work_id,theme,provenance,created_at,text,reviewed_on,id,comments,metaphor,dictionary,updated_at,context
5084,"","Searching ""soul"" and ""lamp"" in HDIS (Poetry); found again ""breast""",2006-01-19 00:00:00 UTC,"Dim burns the Lamp of Life; this Breast heaves slow;
My Soul shall soon the last sad Journey go.
Ill does the cutting Voice of Scorn prepare
This bleeding Breast that Weight of Woes to bear.
Oh that Omniscience would my Conduct try,
Or send some blest Vicegerent from on High!
If Flatt'ry on your House would Vengeance pour,
Shall this rude Railing bring the peaceful Hour?
No more disgrace the sacred Name of Friend,
But to these Laws of social Love attend:
Aid no proud Menace of insulting Foes,
Nor to Derision keen the Wretch expose.
The Good shall tremble at your mean Distrust,
When Heav'n's all-seeing Eye declares me Just.
From Strength to Strength the pure of Heart shall go,
But Shame shall sink the false Accusers low:
Low as the Son of Pain they now despise,
Expung'd and ras'd whose ev'ry Purpose lies;
Whose sublunary Hopes shall soon descend
To Dust, and with their mould'ring Subject end:
When Death, fell-frowning, looks him into Clay,
And kindred Reptiles riot on their Prey.""",,13678,"•William Langhorne? Must be misprint on title page? (Or is the mistake with C-H?) C-H's mistake, it seems. IN DNB the poem is attributed to John's brother William.","""Dim burns the Lamp of Life; this Breast heaves slow; / My Soul shall soon the last sad Journey go.""","",2009-09-14 19:38:57 UTC,Book III
5088,"",HDIS (Prose),2009-09-14 19:38:59 UTC,"Your greatness of mind in this action, which I admire, with that generous contempt of money which you shew me in the whole transaction, is really noble;-- and what renders it more so, is the principle of it;--the workings of a parent's love upon the truth and conviction of this very hypothesis, namely, That was your son called Judas,--the sordid and treacherous idea, so inseparable from the name, would have accompanied him thro' life like his shadow, and, in the end, made a miser and a rascal of him, in spight, Sir, of your example.
I never knew a man able to answer this argument. --But, indeed, to speak of my father as he was;--he was certainly irresistible, both in his orations and disputations;--he was born an orator;-- θεοδίδακτος. --Persuasion hung upon his lips, and the elements of Logick and Rhetorick were so blended up in him,-- and, withall, he had so shrewd guess at the weaknesses and passions of his respondent, --that Nature might have stood up and said,--""This man is eloquent."" In short, whether he was on the weak or the strong side of the question, 'twas hazardous in either case to attack him: --And yet, 'tis strange, he had never read Cicero nor Quintilian de Oratore, nor Isocrates, nor Aristotle, nor Longinus amongst the antients;--nor Vossius, nor Skioppius, nor Ramus, nor Farnaby amongst the moderns;--and what is more astonishing, he had never in his whole life the least light or spark of subtilty struck into his mind, by one single lecture upon Crackenthorp or Burgersdicius, or any Dutch logician or commentator;--he knew not so much as in what the difference of an argument ad ignorantiam, and an argument ad hominem consisted; so that I well remember, when he went up along with me to enter my name at Jesus College in ****,--it was a matter of just wonder with my worthy tutor, and two or three fellows of that learned society,--that a man who knew not so much as the names of his tools, should be able to work after that fashion with 'em.
To work with them in the best manner he could, was what my father was, however, perpetually forced upon;-- for he had a thousand little sceptical notions of the comick kind to defend,-- most of which notions, I verily believe, at first enter'd upon the footing of mere whims, and of a vive la Bagatelle ; and as such he would make merry with them for half an hour or so, and having sharpen'd his wit upon 'em, dismiss them till another day.
I mention this, not only as matter of hypothesis or conjecture upon the progress and establishment of my father's many odd opinions,--but as a warning to the learned reader against the indiscreet reception of such guests, who, after a free and undisturbed enterance, for some years, into our brains,--at length claim a kind of settlement there,--working sometimes like yeast;--but more generally after the manner of the gentle passion, beginning in jest,--but ending in downright earnest.
Whether this was the case of the singularity of my father's notions,--or that his judgment, at length, became the dupe of his wit;--or how far, in many of his notions, he might, tho' odd, be absolutely right;--the reader, as he comes at them, shall decide. All that I maintain here, is, that in this one, of the influence of Christian names, however it gain'd footing, he was serious;-- he was all uniformity;--he was systematical, and, like all systematick reasoners, he would move both heaven and earth, and twist and torture every thing in nature to support his hypothesis. In a word, I repeat it over again;--he was serious;--and, in consequence of it, he would lose all kind of patience whenever he saw people, especially of condition, who should have known better,--as careless and as indifferent about the name they imposed upon their child,--or more so, than in the choice of Ponto or Cupid for their puppy dog.
(pp. 118-123; Norton, 37-9)",2011-09-23,13690,Reviewed 2003-10-23,"""[A]nd what is more astonishing, he had never in his whole life the least light or spark of subtilty struck into his mind, by one single lecture upon Crackenthorp or Burgersdicius, or any Dutch logician or commentator.""","",2011-09-23 18:28:30 UTC,"Vol. 1, Chap. 19"
5088,Wit and Judgment,Searching in HDIS (Prose),2004-11-17 00:00:00 UTC,"That of these two luminaries, so much of their irradiations are suffered from time to time to shine down upon us; as he, whose infinite wisdom which dispenses every thing in exact weight and measure, knows will just serve to light us on our way in this night of our obscurity; so that your reverences and worships now find out, nor is it a moment longer in my power to conceal it from you, That the fervent wish in your behalf with which I set out, was no more than the first insinuating How d'ye of a caressing prefacer stifling his reader, as a lover sometimes does a coy mistress into silence. For alas! could this effusion of light have been as easily procured, as the exordium wished it--I tremble to think how many thousands for it, of benighted travellers (in the learned sciences at least) must have groped and blundered on in the dark, all the nights of their lives,--running their heads against posts, and knocking out their brains without ever getting to their journies end;--some falling with their noses perpendicularly into stinks,--others horizontally with their tails into kennels. Here one half of a learned profession tilting full butt against the other half of it, and then tumbling and rolling one over the other in the dirt like hogs. --Here the brethren, of another profession, who should have run in opposition to each other, flying on the contrary like a flock of wild geese, all in a row the same way.--What confusion!--what mistakes!--fiddlers and painters judging by their eyes and ears,--admirable!--trusting to the passions excited in an air sung, or a story painted to the heart,--instead of measuring them by a quadrant.
(pp. 96-8; Norton, 144)",,13712,•The metaphors of Light and Enlightenment are threaded throughout the passage (even though I do not include each as a new entry).,"Wit and judgment are two luminaries and ""their irradiations are suffered from time to time to shine down upon us.""","",2011-09-23 19:11:43 UTC,"Vol III, Chapter 20: The Author's Preface"
5088,Train of Ideas,Searching in HDIS (Prose),2005-09-12 00:00:00 UTC,"Now, whether we observe it or no, continued my father, in every sound man's head, there is a regular succession of ideas of one sort or other, which follow each other in train just like--A train of artillery? said my uncle Toby.--A train of a fiddle stick!--quoth my father,-- which follow and succeed one another in our minds at certain distances, just like the images in the inside of a lanthorn turned round by the heat of a candle.--I declare, quoth my uncle Toby, mine are like a smoak-jack. --Then, brother Toby, I have nothing more to say to you upon the subject, said my father.
(pp. 80-1; Norton, 139)",2008-10-07,13746,"","Ideas ""follow and succeed one another in our minds at certain distances, just like the images in the inside of a lanthorn turned round by the heat of a candle.""",Optics,2011-09-23 19:49:07 UTC,"Vol. 3, Chapter 18"
5101,"","Searching ""iron"" and ""heart"" in HDIS (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.",2005-06-07 00:00:00 UTC,"If to my choice indulgent Heav'n would give,
This life worn out, another life to life,
And say, 'Partake what form delights thee best,
'Be man again, again with reason blest;
'Assume the horse's strength, the sheep's warm coat,
'Bark in the dog, or wanton in the goat;
'For this is Fate's immutable decree,
'And one more being is reserv'd for thee:
To bounteous Heav'n I'd thus prefer my prayer;
'O let not Reason's lamp be lighted here!
'Make me not man; his only-partial race
'Holds vice in credit, virtue in disgrace.
'The steed victorious in the rapid course
'Eats food more dainty than the sluggish horse:
'Is there a dog, distinguish'd for his smell?
'No common dog will ever fare so well:
'The gallant cock that boasts heroic blood,
'Rakes not in dirty dunghills for his food;
'And should he strut among the feathered crew,
'Each conscious brother pays him honour due.
'Man, tho' of each accomplishment possest,
'Renown'd for valour, and with virtue blest,
'Gains from the heedless world no due regard,
'His worth no praise, his valour no reward:
'While fawning flatterers bask in Fortune's ray,
'Knaves that detract, and villains that betray.
''Tis better far thro' any form to pass,
'To crawl a reptile, or to drudge an ass,
'Than see base miscreants, Guilt's abandon'd crew,
'Enjoy those honours that are Virtue's due.'
(pp. 155-6)",,13783,"","""'O let not Reason's lamp be lighted here!""","",2014-03-09 14:54:18 UTC,Fragments of Menander
7501,"",C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.,2013-07-02 15:54:15 UTC,"Still shall unthinking man substantial deem
The forms that fleet through life's deceitful dream?
On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays,
Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?
Till at Death's touch the fairy visions fly,
And real scenes rush dismal on the eye;
And from Elysium's balmy slumber torn
The startled soul awakes, to think, and mourn.
(p. 49, ll. 1-8; cf. p. 40 in 1760 ed.)",,21415,"","""On clouds, where Fancy's beam amusive plays, / Shall heedless Hope the towering fabric raise?""","",2014-03-10 21:48:43 UTC,""
7501,"",C-H Lion,2013-07-02 15:57:25 UTC,"All cold the hand, that soothed Woe's weary head!
And quench'd the eye, the pitying tear that shed!
And mute the voice, whose pleasing accents stole,
Infusing balm, into the rankled soul!
O Death, why arm with cruelty thy power,
And spare the idle weed, yet lop the flower!
Why fly thy shafts in lawless error driven!
Is Virtue then no more the care of Heaven!---
But peace, bold thought! be still my bursting heart!
We, not Eliza, felt the fatal dart.
Scaped the dark dungeon does the slave complain,
Nor bless the hand that broke the galling chain?
Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn,
On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn?
Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow,
O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw?
Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye
O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high,
Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd,
And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.
O happy stroke, that bursts the bonds of clay,
Darts through the rending gloom the blaze of day,
And wings the soul with boundless flight to soar,
Where dangers threat, and fears alarm no more.
(p. 51, ll. 63-85)",,21417,"","""Say, pines not Virtue for the lingering morn, / On this dark wild condemn'd to roam forlorn? / Where Reason's meteor-rays, with sickly glow, / O'er the dun gloom a dreadful glimmering throw? / Disclosing dubious to th' affrighted eye / O'erwhelming mountains tottering from on high, / Black billowy seas in storm perpetual toss'd, / And weary ways in wildering labyrinths lost.""","",2013-07-02 16:00:04 UTC,""
7502,"",C-H Lion (Poetry); confirmed in ECCO.,2013-07-02 16:03:30 UTC,"I. 2.
Smit by thy rapture-beaming eye
Deep flashing through the midnight of their mind,
The sable bands combined,
Where Fear's black banner bloats the troubled sky,
Appall'd retire. Suspicion hides her head,
Nor dares th' obliquely gleaming eyeball raise;
Despair, with gorgon-figured veil o'erspread,
Speeds to dark Phlegethon's detested maze.
(p. 53, ll. 13-20; cf. p. 16 in 1760 ed.)",,21419,"","""Smit by thy rapture-beaming eye / Deep flashing through the midnight of their mind, / The sable bands combined, / Where Fear's black banner bloats the troubled sky, / Appall'd retire.""","",2014-03-11 02:29:46 UTC,""
7502,"",C-H Lion,2013-07-02 16:05:20 UTC,"II. 1.
When first on Childhood's eager gaze
Life's varied landscape, stretch'd immense around,
Starts out of night profound,
Thy voice incites to tempt th' untrodden maze.
Fond he surveys thy mild maternal face,
His bashful eye still kindling as he views,
And, while thy lenient arm supports his pace,
With beating heart the upland path pursues:
The path that leads, where, hung sublime,
And seen afar, youth's gallant trophies, bright
In Fancy's rainbow ray, invite
His wingy nerves to climb.
(pp. 54-5, ll. 42-53)",,21420,"","""Fond he surveys thy mild maternal face, / His bashful eye still kindling as he views, / And, while thy lenient arm supports his pace, / With beating heart the upland path pursues: / The path that leads, where, hung sublime, / And seen afar, youth's gallant trophies, bright / In Fancy's rainbow ray, invite / His wingy nerves to climb.""","",2013-07-02 16:05:20 UTC,""
7933,"",Reading,2014-06-19 16:45:34 UTC,"Let us suppose that the great empire of China, with all its myriads of inhabitants, was suddenly swallowed up by an earthquake, and let us consider how a man of humanity in Europe, who had no sort of connection with that part of the world, would be affected upon receiving intelligence of this dreadful calamity. He would, I imagine, first of all express very strongly his sorrow for the misfortune of that unhappy people, he would make many melancholy reflections upon the precariousness of human life, and the vanity of all the labours of man, which could thus be annihilated in a moment. He would, too, perhaps, if he was a man of speculation, enter into many reasonings concerning the effects which this disaster might produce upon the commerce of Europe, and the trade and business of the world in general. And when all this fine philosophy was over, when all these humane sentiments had been once fairly expressed, he would pursue his business or his pleasure, take his repose or his diversion, with the same ease and tranquillity as if no such accident had happened. The most frivolous disaster which could befall himself would occasion a more real disturbance. If he was to lose his little finger to morrow, he would not sleep to-night; but, provided he never saw them, he will snore with the most profound security over the ruin of a hundred millions of his brethren, and the destruction of that immense multitude seems plainly an object less interesting to him than this paltry misfortune of his own. To prevent, therefore, this paltry misfortune to himself, would a man of humanity be willing to sacrifice the lives of a hundred millions of his brethren, provided he had never seen them? Human nature startles with horror at the thought, and the world, in its greatest depravity and corruption, never produced such a villain as could be capable of entertaining it. But what makes this difference? when our passive feelings are almost always so sordid and so selfish, how comes it that our active principles should often be so generous and so noble? When we are always so much more deeply affected by whatever concerns ourselves than by whatever concerns other men; what is it which prompts the generous upon all occasions, and the mean upon many, to sacrifice their own interests to the greater interests of others? It is not the soft power of humanity, it is not that feeble spark of benevolence which Nature has lighted up in the human heart, that is thus capable of counteracting the strongest impluses of self-love. It is a stronger power, a more forcible motive, which exerts itself upon such occasions. It is reason, principle, conscience, the inhabitant of the breast, the man within, the great judge and arbiter of our conduct. It is he who, whenever we are about to act so as to affect the happiness of others, calls to us, with a voice capable of astonishing the most presumptuous of our passions, that we are but one of the multitude, in no respect better than any other in it; and that when we prefer ourselves so shamefully and so blindly to others, we become the proper objects of resentment, abhorrence, and execration. It is from him only that we learn the real littleness of ourselves, and of whatever relates to ourselves, and the natural misrepresentations of self-love can be corrected only by the eye of this impartial spectator. It is he who shews us the propriety of generosity and the deformity of injustice; the propriety of resigning the greatest interests of our own for the yet greater interests of others; and the deformity of doing the smallest injury to another in order to obtain the greatest benefit to ourselves. It is not the love of our neighbour, it is not the love of mankind, which upon many occasions prompts us to the practice of those divine virtues. It is a stronger love, a more powerful affection, which generally takes place upon such occasions; the love of what is honourable and noble, of the grandeur, and dignity, and superiority of our own characters.
(text from OLL; cf. Liberty Fund edition, pp. 136-7; cf. pp. 211-4 in 2nd ed.)",,24001,"","""It is not the soft power of humanity, it is not that feeble spark of benevolence which Nature has lighted up in the human heart, that is thus capable of counteracting the strongest impluses of self-love.""","",2014-06-19 16:45:34 UTC,""