
And t'herself a stranger living.
Never, never would she buy
Indian dust, or Tyrian dye,
Never trade abroad for more,
If she saw her native store,
If her inward worth were known
She might ever live alone.
(p. 470, ll. 59-74)",2014-04-12 22:29:52 UTC,"""Yet the silly wand'ring mind, / Loth to be too much confin'd, / Roves and takes her daily tours, / Coasting round the narrow shores, / Narrow shores of flesh and sense, / Picking shells and pebbles thence: / Or she sits at fancy's door, / Calling shapes and shadows to her, / Foreign visits still receiving, / And t'herself a stranger living.""",2014-04-12 22:29:52 UTC,"",Stranger Within,,Inhabitants,"",Reading work in progress by Sarah Kareem.,23778,7864