work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
4100,"",Searching in Past Masters ,2005-05-03 00:00:00 UTC,"I fansy I pretty well guess what it is that some Men find mischievous in your Essay: 'Tis opening the Eyes of the Ignorant, and rectifying the Methods of Reasoning, which perhaps may undermine some received Errors, and so abridge the Empire of Darkness; wherein, though the Subject wander deplorably, yet the Rulers have their Profit and Advantage. But 'tis ridiculous in any Man to say, in general, your Book is dangerous: Let any fair Contender for Truth sit down and shew wherein 'tis erroneous. Dangerous is a Word of an uncertain Signification, every one uses it in his own Sense. A Papist shall say 'tis dangerous, because, perhaps, it agrees not so well with Transubstantiation; and a Lutheran, because his Consubstantiation is in hazard; but neither confider, whether Transubstantiation or Consubstantiation be true or false, but taking it for granted that they are true, or at least gainful, whatever hits not with it, or is against it, must be dangerous.
(p. 146; cf. Past Masters, VIII, p. 402)",,10553,•Pastmasters draws from 1823 12th edition of the Works of John Locke (vol. 8). Locke: FLBF Vol 8 Fm: Molyneux [96-7] p 402
,"""I fansy I pretty well guess what it is that some Men find mischievous in your 'Essay': 'Tis opening the Eyes of the Ignorant, and rectifying the Methods of Reasoning, which perhaps may undermine some received Errors, and so abridge the Empire of Darkness; wherein, though the Subject wander deplorably, yet the Rulers have their Profit and Advantage.""",Empire,2013-10-13 16:13:09 UTC,""
7388,"",Reading,2013-05-07 21:07:04 UTC,"In England we cannot work so hard as Frenchmen. Frequent relaxation is necessary to us. You are naturally more intense in your application. I did not know this part of your national character, until I went into France in 1773. At present, this your disposition to labour is rather increased than lessened. In your Assembly you do not allow yourselves a recess even on Sundays. We have two days in the week, besides the festivals; and besides five or six months of the summer and autumn. This continued, unremitted effort of the members of your Assembly, I take to be one among the causes of the mischief they have done. They who always labour can have no true judgment. You never give yourselves time to cool. You can never survey, from its proper point of sight, the work you have finished, before you decree its final execution. You can never plan the future by the past. You never go into the country, soberly and dispassionately to observe the effect of your measures on their objects. You cannot feel distinctly how far the people are rendered better and improved, or more miserable and depraved, by what you have done. You cannot see with your own eyes the sufferings and afflictions you cause. You know them but at a distance, on the statements of those who always flatter the reigning power, and who, amidst their representations of the grievances, inflame your minds against those who are oppressed. These are amongst the effects of unremitted labour, when men exhaust their attention, burn out their candles, and are left in the dark.--Malo meorum negligentiam, quam istorum obscuram diligentiam.
(pp. 72-4)",,20166,"","""You know them but at a distance, on the statements of those who always flatter the reigning power, and who, amidst their representations of the grievances, inflame your minds against those who are oppressed. These are amongst the effects of unremitted labour, when men exhaust their attention, burn out their candles, and are left in the dark.""","",2013-05-07 21:07:04 UTC,""
5452,"","Searching ""heart"" in PGDP",2013-06-21 19:48:27 UTC,"MY DEAR FRIEND: 'Avoir du monde' is, in my opinion, a very just and happy expression for having address, manners, and for knowing how to behave properly in all companies; and it implies very truly that a man who hath not those accomplishments is not of the world. Without them, the best parts are inefficient, civility is absurd, and freedom offensive. A learned parson, rusting in his cell, at Oxford or Cambridge, will reason admirably well upon the nature of man; will profoundly analyze the head, the heart, the reason, the will, the passions, the senses, the sentiments, and all those subdivisions of we know not what; and yet, unfortunately, he knows nothing of man, for he hath not lived with him; and is ignorant of all the various modes, habits, prejudices, and tastes, that always influence and often determine him. He views man as he does colors in Sir Isaac Newton's prism, where only the capital ones are seen; but an experienced dyer knows all their various shades and gradations, together with the result of their several mixtures. Few men are of one plain, decided color; most are mixed, shaded, and blended; and vary as much, from different situations, as changeable silks do form different lights. The man 'qui a du monde' knows all this from his own experience and observation: the conceited, cloistered philosopher knows nothing of it from his own theory; his practice is absurd and improper, and he acts as awkwardly as a man would dance, who had never seen others dance, nor learned of a dancing-master; but who had only studied the notes by which dances are now pricked down as well as tunes. Observe and imitate, then, the address, the arts, and the manners of those 'qui ont du monde': see by what methods they first make, and afterward improve impressions in their favor. Those impressions are much oftener owing to little causes than to intrinsic merit; which is less volatile, and hath not so sudden an effect. Strong minds have undoubtedly an ascendant over weak ones, as Galigai Marachale d'Ancre very justly observed, when, to the disgrace and reproach of those times, she was executed for having governed Mary of Medicis by the arts of witchcraft and magic. But then ascendant is to be gained by degrees, and by those arts only which experience and the knowledge of the world teaches; for few are mean enough to be bullied, though most are weak enough to be bubbled. I have often seen people of superior, governed by people of much inferior parts, without knowing or even suspecting that they were so governed. This can only happen when those people of inferior parts have more worldly dexterity and experience, than those they govern. They see the weak and unguarded part, and apply to it they take it, and all the rest follows. Would you gain either men or women, and every man of sense desires to gain both, 'il faut du monde'. You have had more opportunities than ever any man had, at your age, of acquiring 'ce monde'. You have been in the best companies of most countries, at an age when others have hardly been in any company at all. You are master of all those languages, which John Trott seldom speaks at all, and never well; consequently you need be a stranger nowhere. This is the way, and the only way, of having 'du monde', but if you have it not, and have still any coarse rusticity about you, may not one apply to you the 'rusticus expectat' of Horace?
(III.ccxlv, LONDON, April 30, O. S. 1752.)",,21120,INTEREST. USE IN ENTRY,"""A learned parson, rusting in his cell, at Oxford or Cambridge, will reason admirably well upon the nature of man; will profoundly analyze the head, the heart, the reason, the will, the passions, the senses, the sentiments, and all those subdivisions of we know not what; and yet, unfortunately, he knows nothing of man, for he hath not lived with him; and is ignorant of all the various modes, habits, prejudices, and tastes, that always influence and often determine him. He views man as he does colors in Sir Isaac Newton's prism, where only the capital ones are seen; but an experienced dyer knows all their various shades and gradations, together with the result of their several mixtures. Few men are of one plain, decided color; most are mixed, shaded, and blended; and vary as much, from different situations, as changeable silks do form different lights.""",Optics,2013-06-21 19:48:27 UTC,""
4103,"",Reading,2013-07-09 19:28:06 UTC,"The Question is, Whether this be fair or no? and, Whether it be not just and reasonable, to make as free with our own Opinions, as with those of other People? For to be sparing in this case, may be look'd upon as a piece of Selfishness. We may be charg'd perhaps with wilful Ignorance and blind Idolatry, for having taken Opinions upon Trust, and consecrated in our-selves certain Idol-Notion, which we will never suffer to be unveil'd, or seen in open light. They may perhaps be Monsters, and not Divinitys, or Sacred Truths, which are kept thus choicely, in some dark Corner of our Minds: The Specters may impose on us, whilst we refuse to turn 'em every way, and view their Shapes and Complexions in every light. For that which can be shewn only in a certain Light, is questionable. Truth, 'tis suppos'd, may bear all Lights: and one of those principal Lights or natural Mediums, by which Things are to be view'd, in order to a thorow Recognition, is Ridicule it-self, or that Manner of Proof by which we discern whatever is liable to just Raillery in any Subject. So much, at least, is allow'd by All, who at any time appeal to this Criterion. The gravest Gentlemen, even in the gravest Subjects, are suppos'd to acknowledg this: and can have no Right, 'tis thought, to deny others the Freedom of this Appeal; whilst they are free to censure like other Men, and in their gravest Arguments make no scruple to ask, Is it not ridiculous?
(pp. 60-1; pp. 29-30 in Klein)",,21584,"","""They may perhaps be Monsters, and not Divinitys, or Sacred Truths, which are kept thus choicely, in some dark Corner of our Minds: The Specters may impose on us, whilst we refuse to turn 'em every way, and view their Shapes and Complexions in every light.""",Rooms,2013-07-09 19:28:06 UTC,""
7541,"",Reading,2013-07-11 21:31:02 UTC,"Now by my grandame's beard--I will not thank you for your present--although my ears have been stunned with your goodness and kindness----the best young man!----and, good Lord! how shall we make him amends? &c. &c.----Phaw! simpleton, quoth I, do you not plainly ken, that he himself has a satisfaction in giving pleasure to his friends which more than repays him?--so I strove to turn off the notion of obligation--though I must confess, my heart at the same time felt a something, sure it was not envy--no, I detest it--I fear it was pride--for I feel within myself this moment, that could I turn the tables in repaying principal with treble interest----I should feel gratified--though perhaps not satisfied.--I have a long account to balance with you--about your comments upon the transcript;--you are a pretty fellow to dare put in your claim--to better sense--deeper thinking--and stronger reasoning than my wife self----to tell you the truth (tho' at my own expence) I read your letter the first time with some little chagrin;--your reasoning, tho' it hurt my pride--yet almost convinced my understanding.--I read it carefully a second time--pondered--weighed--and submitted--whenever a spark of vanity seems to be glowing at my heart--I will read your letter--and what then?--Why then humbled by a proper sense of my inferiority--I shall still have cause for pride----triumph----and comfort----when I reflect that my valued Confort--is the true friend of his sincerely affectionate
(I.xxxviii, pp. 104-5; pp. 77-8 in Carretta)",,21678,"","""I read it carefully a second time--pondered--weighed--and submitted--whenever a spark of vanity seems to be glowing at my heart--I will read your letter--and what then?""","",2013-07-11 21:31:02 UTC,"Vol. I, letter xxxviii"
7541,"",Reading; text from DocSouth,2013-07-11 21:39:16 UTC,"THERE is something so amazingly grand--so stupendously affecting--in the contemplating the works of the Divine Architect, either in the moral, or the intellectual world, that I think one may rightly call it the cordial of the soul--it is the physic of the mind-- and the best antidote against weak pride--and the supercilious murmurings of discontent.--Smoaking my morning pipe, the friendly warmth of that glorious planet the sun--the leniency of the air--the chearful glow of the atmosphere--made me involuntarily cry, ""Lord, ""what is man, that thou in thy mercy ""art so mindful of him! or what the son ""of man, that thou so parentally carest ""for him!"" David, whose heart and affections were naturally of the first kind (and who indeed had experienced blessings without number) pours fourth the grateful sentiments of his enraptured soul in the sweetest modulations of pathetic oratory;--the tender mercies of the Almighty are not less to many of his creatures--but their hearts--unlike the royal disposition of the shepherd King, are cold, and untouched with the sweet ray of gratitude.--Let us, without meanly sheltering our infirmities under the example of others--perhaps worse taught--or possessed of less leisure for self-examination--let us, my dear M----, look into ourselves--and by a critical examination of the past events of our lives, fairly confess what mercies we have received--what God in his goodness hath done for us--and how our gratitude and praise have kept pace in imitation of the son of Jesse.--Such a research would richly pay us--for the end would be conviction--so much on the side of miraculous mercy--such an unanswerable proof of the superintendency of Divine Providence, as would effectually cure us of rash despondency--and melt our hearts--with devotional aspirations--till we poured forth the effusions of our souls in praise and thanksgiving.--When I sometimes endeavour to turn my thoughts inwards, to review the power or properties the indulgent all-wise Father has endow'd me with, I am struck with wonder and with awe--worm, poor insignificant reptile as I am, with regard to superior beings--mortal like myself.--Amongst, and at the very head of our riches, I reckon the power of reflection:--Where? where, my friend, doth it lie?--Search every member from the toe to the nose--all--all ready for action--but all dead to thought--it lies not in matter--nor in the blood--it is a party, which though we feel and acknowledge, quite past the power of definition--it is that breath of life which the Sacred Architect breathed into the nostrils of the first man--image of his gracious Maker--and let it animate our torpid gratitude--it rolls on, although diminished by our cruel fall, through the whole race--""We are fearfully and wonderfully made,"" &c. &c. were the sentiments of the Royal Preacher upon a self-review--but had he been blessed with the full blaze of the Christian dispensation--what would have been his raptures?--the promise of never, never-ending existence and felicity, to possess eternity--""glorious dreadful thought!""--to rise, perhaps, by regular progression from planet to planet--to behold the wonders of immensity--to pass from good to better--increasing in goodness--knowledge--love--to glory in our Redeemer--to joy in ourselves--to be acquainted with prophets, sages, heroes, and poets of old times--and join in symphony with angels.--And now, my friend, thou smilest at my futile notions--why preach to thee?--For this very good and simple reason, to get your thoughts in return.--You shall be my philosopher--my Mentor--my friend;--you, happily disengaged from various cares of life and family, can review the little world of man with steadier eye, and more composed thought, than your friend, declining fast into the vale of years, and beset with infirmity and pain.--Write now and then, as thought prompts, and inclination leads--refute my errors--where I am just give me your plaudit.--Your welfare in truly dear in my sight--and if any man has a share in my heart, or commands my respect and esteem, it is I---- M----.
(I.xliv, pp. 123-7; pp. 87-9)",,21683,"[fixing OCR error: ""all-wife,"" ""fight""]","""David, whose heart and affections were naturally of the first kind (and who indeed had experienced blessings without number) pours fourth the grateful sentiments of his enraptured soul in the sweetest modulations of pathetic oratory;--the tender mercies of the Almighty are not less to many of his creatures--but their hearts--unlike the royal disposition of the shepherd King, are cold, and untouched with the sweet ray of gratitude.""","",2013-07-11 21:39:35 UTC,"Vol. I, letter xliv"
7541,"",Reading; text from DocSouth,2013-07-11 21:40:44 UTC,"THERE is something so amazingly grand--so stupendously affecting--in the contemplating the works of the Divine Architect, either in the moral, or the intellectual world, that I think one may rightly call it the cordial of the soul--it is the physic of the mind-- and the best antidote against weak pride--and the supercilious murmurings of discontent.--Smoaking my morning pipe, the friendly warmth of that glorious planet the sun--the leniency of the air--the chearful glow of the atmosphere--made me involuntarily cry, ""Lord, ""what is man, that thou in thy mercy ""art so mindful of him! or what the son ""of man, that thou so parentally carest ""for him!"" David, whose heart and affections were naturally of the first kind (and who indeed had experienced blessings without number) pours fourth the grateful sentiments of his enraptured soul in the sweetest modulations of pathetic oratory;--the tender mercies of the Almighty are not less to many of his creatures--but their hearts--unlike the royal disposition of the shepherd King, are cold, and untouched with the sweet ray of gratitude.--Let us, without meanly sheltering our infirmities under the example of others--perhaps worse taught--or possessed of less leisure for self-examination--let us, my dear M----, look into ourselves--and by a critical examination of the past events of our lives, fairly confess what mercies we have received--what God in his goodness hath done for us--and how our gratitude and praise have kept pace in imitation of the son of Jesse.--Such a research would richly pay us--for the end would be conviction--so much on the side of miraculous mercy--such an unanswerable proof of the superintendency of Divine Providence, as would effectually cure us of rash despondency--and melt our hearts--with devotional aspirations--till we poured forth the effusions of our souls in praise and thanksgiving.--When I sometimes endeavour to turn my thoughts inwards, to review the power or properties the indulgent all-wise Father has endow'd me with, I am struck with wonder and with awe--worm, poor insignificant reptile as I am, with regard to superior beings--mortal like myself.--Amongst, and at the very head of our riches, I reckon the power of reflection:--Where? where, my friend, doth it lie?--Search every member from the toe to the nose--all--all ready for action--but all dead to thought--it lies not in matter--nor in the blood--it is a party, which though we feel and acknowledge, quite past the power of definition--it is that breath of life which the Sacred Architect breathed into the nostrils of the first man--image of his gracious Maker--and let it animate our torpid gratitude--it rolls on, although diminished by our cruel fall, through the whole race--""We are fearfully and wonderfully made,"" &c. &c. were the sentiments of the Royal Preacher upon a self-review--but had he been blessed with the full blaze of the Christian dispensation--what would have been his raptures?--the promise of never, never-ending existence and felicity, to possess eternity--""glorious dreadful thought!""--to rise, perhaps, by regular progression from planet to planet--to behold the wonders of immensity--to pass from good to better--increasing in goodness--knowledge--love--to glory in our Redeemer--to joy in ourselves--to be acquainted with prophets, sages, heroes, and poets of old times--and join in symphony with angels.--And now, my friend, thou smilest at my futile notions--why preach to thee?--For this very good and simple reason, to get your thoughts in return.--You shall be my philosopher--my Mentor--my friend;--you, happily disengaged from various cares of life and family, can review the little world of man with steadier eye, and more composed thought, than your friend, declining fast into the vale of years, and beset with infirmity and pain.--Write now and then, as thought prompts, and inclination leads--refute my errors--where I am just give me your plaudit.--Your welfare in truly dear in my sight--and if any man has a share in my heart, or commands my respect and esteem, it is I---- M----.
(I.xliv, pp. 123-7; pp. 87-9)
",,21684,"[fixing OCR error: ""all-wife,"" ""fight""]","""Such a research would richly pay us--for the end would be conviction--so much on the side of miraculous mercy--such an unanswerable proof of the superintendency of Divine Providence, as would effectually cure us of rash despondency--and melt our hearts--with devotional aspirations--till we poured forth the effusions of our souls in praise and thanksgiving.""","",2013-07-11 21:40:44 UTC,"Vol. I, letter xliv"
7707,"",Searching in Google Books,2013-10-13 16:20:40 UTC,"[...] I cannot complain that I have not my Share of Friends of all Ranks, and such, whose Interest, Assistance, Affection, and Opinions too, in fit Cases, I can rely on. But methinks, for all this, there is one Place vacant, that I know no body that would so well fill as your self: I want one near me to talk freely with, De quolibet Ente; to propose to, the Extravagances that rise in my Mind; one with whom I would debate several Doubts and Questions, to see what was in them. Meditating by one's self is like digging in the Mine; it often, perhaps, brings up maiden Earth, which never came near the Light before; but whether it contain any Metal in it, is never so well tried as in Conversation with a knowing judicious Friend, who carries about him the true Touch-stone, which is Love of Truth in a clear-thinking Head. Men of Parts and Judgment the World usually gets hold of, and by a great Mistake (that their Abilities of Mind are lost, if not employ'd in the Pursuit of Wealth or Power) engages them in the Ways of Fortune and Interest, which usually leave but little Freedom or Leisure of Thought for pure disinterested Truth. And such who give themselves up frankly, and in earnest, to the full Latitude of real Knowledge, are not every where to be met with. Wonder not, therefore, that I wish so much for you in my Neighbourhood; I should be too happy in a Friend of your Make, were you within my Reach. But yet I cannot but wish that some Business would once bring you within Distance; and 'tis a Pain to me to think of leaving the World, without the Happiness of seeing you.
(pp. 85-6)",,22961,INTEREST. USE IN ENTRY,"""Meditating by one's self is like digging in the Mine; it often, perhaps, brings up maiden Earth, which never came near the Light before; but whether it contain any Metal in it, is never so well tried as in Conversation with a knowing judicious Friend, who carries about him the true Touch-stone, which is Love of Truth in a clear-thinking Head.""",Metal,2013-10-13 16:20:40 UTC,""
7712,"",Searching in Google Books,2013-10-13 18:33:40 UTC,"I could wish the Physicians Art were so powerful and perfect, as in some measure to prevent so great an Evil; but we find where once Nature, or the Ĺ’conomia Animalis of the Body is so depraved as not to co-operate with Medicine, all Remedies, and the Courses of them, prove wholly ineffectual, or to very little Purpose. But still the more imperfect Physick is, so much the more is owing to those who the least improve so difficult a Province, which certainly has been, considerably advanced by some late English Authors. And that puts me in mind to desire of you your Thoughts, or what other learned Physicians you converse with say, concerning Dr. Morton, and his late Exercitations on Fevers. As for his General Theory of them, I esteem it, as all others of this kind, a sort of mere waking Dream, that Men are strangely apt to fall into, when they think long of a Subject, beginning quite at the wrong End; for by framing such Conceits in their Fancies, they vainly think to give their Understandings Light, whilst the Things themselves are still, and perhaps ever must remain, in Darkness.
(p. 221)",,22968,"","""As for his General Theory of them, I esteem it, as all others of this kind, a sort of mere waking Dream, that Men are strangely apt to fall into, when they think long of a Subject, beginning quite at the wrong End; for by framing such Conceits in their Fancies, they vainly think to give their Understandings Light, whilst the Things themselves are still, and perhaps ever must remain, in Darkness.""","",2013-10-13 18:33:40 UTC,""