work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5112,Reverie,"Searching ""predominant passion"" in HDIS",2004-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"In the mean time Sir Launcelot, having ordered supper, retired into his own chamber, and gave a loose to the most tender emotions of his heart. He recollected all the fond ideas which had been excited in the course of his correspondence with the charming Aurelia. He remembered, with horror, the cruel letter he had received from that young lady, containing a formal renunciation of his attachment, so unsuitable to the whole tenour of her character and conduct. He revolved the late adventure of the coach, and the declaration of Mr. Clarke, with equal eagerness and astonishment; and was seized with the most ardent desire of unravelling a mystery so interesting to the predominant passion of his heart. --All these mingled considerations produced a kind of ferment in the oeconomy of his mind, which subsided into a profound reverie, compounded of hope and perplexity.
(II. xiii)",,13810,•I've included twice: once in Uncategorized: Economy and once in Liquid: Ferment.
,"""Mingled considerations"" may produce a ""ferment in the oeconomy"" of the mind","",2009-09-14 19:39:16 UTC,""
5319,"",Searching in HDIS (Prose),2012-06-29 20:41:53 UTC,"[...] It was the nature of Fika-kaka to be impatient and impetuous. Perceiving that none of his Bonzes had any communication with the devil, and that many of them doubted whether there was any such personage as the devil, he began to have some doubts about his own soul: ""For if there is no devil (said he), there is no soul to be damned; and it would be a reproach to the justice of heaven to suppose that all souls are to be saved, considering what rascally stuff mankind are made of."" This was an inference which gave him great disturbance; for he was one of those who would rather encounter eternal damnation, than run any risque of being annihilated. He therefore assembled all those among the Bonzes who had the reputation of being great philosophers and metaphysicians, in order to hear their opinions concerning the nature of the soul. The first reverend sage who delivered himself on this mysterious subject, having stroked his grey beard, and hemmed thrice with great solemnity, declared that the soul was an animal; a second pronounced it to be the number three, or proportion; a third contended for the number seven, or harmony; a fourth defined the soul the universe; a fifth affirmed it was a mixture of elements; a sixth asserted it was composed of fire; a seventh opined it was formed of water; an eighth called it an essence; a ninth, an idea; a tenth stickled for substance without extension; an eleventh, for extension without substance; a twelfth cried it was an accident; a thirteenth called it a reflecting mirrour; a fourteenth, the image reflected; a fifteenth insisted upon its being a tune; a sixteenth believed it was the instrument that played the tune; a seventeenth undertook to prove it was material; an eighteenth exclaimed it was immaterial; a nineteenth allowed it was something; and a twentieth swore it was nothing.--By this time all the individuals that composed this learned assembly, spoke together with equal eagerness and vociferation. The volubility with which a great number of abstruse and unintelligible terms and definitions were pronounced and repeated, not only resembled the confusion of Babel, but they had just the same effect upon the brain of Fika-kaka, as is generally produced in weak heads by looking stedfastly at a mill-wheel or a vortex, or any other object in continual rotation. He grew giddy, ran three times round, and dropped down in the midst of the Bonzes, deprived of sense and motion. When he recovered so far as to be able to reflect upon what had happened, he was greatly disturbed with the terror of annihilation, as he had heard nothing said in the consultation which could give him any reason to believe there was such a thing as an immortal soul. In this emergency he sent for his counsellor Mura-clami, and when that lawyer entered his chamber, exclaimed, ""My dear Mura, as I have a soul to be saved!--A soul to be saved!--ay, there's the rub!--the devil a soul have I!--Those Bonzes are good for nothing but to kiss my a---se;---a parcel of ignorant asses! --Pox on their philosophy! Instead of demonstrating the immortality of the soul, they have plainly proved the soul is a chimæra, a will o' the wisp, a bubble, a term, a word, a nothing!--My dear Mura! prove but that I have a soul, and I shall be contented to be damned to all eternity!""--""If that be the case, (said the other) your Quambucuship may set your heart at rest: for, if you proceed to govern this empire, in conjunction with Taycho, as you have begun, it will become a point of eternal justice to give you an immortal soul (if you have not one already) that you may undergo eternal punishment, according to your demerits."" The Cuboy was much comforted by this assurance, and returned to his former occupations with redoubled ardour. He continued to confer benefices on his back-friends the Bonzes; to regulate the whole army of tax-gatherers; to bribe the tribunes, the centurions, the decuriones, and all the inferior mob-drivers of the empire; to hire those pipers who were best skilled in making the multitude dance, and find out the ablest artists to scratch their long ears, and tickle their noses. These toils were sweetened by a variety of enjoyments. He possessed all the pomp of ostentation; the vanity of levees, the pride of power, the pleasure of adulation, the happiness of being kicked by his sovereign and kissed by his Bonzes; and, above all, the delights of the stomach and the close-stool, which recurred in perpetual succession, and which he seemed to enjoy with a particular relish: for, it must be observed, to the honour of Fika-kaka, that what he eagerly received at one end, he as liberally refunded at the other. But as the faculties of his mind were insufficient to digest the great mess of power which had fallen to his share, so were the organs of his body unable to concoct the enormous mass of aliments which he so greedily swallowed. He laboured under an indigestion of both; and the vague promises which went upwards, as well as the murmurs that passed the other way, were no other than eruptive crudities arising from the defects of his soul and body.
(pp. 206-12)",,19822,"Crazy collection of metaphors here, and farther along in this passage. Could be useful for demonstrating diversity of metaphorics? REVISIT. RICH PASSAGE. META-METAPHORICAL. INTEREST.","""The first reverend sage who delivered himself on this mysterious subject, having stroked his grey beard, and hemmed thrice with great solemnity, declared that the soul was an animal; a second pronounced it to be the number three, or proportion; a third contended for the number seven, or harmony; a fourth defined the soul the universe; a fifth affirmed it was a mixture of elements; a sixth asserted it was composed of fire; a seventh opined it was formed of water; an eighth called it an essence; a ninth, an idea; a tenth stickled for substance without extension; an eleventh, for extension without substance; a twelfth cried it was an accident; a thirteenth called it a reflecting mirrour; a fourteenth, the image reflected; a fifteenth insisted upon its being a tune; a sixteenth believed it was the instrument that played the tune; a seventeenth undertook to prove it was material; an eighteenth exclaimed it was immaterial; a nineteenth allowed it was something; and a twentieth swore it was nothing.""",Beast and Optics,2012-06-29 20:46:03 UTC,""
7593,"",Searching in ECCO-TCP,2013-08-16 18:26:49 UTC,"It is without Doubt, that Fancy and Imagination form a world of Apparitions in the Minds of Men and Women; (for we must not exclude the Ladies in this Part, whatever we do) and People go away as thoroughly possess'd with the Reality of having seen the Devil, as if they convers'd Face to Face with him; when in short the Matter is no more than a Vapour of the Brain, a sick delirious fume of Smoke in the Hypochondria; forming it self in such and such Figure to the Eye-sight of the Mind, as well as of the Head, which all look'd upon with a calm Revision, would appear, as it really is, nothing but a Nothing, a Skeleton of the Brain, a Whymsy, and no more.
(p. 390)",,22233,"INTEREST: a common phrase ""a skeleton of the brain""? ","""It is without Doubt, that Fancy and Imagination form a world of Apparitions in the Minds of Men and Women; (for we must not exclude the Ladies in this Part, whatever we do) and People go away as thoroughly possess'd with the Reality of having seen the Devil, as if they convers'd Face to Face with him; when in short the Matter is no more than a Vapour of the Brain, a sick delirious fume of Smoke in the Hypochondria; forming it self in such and such Figure to the Eye-sight of the Mind, as well as of the Head, which all look'd upon with a calm Revision, would appear, as it really is, nothing but a Nothing, a Skeleton of the Brain, a Whymsy, and no more.""","",2013-08-16 18:26:49 UTC,Chapter XV
7682,"",Reading,2013-09-18 14:37:46 UTC,"Wit, like a hasty Flood, may over-run us,
And too much Sense has oftentimes undone us:
Wit is a Flux, a Looseness of the Brain,
And Sense-abstract has too much Pride to reign:
Wit-unconcoct is the Extream of Sloth,
And too much Sense is the Extream of both;
Abstracted-Wit 'Tis own'd is a Disease,
But Sense-abstracted has no Power to please:
For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense,
And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense:
Meer Sense is sullen; stiff, and unpolite,
Meer Wit is Apoplectick, thin, and light:
Wit is a King without a Parliament,
And Sense a Democratick Government:
Wit, like the French, wher'e'er it reigns destroys,
And Sense advant'd is apt to Tyrannize:
Wit without Sense is like the Laughing-Evil,
And Sense unmix'd with Fancy is the D---l.
Wit is a Standing-Army Government,
And Sense a sullen stubborn P---t:
Wit by its haste anticipates its Fate,
And so does Sense by being obstinate:
Wit without Sense in Verse is all but Farce,
Sense without Wit in Verse is all mine A---.
Wit, like the French, performs before it thinks,
And thoughtful Sense without Performance sinks;
Sense without Wit is Flegmatick and pale,
And is all Head, forsooth, without a Tail:
Wit without Sense is Cholerick and Red,
Has Tail enough indeed, but has no Head.
Wit, like the jangling Chimes, rings all in one,
Till Sense, the Artist, sets them into Tune:
Wit, like the Belly, if it be not fed,
Will starve the Members, and distract the Head.
Wit is the Fruitful Womb where Thoughts conceive,
Sense is the Vital Heat which Life and Form must give:
Wit is the Teeming Mother brings them forth,
Sense is the Active Father gives them Worth.
United: Wit and Sense, makes Science thrive,
Divided: neither Wit nor Sense can live;
For while the Parties eagerly contend,
The Mortal Strife must in their mutual Ruin end.
(pp. 165-7, ll. 353-394)",,22794,"FIXING TYPO in C-H Lion: ""rarisy'd""","""For Sense, like Water, is but Wit condense, / And Wit, like Air, is rarify'd from Sense.""","",2013-09-18 14:40:28 UTC,""
4501,"",Reading,2014-10-05 16:09:56 UTC,"P.
Each Mortal has his Pleasure: None deny
Sc--le his Bottle, D--ty his Ham-Pye;
Ridotta sips and dances, till she see
The doubling Lustres dance as well as she;
-- loves the Senate, Hockley-Hole his Brother,
Like in all else, as one Egg to another.
I love to pour out all myself, as plain
As downright Shippen, or as old Montagne.
In them, as certain to be lov'd as seen,
The Soul stood forth, nor kept a Thought within;
In me what Spots (for Spots I have) appear,
Will prove at least the Medium must be clear.
In this impartial Glass, my Muse intends
Fair to expose myself, my Foes, my Friends;
Publish the present Age, but where my Text
Is Vice too high, reserve it for the next:
My Foes shall wish my Life a longer date,
And ev'ry Friend the less lament my Fate.
My Head and Heart thus flowing thro' my Quill,
Verse-man or Prose-man, term me which you will,
Papist or Protestant, or both between,
Like good Erasmus in an honest Mean,
In Moderation placing all my Glory,
While Tories call me Whig, and Whigs a Tory.
Satire's my Weapon, but I'm too discreet
To run a Muck, and tilt at all I meet;
I only wear it in a Land of Hectors,
Thieves, Supercargoes, Sharpers, and Directors.
Save but our Army! and let Jove incrust
Swords, Pikes, and Guns, with everlasting Rust!
Peace is my dear Delight--not Fleury's more:
But touch me, and no Minister so sore.
Who-e'er offends, at some unlucky Time
Slides into Verse, and hitches in a Rhyme,
Sacred to Ridicule! his whole Life long,
And the sad Burthen of some merry Song.
Slander or Poyson, dread from Delia's Rage,
Hard Words or Hanging, if your J--ge be--
From furious Sappho yet a sadder Fate,
P--x'd by her Love, or libell'd by her Hate:
Its proper Pow'r to hurt, each Creature feels,
Bulls aim their horns, and Asses lift their heels,
'Tis a Bear's Talent not to kick, but hug,
And no man wonders he's not stung by Pug:
So drink with W--t--rs, or with Ch--t--rs eat,
They'll never poison you, they'll only cheat.
Then learned Sir! (to cut the Matter short)
What-e'er my Fate, or well or ill at Court,
Whether old Age, with faint, but chearful Ray,
Attends to gild the Evening of my Day,
Or Death's black Wing already be display'd
To wrap me in the Universal Shade;
Whether the darken'd Room to muse invite,
Or whiten'd Wall provoke the Skew'r to write,
In Durance, Exile, Bedlam, or the Mint,
Like Lee or B--ll, I will Rhyme and Print.
(pp. 10-15)",,24460,"","""I love to pour out all myself, as plain / As downright Shippen, or as old Montagne. / In them, as certain to be lov'd as seen, / The Soul stood forth, nor kept a Thought within; / In me what Spots (for Spots I have) appear, / Will prove at least the Medium must be clear.""","",2014-10-05 16:10:13 UTC,""
8209,"","Reading Patricia Meyer Spacks, An Argument of Images: The Poetry of Alexander Pope (Cambridge: Harvard UP, 1971), 4.",2017-03-09 04:34:56 UTC,"The best way to prove the clearness of our mind, is by shewing its Faults; as when a Stream discovers the Dirt at the bottom, it convinceth us of the transparency and purity of the Water.
(4)",,25043,"","""The best way to prove the clearness of our mind, is by shewing its Faults; as when a Stream discovers the Dirt at the bottom, it convinceth us of the transparency and purity of the Water.""","",2017-03-09 04:34:56 UTC,""