Chapter III: Part 3

The rules that govern metaphors and allegories, are of two kinds: those of the first kind concern the construction of a metaphor or allegory, and ascertain what are perfect and what are faulty: those of the other kind concern the propriety or impropriety of introduction, in what circumstances these figures may be admitted, and in what circumstances they are out of place. I begin with rules of the first kind; some of which coincide with those already given with respect to similes; some are peculiar to metaphors and allegories.

And in the first place, it has been observed, that a simile cannot be agreeable where the resemblance is either too strong or too faint. This holds equally in a metaphor and allegory; and the reason is the same in all. In the following instances, the resemblance is too faint to be agreeable.

_Malcolm._---- But there’s no bottom, none,
In my voluptuousness: your wives, your daughters,
Your matrons, and your maids, could not fill up
The cistern of my lust.
_Macbeth, act 4. sc. 4._

The best way to judge of this metaphor, is to convert it into a simile; which would be bad, because there is scarce any resemblance betwixt lust and a cistern, or betwixt enormous lust and a large cistern.

Again,

He cannot buckle his distemper’d cause
Within the belt of rule.
_Macbeth, act 5. sc. 2._

There is no resemblance betwixt a distempered cause and any body that can be confined within a belt.

Again,

Steep me in poverty to the very lips.
_Othello, act 4. sc. 9._

Poverty here must be conceived a fluid, which it resembles not in any manner.

Speaking to Bolingbroke banish’d for six years.

The sullen passage of thy weary steps
Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home-return.
_Richard II. act 1. sc. 6._

Again,

Here is a letter, lady,
And every word in it a gaping wound
Issuing life-blood.
_Merchant of Venice, act 3. sc. 3._

The following metaphor is strained beyond all endurance. Timur-bec, known to us by the name of Tamarlane the Great, writes to Bajazet Emperor of the Ottomans in the following terms.

Where is the monarch who dares resist us? where is the potentate
who doth not glory in being numbered among our attendants? As for
thee, descended from a Turcoman sailor, since the vessel of thy
unbounded ambition hath been wreck’d in the gulf of thy self-love,
it would be proper, that thou shouldst take in the sails of thy
temerity, and cast the anchor of repentance in the port of
sincerity and justice, which is the port of safety; lest the
tempest of our vengeance make thee perish in the sea of the
punishment thou deservest.

Such strained figures, it is observable, are not unfrequent in the first dawn of refinement. The mind in a new enjoyment knows no bounds, and is generally carried to excess, till experience discover the just medium.

Secondly, whatever resemblance subjects may have, it is wrong to put one for another if they bear no mutual proportion. Where a very high and a very low subject are compared, the simile takes on an air of burlesk; and the same will be the effect, where the one is imagined to be the other, as in a metaphor, or made to represent the other, as in an allegory.

Thirdly, these figures, a metaphor in particular, ought not to be extended to a great length, nor be crowded with many minute circumstances; for in that case it is scarcely possible to avoid obscurity. It is difficult, during any course of time, to support a lively image of one thing being another. A metaphor drawn out to any length, instead of illustrating or enlivening the principal subject, becomes disagreeable by overstraining the mind. Cowley is extremely licentious in this way. Take the following instance:

Great, and wise conqu’ror, who where-e’er
Thou com’st, dost fortify, and settle there!
Who canst defend as well as get;
And never hadst one quarter beat up yet;
Now thou art in, thou ne’er will part
With one inch of my vanquish’d heart;
For since thou took’st it by assault from me, }
’Tis garrison’d so strong with thoughts of thee}
It fears no beauteous enemy. }

For the same reason, however agreeable at first long allegories may be by their novelty, they never afford any lasting pleasure: witness the _Fairy Queen_, which with great power of expression, variety of images, and melody of versification, is scarce ever read a second time.

In the fourth place, the comparison carried on in a simile, being in a metaphor sunk, and the principal subject being imagined that very thing which it only resembles, an opportunity is furnished to describe it in terms taken strictly or literally with respect to its imagined nature. This suggests another rule, That in constructing a metaphor, the writer ought to confine himself to the simplest expressions, and make use of such words only as are applicable literally to the imagined nature of his subject. Figurative words ought carefully to be avoided; for such complicated images, instead of setting the principal subject in a strong light, involve it in a cloud; and it is well if the reader, without rejecting by the lump, endeavour patiently to gather the plain meaning, regardless of the figures:

A stubborn and unconquerable flame
Creeps in his veins, and drinks the streams of life.
_Lady Jane Gray, act 1. sc. 1._

Copied from Ovid,

Sorbent avidæ præcordia flammæ.
_Metamorphoses, lib. ix. 172._

Let us analize this expression. That a fever may be imagined a flame, I admit; though more than one step is necessary to come at the resemblance. A fever, by heating the body, resembles fire; and it is no stretch to imagine a fever to be a fire.

Again, by a figure of speech, flame may be put for fire, because they are commonly conjoined; and therefore a fever may also be imagined a flame. But now admitting a fever to be a flame, its effects ought to be explained in words that agree literally to a flame. This rule is not observed here; for a flame _drinks_ figuratively only, not properly.

King Henry to his son Prince Henry:

Thou hid’st a thousand daggers in thy thoughts,
Which thou hast whetted on thy stony heart
To stab at half an hour of my frail life.
_Second Part Henry IV. act 4. sc. 11._

Such faulty metaphors are pleasantly ridiculed in the _Rehearsal_:

_Physician._ Sir, to conclude, the place you fill has more than
amply exacted the talents of a wary pilot; and all these
threatening storms, which, like impregnate clouds, hover o’er our
heads, will, when they once are grasp’d but by the eye of reason,
melt into fruitful showers of blessings on the people.

_Bayes._ Pray mark that allegory. Is not that good?

_Johnson_. Yes, that grasping of a storm with the eye, is
admirable.

_Act 2. sc. 1._

Fifthly, The jumbling different metaphors in the same sentence, or the beginning with one metaphor and ending with another, is commonly called a mixt metaphor. Quintilian bears testimony against it in the bitterest terms: “Nam id quoque in primis est custodiendum, ut quo ex genere cœperis translationis, hoc desinas. Multi enim, cum initium a tempestate sumpserunt, incendio aut ruina finiunt: quæ est inconsequentia rerum fœdissima.” _L. 8. cap. 6. § 2._

_K. Henry._---------- Will you again unknit
This churlish knot of all-abhorred war,
And move in that obedient orb again,
Where you did give a fair and natural light?
_First Part Henry IV. act 5. sc. 1._

Whether ’tis nobler in the mind, to suffer
The stings and arrows of outrag’ous fortune;
Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them.
_Hamlet, act 3. sc. 2._

In the sixth place, It is unpleasant to join different metaphors in the same period, even where they are preserved distinct. It is difficult to imagine the subject to be first one thing and then another in the same period without interval: the mind is distracted by the rapid transition; and when the imagination is put on such hard duty, its images are too faint to produce any good effect:

At regina gravi jamdudum saucia cura,
Vulnus alit venis, et cæco carpitur igni.
_Æneid. iv. 1._

------------------ Est mollis flamma medullas
Interea, et taciturn vivit sub pectore vulnus.
_Æneid. iv. 66._

Motum ex Metello consule civicum,
Bellique causas, et vitia, et modos,
Ludumque fortunæ, gravesque
Principum amicitias, et arma
Nondum expiatis uncta cruoribus,
Periculosæ plenum opus aleæ,
Tractas, et incedis per ignes
Subpositos cineri doloso.
_Horat. Carm. l. 2, ode 1._

In the last place, It is still worse to jumble together metaphorical and natural expression, or to construct a period so as that it must be understood partly metaphorically partly literally. The imagination cannot follow with sufficient ease changes so sudden and unprepared. A metaphor begun and not carried on, hath no beauty; and instead of light there is nothing but obscurity and confusion. Instances of such incorrect composition are without number. I shall, for a specimen, select a few from different authors:

Speaking of Britain,

This precious stone set in the sea
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house
Against the envy of less happier lands.
_Richard II. act 2. sc. 1._

In the first line Britain is figured to be a precious stone. In the following lines, Britain, divested of her metaphorical dress, is presented to the reader in her natural appearance.

These growing feathers pluck’d from Cæsar’s wing,
Will make him fly an ordinary pitch,
Who else would soar above the view of men,
And keep us all in servile fearfulness.
_Julius Cæsar, act 1. sc. 1._

Rebus angustis animosus atque
Fortis adpare: sapienter idem
Contrahes vento nimium secundo
Turgida vela.

The following is a miserable jumble of expressions, arising from an unsteady view of the subject betwixt its figurative and natural appearance.

But now from gath’ring clouds destruction pours,
Which ruins with mad rage our halcyon hours:
Mists from black jealousies the tempest form,
Whilst late divisions reinforce the storm.
_Dispensary, canto 3._

To thee, the world its present homage pays,
The harvest early, but mature the praise.
_Pope’s imitation of Horace, b. 2._

Oui, sa pudeur n’est que franche grimace,
Qu’une ombre de vertu qui garde mal la place,
Et qui s’evanouit, comme l’on peut savoir
Aux rayons du soleil qu’une bourse fait voir.
_Molliere, L’Etourdi, act 3. sc. 2._

Et son feu depourvû de sense et de lecture,
S’éteint a chaque pas, faute de nourriture.
_Boileau, L’art poetique, chant. 3. l. 319._

Dryden, in his dedication to the translation of _Juvenal_, says,

When thus, as I may say, before the use of the loadstone, or
knowledge of the compass, I was sailing in a vast ocean, without
other help than the pole-star of the ancients, and the rules of the
French stage among the moderns, _&c._

There is a time when factions, by the vehemence of their own
fermentation, stun and disable one another.

_Bolingbroke._

This fault of jumbling the figure and plain expression into one confused mass, is not less common in allegory than in metaphor. Take the following example.

------------ Heu! quoties fidem,
Mutatosque Deos flebit, et aspera
Nigris æquora ventis
Emirabitur insolens,
Qui nunc te fruitur credulus aureâ:
Qui semper vacuam, semper amabilem
Sperat, nescius auræ
Fallacis.
_Horat. Carm. l. 1. ode 5._

Lord Halifax, speaking of the ancient fabulists: “They (says he) wrote in signs and spoke in parables: all their fables carry a double meaning: the story is one and entire; the characters the same throughout; not broken or changed, and always conformable to the nature of the creature they introduce. They never tell you, that the dog which snapp’d at a shadow, lost his troop of horse; that would be unintelligible. This is his (Dryden’s) new way of telling a story, and confounding the moral and the fable together.” After instancing from the hind and panther, he goes on thus: “What relation has the hind to our Saviour? or what notion have we of a panther’s bible? If you say he means the church, how does the church feed on lawns, or range in the forest? Let it be always a church or always a cloven-footed beast, for we cannot bear his shifting the scene every line.”

A few words more upon allegory. Nothing gives greater pleasure than this figure, when the representative subject bears a strong analogy, in all its circumstances, to that which is represented. But the choice is seldom so lucky; the resemblance of the representative subject to the principal, being generally so faint and obscure, as to puzzle and not please. An allegory is still more difficult in painting than in poetry. The former can show no resemblance but what appears to the eye: the latter hath many other resources for showing the resemblance. With respect to what the Abbé du Bos[27] terms mixt allegorical compositions, these may do in poetry, because in writing the allegory can easily be distinguished from the historical part: no person mistakes Virgil’s Fame for a real being. But such a mixture in a picture is intolerable; because in a picture the objects must appear all of the same kind, wholly real or wholly emblematical. The history of Mary de Medicis, in the palace of Luxenbourg, painted by Rubens, is in a vicious taste, by a perpetual jumble of real and allegorical personages, which produce a discordance of parts and an obscurity upon the whole: witness in particular, the tablature representing the arrival of Mary de Medicis at Marseilles: mixt with the real personages, the Nereids and Tritons appear sounding their shells. Such a mixture of fiction and reality in the same group, is strangely absurd. The picture of Alexander and Roxana, described by Lucian, is gay and fanciful: but it suffers by the allegorical figures. It is not in the wit of man to invent an allegorical representation deviating farther from any appearance of resemblance, than one exhibited by Lewis XIV. _anno_ 1664; in which an overgrown chariot, intended to represent that of the sun, is dragg’d along, surrounded with men and women, representing the four ages of the world, the celestial signs, the seasons, the hours, _&c._: a monstrous composition; and yet scarce more absurd than Guido’s tablature of Aurora.

In an allegory, as well as in a metaphor, terms ought to be chosen that properly and literally are applicable to the representative subject. Nor ought any circumstance to be added, that is not proper to the representative subject, however justly it may be applicable figuratively to the principal. Upon this account the following allegory is faulty.

Ferus et Cupido,
Semper ardentes acuens sagittas
Cote _cruentâ_.
_Horat. l. 2. ode 8._

For though blood may suggest the cruelty of love, it is an improper or immaterial circumstance in the representative subject: water, not blood, is proper for a whetstone.

* * * * *

We proceed to the next head, which is, to examine in what circumstances these figures are proper, in what improper. This inquiry is not altogether superseded by what is said upon the same subject in the chapter of comparisons; because, upon trial, it will be found, that a short metaphor or allegory may be proper, where a simile, drawn out to a greater length, and in its nature more solemn, would scarce be relished. The difference however is not considerable; and in most instances the same rules are applicable to both. And, in the first place, a metaphor, as well as a simile, are excluded from common conversation, and from the description of ordinary incidents.

In the next place, in any severe passion which totally occupies the mind, metaphor is unnatural. For that reason, we must condemn the following speech of Macbeth.

Methought, I heard a voice cry, Sleep no more!
Macbeth doth murther sleep; the innocent sleep;
Sleep that knits up the ravell’d sleeve of Care,
The birth of each day’s life, sore Labour’s bath,
Balm of hurt minds, great Nature’s second course,
Chief nourisher in life’s feast.----
_Act 2. sc. 3._

The next example, of deep despair, beside the highly figurative style, hath more the air of raving than of sense:

_Calista._ Is it the voice of thunder, or my father?
Madness! Confusion! let the storm come on,
Let the tumultuous roar drive all upon me,
Dash my devoted bark; ye surges, break it;
’Tis for my ruin that the tempest rises.
When I am lost, sunk to the bottom low,
Peace shall return, and all be calm again.
_Fair Penitent, act 4._

The metaphor I next introduce, is sweet and lively, but it suits not the fiery temper of Chamont, inflamed with passion. Parables are not the language of wrath venting itself without restraint:

_Chamont._ You took her up a little tender flower,
Just sprouted on a bank, which the next frost
Had nip’d; and with a careful loving hand,
Transplanted her into your own fair garden,
Where the sun always shines: there long she flourish’d,
Grew sweet to sense and lovely to the eye,
Till at the last a cruel spoiler came,
Cropt this fair rose, and rifled all its sweetness,
Then cast it like a loathsome weed away.
_Orphan, act 4._

The following speech, full of imagery, is not natural in grief and dejection of mind.

_Gonsalez._ O my son! from the blind dotage
Of a father’s fondness these ills arose.
For thee I’ve been ambitious, base and bloody:
For thee I’ve plung’d into this sea of sin;
Stemming the tide with only one weak hand,
While t’other bore the crown, (to wreathe thy brow),
Whose weight has sunk me ere I reach’d the shore.
_Mourning Bride, act 5. sc. 6._

The finest picture that ever was drawn of deep distress, is in Macbeth[28], where Macduff is represented lamenting his wife and children, inhumanly murdered by the tyrant. Struck with the news, he questions the messenger over and over; not that he doubted the fact, but that his heart revolted against so cruel a misfortune. After struggling some time with his grief, he turns from his wife and children to their savage butcher; and then gives vent to his resentment; but still with manliness and dignity:

O, I could play the woman with mine eyes,
And braggart with my tongue. But, gentle Heav’n!
Cut short all intermission: front to front
Bring thou this fiend of Scotland and myself;
Within my sword’s length set him---- If he ’scape,
Then Heav’n forgive him too.

This passage is a delicious picture of human nature. One expression only seems doubtful. In examining the messenger, Macduff expresses himself thus:

He hath no children---- all my pretty ones!
Did you say all? what all? Oh, hell-kite! all?
What! all my pretty little chickens and their dam,
At one fell swoop!

Metaphorical expression, I am sensible, may sometimes be used with grace, where a regular simile would be intolerable: but there are situations so overwhelming, as not to admit even the slightest metaphor. It requires great delicacy of taste to determine with firmness, whether the present case be of that nature. I incline to think it is; and yet I would not willingly alter a single word of this admirable scene.

But metaphorical language is proper when a man struggles to bear with dignity or decency a misfortune however great. The struggle agitates and animates the mind:

_Wolsey._ Farewell, a long farewell, to all my greatness!
This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth
The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms,
And bears his blushing honours thick upon him;
The third day comes a frost, a killing frost,
And when he thinks, good easy man, full surely
His greatness is a ripening, nips his root,
And then he falls as I do.
_Henry VIII. act 3. sc. 6._

SECT. VII.

_Figure of Speech._

In the section immediately foregoing, a figure of speech is defined, “The employing a word in a sense different from what is proper to it;” and the new or uncommon sense of the word is termed _the figurative sense_. The figurative sense must have a relation to that which is proper; and the more intimate the relation is, the figure is the more happy. How ornamental this figure is to language, will not be readily imagined by any one who hath not given peculiar attention. I shall endeavour to display its capital beauties and advantages. In the first place, a word used figuratively, together with its new sense, suggests what it commonly bears: and thus it has the effect to present two objects; one signified by the figurative sense, which may be termed _the principal object_; and one signified by the proper sense, which may be termed _accessory_. The principal makes a part of the thought; the accessory is merely ornamental. In this respect, a figure of speech is precisely similar to concordant sounds in music, which, without contributing to the melody, make it harmonious. I explain myself by examples. _Youth_, by a figure of speech, is termed _the morning of life_. This expression signifies _youth_, the principal object, which enters into the thought: but it suggests, at the same time, the proper sense of _morning_; and this accessory object being in itself beautiful and connected by resemblance to the principal object, is not a little ornamental. I give another example, of a different kind, where an attribute is expressed figuratively, _Imperious ocean_. Together with the figurative meaning of the epithet _imperious_, there is suggested its proper meaning, _viz._ the stern authority of a despotic prince. Upon this figurative power of words, Vida descants with great elegance:

Nonne vides, verbis ut veris sæpe relictis
Accersant simulata, aliundeque nomina porro
Transportent, aptentque aliis ea rebus; ut ipsæ,
Exuviasque novas, res, insolitosque colores
Indutæ, sæpe externi mirentur amictus
Unde illi, lætæque aliena luce fruantur,
Mutatoque habitu, nec jam sua nomina mallent?
Sæpe ideo, cum bella canunt, incendia credas
Cernere, diluviumque ingens surgentibus undis.
Contrà etiam Martis pugnas imitabitur ignis,
Cum surit accensis acies Vulcania campis.
Nec turbato oritur quondam minor æquore pugna:
Confligunt animosi Euri certamine vasto
Inter se, pugnantque adversis molibus undæ.
Usque adeo passim sua res insignia lætæ
Permutantque, juvantque vicissim; & mutua sese
Altera in alterius transformat protinus ora.
Tum specie capti gaudent spectare legentes:
Nam diversa simul datur è re cernere eadem
Multarum simulacra animo subeuntia rerum.
_Poet. lib. 3. l. 44._

In the next place, this figure possesses a signal power of aggrandising an object, by the following means. Words, which have no original beauty but what arises from their sound, acquire an adventitious beauty from their meaning. A word signifying any thing that is agreeable, becomes by that means agreeable; for the agreeableness of the object is communicated to its name[29]. This acquired beauty, by the force of custom, adheres to the word even when used figuratively; and the beauty received from the thing it properly signifies, is communicated to the thing which it is made to signify figuratively. Consider the foregoing expression _Imperious ocean_, how much more elevated it is than _Stormy ocean_.

Thirdly, this figure hath a happy effect in preventing the familiarity of proper names. The familiarity of a proper name, is communicated to the thing it signifies by means of their intimate connection; and the thing is thereby brought down in our feeling[30]. This bad effect is prevented by using a figurative word instead of one that is proper; as, for example, when we express the sky by terming it _the blue vault of heaven_. For though no work made with hands can compare with the sky in magnificence, the expression however is good, by preventing the object from being brought down by the familiarity of its proper name. With respect to the degrading familiarity of proper names, Vida has the following passage.

Hinc si dura mihi passus dicendus Ulysses,
Non illum vero memorabo nomine, sed qui
Et mores hominum multorum vidit, & urbes,
Naufragus eversæ post sæva incendia Trojæ.
_Poet. lib. 2. l. 46._

Lastly, by this figure language is enriched and rendered more copious. In that respect, were there no other, a figure of speech is a happy invention. This property is finely touched by Vida:

Quinetiam agricolas ea fandi nota voluptas
Exercet, dum læta seges, dum trudere gemmas
Incipiunt vites, sitientiaque ætheris imbrem
Prata bibunt, ridentque satis surgentibus agri.
Hanc vulgo speciem propriæ penuria vocis
Intulit, indictisque urgens in rebus egestas.
Quippe ubi se vera ostendebant nomina nusquam,
Fas erat hinc atque hinc transferre simillima veris.
_Poet. lib. 3. l. 90._

The beauties I have mentioned belong to every figure of speech. Several other beauties peculiar to one or other sort, I shall have occasion to remark afterward.

* * * * *

Not only subjects, but qualities, actions, effects, may be expressed figuratively. Thus as to subjects, _the gates of breath_ for the lips, _the watery kingdom_ for the ocean. As to qualities, _fierce_ for stormy, in the expression _Fierce winter_: _altus_ for profundus, _altus puteus, altum mare_: _Breathing_ for perspiring, _Breathing plants_. Again, as to actions, the sea _rages_: Time will _melt_ her frozen thoughts: Time _kills_ grief. An effect is put for the cause, as _lux_ for the sun; and a cause for the effect, as _boum labores_ for corn. The relation of resemblance is one plentiful source of figures of speech; and nothing is more common than to apply to one object the name of another that resembles it in any respect. Height, size, and worldly greatness, though in themselves they have no resemblance, produce emotions in the mind that have a resemblance; and, led by this resemblance, we naturally express worldly greatness by height or size. One feels a certain uneasiness in looking down to a great depth: and hence depth is made to express any thing disagreeable by excess; as _depth_ of grief, _depth_ of despair. Again, height of place and time long past, produce similar feelings; and hence the expression, _Ut altius repetam_. Distance in past time, producing a strong feeling, is put for any strong feeling: _Nihil mihi antiquius nostra amicitia._ Shortness with relation to space, for shortness with relation to time: _Brevis esse laboro; obscurus fio_. Suffering a punishment resembles paying a debt: hence _pendere pœnas_. Upon the same account, light may be put for glory, sun-shine for prosperity, and weight for importance.

Many words, originally figurative, having, by long and constant use, lost their figurative power, are degraded to the inferior rank of proper terms. Thus the words that express the operations of the mind, have in all languages been originally figurative. The reason holds in all, that when these operations came first under consideration, there was no other way of describing them but by what they resembled. It was not practicable to give them proper names, as may be done to objects that can be ascertained by sight and touch. A _soft_ nature, _jarring_ tempers, _weight_ of wo, _pompous_ phrase, _beget_ compassion, _assuage_ grief, _break_ a vow, _bend_ the eye downward, _shower_ down curses, _drown’d_ in tears, _wrapt_ in joy, _warm’d_ with eloquence, _loaden_ with spoils, and a thousand other expressions of the like nature, have lost their figurative sense. Some terms there are, that cannot be said to be either purely figurative or altogether proper: originally figurative, they are tending to simplicity, without having lost altogether their figurative power. Virgil’s _Regina saucia cura_, is perhaps one of these expressions. With ordinary readers, _saucia_ will be considered as expressing simply the effect of grief; but one of a lively imagination will exalt the phrase into a figure.

To epitomise this subject, and at the same time to give a clear view of it, I cannot think of a better method, than to present to the reader a list of the several relations upon which figures of speech are commonly founded. This list I divide into two tables; one of subjects expressed figuratively, and one of attributes.

FIRST TABLE.

_Subjects expressed figuratively._

1. A word proper to one subject employed figuratively to express a resembling subject.

There is no figure of speech so frequent, as what is derived from the relation of resemblance. Youth, for example, is signified figuratively by the _morning_ of life. The life of a man resembles a natural day in several particulars. The morning is the beginning of day, youth the beginning of life: the morning is chearful, so is youth; &c. By another resemblance, a bold warrior is termed the _thunderbolt_ of war; a multitude of troubles, a _sea_ of troubles.

No other figure of speech possesses so many different beauties, as that which is founded on resemblance. Beside the beauties above mentioned, common to all sorts, it possesses in particular the beauty of a metaphor or of a simile. A figure of speech built upon resemblance, suggests always a comparison betwixt the principal subject and the accessory; and by this means every good effect of a metaphor or simile, may, in a short and lively manner, be produced by this figure of speech.

2. A word proper to the effect employ’d figuratively to express the cause.

_Lux_ for the sun. _Shadow_ for cloud. A helmet is signified by the expression _glittering terror_. A tree by _shadow_ or _umbrage_. Hence the expression,

Nec habet Pelion umbras.
_Ovid._

Where the dun umbrage hangs.
_Spring, l. 1023._

A wound is made to signify an arrow:

Vulnere non pedibus te consequar.
_Ovid._

There is a peculiar force and beauty in this figure. The word which signifies figuratively the principal subject, denotes it to be a cause by suggesting the effect.

3. A word proper to the cause, employ’d figuratively to express the effect.

_Boumque labores_ for corn. _Sorrow_ or _grief_ for tears.

Again Ulysses veil’d his pensive head,
Again unmann’d, a show’r of _sorrow_ shed.

Streaming _Grief_ his faded cheek bedew’d.

_Blindness_ for darkness:

Cæcis erramus in undis.
_Æneid. iii. 200._

There is a peculiar energy in this figure similar to that in the former. The figurative name denotes the subject to be an effect by suggesting its cause.

4. Two things being intimately connected, the proper name of the one employ’d figuratively to signify the other.

_Day_ for light. _Night_ for darkness. Hence, A sudden night. _Winter_ for a storm at sea.

Interea magno misceri murmure pontum,
Emissamque Hyemem sensit Neptunus.
_Æneid. i. 128._

This last figure would be too bold for a British writer, as a storm at sea is not inseparably connected with winter in this climate.

5. A word proper to an attribute employ’d figuratively to denote the subject.

_Youth_ and _beauty_ for those who are young and beautiful:

Youth and beauty shall be laid in dust.

_Majesty_ for the King:

What art thou, that usurp’st this time of night,
Together with that fair and warlike form,
In which the _Majesty_ of buried Denmark
Did sometime march?
_Hamlet, act 1. sc. 1._

-------- Or have ye chosen this place,
After the toils of battle, to repose
Your weary’d _virtue_?
_Paradise Lost._
_Verdure_ for a green field. _Summer. l. 301._

Speaking of cranes:

To pigmy nations wounds and death they bring,
And all the _war_ descends upon the wing.
_Iliad_ iii. 10.

Cool _age_ advances venerably wise.
_Iliad_ iii. 149.

The peculiar beauty of this figure arises from suggesting an attribute that embellishes the subject, or puts it in a stronger light.

6. A complex term employ’d figuratively to denote one of the component parts.

_Funus_ for a dead body. _Burial_ for a grave.

7. The name of one of the component parts instead of the complex term.

_Tœda_ for a marriage. The _East_ for a country situated east from us. _Jovis vestigia servat_, for imitating Jupiter in general.

8. A word signifying time or place employ’d figuratively to denote a connected subject.

_Clime_ for a nation, or for a constitution of government: Hence the expression, _Merciful clime_. _Fleecy winter_ for snow. _Seculum felix._

9. A part for the whole.

The _pole_ for the earth. The _head_ for the person.

Triginta minas pro capite tuo dedi.
_Plautus._

_Tergum_ for the man:

Fugiens tergum.
_Ovid._

_Vultus_ for the man:

Jam fulgor armorum fugaces
Terret equos, equitumque vultus.
_Horat._

Quis desiderio sit pudor aut modus
Tam chari _capitis_?
_Horat._

Dumque virent _genua_.

_Horat._

Thy growing virtues justify’d my cares,
And promis’d comfort to my _silver hairs_.
_Iliad_ ix. 616.

----Forthwith from the pool he rears
His mighty _stature_.
_Paradise Lost._

The silent _heart_ which grief assails.
_Parnell._

The peculiar beauty of this figure consists in marking out that part which makes the greatest figure.

10. The name of the container employ’d figuratively to signify what is contained.

_Grove_ for the birds in it: Vocal _grove_. _Ships_ for the seamen: Agonizing _ships_. _Mountains_ for the sheep pasturing upon them: Bleating _mountains_. _Zacynthus, Ithaca, &c._ for the inhabitants. _Ex mœstis domibus._ Livy.

11. The name of the sustainer employ’d figuratively to signify what is sustained.

_Altar_ for the sacrifice. _Field_ for the battle fought upon it: Well-fought _field_.

12. The name of the materials employ’d figuratively to signify the things made of them.

_Ferrum_ for _gladius_.

13. The names of the Heathen deities employ’d figuratively to signify what they patronise.

_Jove_ for the air. _Mars_ for war. _Venus_ for beauty. _Cupid_ for love. _Ceres_ for corn. _Neptune_ for the sea. _Vulcan_ for fire.

This figure bestows great elevation upon the subject; and therefore ought to be confined to the higher strains of poetry.

SECOND TABLE.

_Attributes expressed figuratively._

1. When two attributes are connected, the name of the one may be employ’d figuratively to express the other.

Purity and virginity are attributes of the same person. Hence the expression, _Virgin_ snow for pure snow.

2. A word signifying properly an attribute of one subject, employ’d figuratively to express a resembling attribute of another subject.

_Tottering_ state. _Imperious_ ocean. _Angry_ flood. _Raging_ tempest. _Shallow_ fears.

My sure divinity shall bear the shield,
And edge thy sword to _reap_ the glorious field.
_Odyssey_ xx. 61.

_Black omen_, for an omen that portends bad fortune:

_Ater_ odor.
_Virgil._

The peculiar beauty of this figure arises from suggesting a comparison.

3. A word proper to the subject, employ’d to express one of its attributes.

_Mens_ for _intellectus_. _Mens_ for a resolution.

Istam, oro, exue mentem.

4. When two subjects have a resemblance by a common quality, the name of the one subject may be employ’d figuratively to denote that quality in the other.

_Summer_ life for agreeable life.

5. The name of the instrument, made to signify the power of employing it.

---- Melpomene, cui liquidam pater
Vocem cum _cithara_ dedit.

The ample field of figurative expression display’d in these tables, affords great scope for reasoning and reflection. Several of the observations relating to metaphor, are applicable to figures of speech. These I shall slightly retouch, with some additions peculiarly adapted to the present subject.

In the first place, as the figure under consideration is built upon relation, we find from experience, and it must be obvious from reason, that the beauty of the figure depends on the intimacy of the relation betwixt the figurative and proper sense of the word. A slight resemblance, in particular, will never make this figure agreeable. The expression, for example, _drink down a secret_, for listening to a secret with attention, is harsh and uncouth, because there is scarce any resemblance betwixt _listening_ and _drinking_. The expression _weighty crack_, used by Ben Johnson for _loud crack_, is worse if possible: a loud sound has not the slightest resemblance to a piece of matter that is weighty. The following expression of Lucretius is not less faulty. “Et lepido quæ sunt _fucata_ sonore.” i. 645.

---------------- Sed magis
Pugnas et exactos tyrannos
Densum humeris _bibit_ aure vulgus.
_Horat. Carm. l. 2. ode 13._

Phemius! let acts of gods, and heroes old,
What ancient bards in hall and bow’r have told,
Attemper’d to the lyre, your voice employ,
Such the pleas’d _ear will drink_ with silent joy,
_Odyssey_ i. 433.

Strepitumque exterritus _hausit_.
_Æneid._ vi. 559.

------------ Write, my Queen,
And with mine eyes I’ll _drink_ the words you send.
_Cymbeline, act 1. sc. 2._

As thus th’ effulgence tremulous I _drink_.
_Summer, l. 1684._

Neque _audit_ currus habenas.
_Georg._ i. 514.

O Prince! (Lycaon’s valiant son reply’d)
As thine the steeds, be thine the task to guide.
The horses practis’d to their lord’s command,
Shall _hear_ the rein, and answer to thy hand.
_Iliad._ v. 288.

The following figures of speech seem altogether wild and extravagant, the figurative and proper meaning having no connection whatever. _Moving_ softness, freshness _breathes_, _breathing_ prospect, _flowing_ spring, _dewy_ light, _lucid_ coolness, and many others of this false coin may be found in Thomson’s _Seasons_.

Secondly, the proper sense of the word ought to bear some proportion to the figurative sense, and not soar much above it, nor sink much below it. This rule, as well as the foregoing, is finely illustrated by Vida:

Hæc adeo cum sint, cum fas audere poetis
Multa modis multis; tamen observare memento,
Si quando haud propriis rem mavis dicere verbis,
Translatisque aliunde notis, longeque petitis,
Ne nimiam ostendas, quærendo talia, curam.
Namque aliqui exercent vim duram, et rebus iniqui
Nativam eripiunt formam, indignantibus ipsis,
Invitasque jubent alienos sumere vultus.
Haud magis imprudens mihi erit, et luminis expers,
Qui puero ingentes habitus det ferre gigantis,
Quam siquis stabula alta lares appellet equinos,
Aut crines magnæ genitricis gramina dicat.
_Poet. l. iii. 148._

Thirdly, in a figure of speech, every circumstance ought to be avoided that agrees with the proper sense only, not the figurative sense; for it is the latter that expresses the thought, and the former serves for no other purpose but to make harmony:

Zacynthus green with ever-shady groves,
And Ithaca, presumptuous boast their loves;
Obtruding on my choice a second lord,
They press the Hymenean rite abhorr’d.
_Odyssey_ xix. 152.

Zacynthus here standing figuratively for the inhabitants, the description of the island is quite out of place. It puzzles the reader, by making him doubt whether the word ought to be taken in its proper or figurative sense.

---------------- Write, my Queen,
And with mine eyes I’ll drink the words you send,
Though ink be made of gall.
_Cymbeline, act 1. sc. 2._

The disgust one has to drink ink in reality, is nothing to the purpose where the subject is drinking ink figuratively.

In the fourth place, to draw consequences from a figure of speech, as if the word were to be understood literally, is a gross absurdity, for it is confounding truth with fiction:

Be Moubray’s sins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming courser’s back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford.
_Richard II. act 1. sc. 3._

Sin may be imagined heavy in a figurative sense: but weight in a proper sense belongs to the accessory only; and therefore to describe the effects of weight, is to desert the principal subject, and to convert the accessory into a principal.

_Cromwell._ How does your Grace?

_Wolsey._ Why, well;
Never so truly happy, my good Cromwell.
I know myself now, and I feel within me
A peace above all earthly dignities,
A still and quiet conscience. The King has cur’d me,
I humbly thank his Grace; and, from these shoulders,
These ruin’d pillars, out of pity taken
A load would sink a navy, too much honour.
_Henry VIII. act 3. sc. 6._

Ulysses speaking of Hector:

I wonder now how yonder city stands
When we have here the base and pillar by us.
_Troilus and Cressida, act 4. sc. 9._

_Othello._ No, my heart is turn’d to stone: I strike it and it
hurts my hand.

_Othello, act 4. sc. 5._

Not less, even in this despicable now,
Than when my name fill’d Afric with affrights,
And froze your hearts beneath your torrid zone.
_Don Sebastian King of Portugal, act 1._

How long a space, since first I lov’d, it is!
To look into a glass I fear,
And am surpris’d with wonder, when I miss
Grey hairs and wrinkles there.
_Cowley, vol. 1. p. 86._

I chose the flourishing’st tree in all the park
With freshest boughs, and fairest head;
I cut my love into his gentle bark,
And in three days behold ’tis dead;
My very written flames so violent be,
They’ve burnt and wither’d up the tree.
_Cowley, vol. 1. p. 136._

Ah, mighty Love, that it were inward heat
Which made this precious Limbeck sweat!
But what, alas, ah what does it avail
That she weeps tears so wond’rous cold,
As scarce the asses hoof can hold,
So cold, that I admire they fall not hail.
_Cowley, vol. 1. p. 132._

Je crains que cette saison
Ne nous amenne la peste;
La gueule du chien celeste
Vomit feu sur l’horison.
A fin que je m’en délivre,
Je veux lire ton gros livre
Jusques au dernier feüillet:
Tout ce que ta plume trace,
Robinet, a de la glace
A faire trembler Juillet.
_Maynard._

In me tota ruens Venus
Cyprum deseruit.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 1. ode. 19._

_Almeria._ O Alphonso, Alphonso!
Devouring seas have wash’d thee from my sight,
No time shall rase thee from my memory;
No, I will live to be thy monument:
The cruel ocean is no more thy tomb;
But in my heart thou art interr’d.
_Mourning Bride, act 1. sc. 1._

This would be very right, if there were any inconsistence in being interred in one place really and in another place figuratively.

From considering that a word employ’d in a figurative sense suggests at the same time its proper meaning, a fifth rule occurs, That to raise a figure of speech, we ought to use no word, the proper sense of which is inconsistent or incongruous with the subject: for no incongruity, far less inconsistency, whether real or imagined, ought to enter into the expression of any subject:

Interea genitor Tyberini ad fluminis undam
Vulnera _siccabat_ lymphis----
_Æneid. x. 833._

Tres adeo incertos cæca caligine _soles_
Erramus pelago, totidem sine sidere noctes.
_Æneid_. iii. 203.

The foregoing rule may be extended to form a sixth, That no epithet ought to be given to the figurative sense of a word that agrees not also with its proper sense:

-------- Dicat Opuntiæ
Frater Megillæ, quo _beatus_
Vulnere.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 1. ode 27._

Parcus deorum cultor, et infrequens,
_Insanientis_ dum sapientiæ
Consultus erro.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 1. ode 34._

Seventhly, The crowding into one period or thought different figures of speech, is not less faulty than crowding metaphors in that manner. The mind is distracted in the quick transition from one image to another, and is puzzled instead of being pleased:

I am of ladies most deject and wretched,
That suck’d the honey of his music vows.
_Hamlet._

My bleeding bosom sickens at the sound.
_Odyss._ i. 439.

---------------- Ah miser,
Quantâ laboras in _Charybdi_!
Digne puer meliore _flammâ_.
Quæ saga, quis te solvere Thessalis
Magus _venenis_, quis poterit deus?
Vix illigatum te triformi
Pegasus expediet _Chimærâ_.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 1. ode 27._

Eighthly, If crowding figures be bad, it is still worse to graft one figure upon another. For instance,

While his keen falchion drinks the warriors lives.
_Iliad_ xi. 211.

A falchion drinking the warriors blood is a figure built upon resemblance, which is passable. But then in the expression, _lives_ is again put for blood; and by thus grafting one figure upon another the expression is rendered obscure and unpleasant.

Ninthly, Intricate and involved figures, that can scarce be analized or reduced to plain language, are least of all tolerable:

Votis incendimus aras.
_Æneid._ iii. 279.

---- Onerantque canistris
Dona laboratæ Cereris.
_Æneid._ viii. 180.

Vulcan to the Cyclopes,

Arma acri facienda viro: nunc viribus usus,
Nunc manibus rapidis, omni nunc arte magistra:
_Præcipitate_ moras.
_Æneid._ viii. 441.

-------- Huic gladio, perque ærea suta
Per tunicam squalentem auro, latus _haurit_ apertum.
_Æneid._ x. 313.

Semotique prius tarda necessitas
Lethi, corripuit gradum.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 1. ode 3._

Scribêris Vario fortis, et hostium
Victor, Mæonii carminis _alite_.
_Horat. Carm. lib. 1. ode 6._

Else shall our fates be number’d with the dead.
_Iliad_ v. 294.

Commutual death the fate of war confounds.
_Iliad viii. 85. and xi. 117._

Speaking of Proteus,

Instant he wears, elusive of the rape,
The mimic force of every savage shape.
_Odyss._ iv. 563.

Rolling convulsive on the floor, is seen
The piteous object of a prostrate Queen.
_Ibid._ iv. 952.

The mingling tempest waves its gloom.
_Autumn_, 337.

A various sweetness swells the gentle race.
_Ibid._ 640.

A sober calm fleeces unbounded ether.
_Ibid._ 967.

The distant water-fall swells in the breeze.
_Winter_, 738.

In the tenth place, When a subject is introduced by its proper name, it is absurd to attribute to it the properties of a different subject to which the word is sometimes apply’d in a figurative sense:

Hear me, oh Neptune! thou whose arms are hurl’d
From shore to shore, and gird the solid world.
_Odyss._ ix. 617.

Neptune is here introduced personally, and not figuratively for the ocean: the description therefore, which is only applicable to the ocean, is altogether improper.

It is not sufficient, that a figure of speech be regularly constructed, and be free from blemish: it requires taste to discern when it is proper when improper; and taste, I suspect, is the only guide we can rely on. One however may gather from reflection and experience, that ornaments and graces suit not any of the dispiriting passions, nor are proper for expressing any thing grave and important. In familiar conversation, they are in some measure ridiculous. Prospero in the _Tempest_, speaking to his daughter Miranda, says,

The fringed curtains of thine eyes advance,
And say what thou seest yond.

No exception can be taken to the justness of the figure; and circumstances may be imagined to make it proper: but it is certainly not proper in familiar conversation.

In the last place, though figures of speech have a charming effect when accurately constructed and properly introduced, they ought however to be scattered with a sparing hand: nothing is more luscious, and nothing consequently more satiating, than redundant ornament of any kind.

CHAP. XXI.

Narration and Description.

Horace, and many writers after him, give instructions for chusing a subject adapted to the genius of the author. But rules of criticism would be endless, did one descend to peculiarities in talent or genius. The aim of the present work is, to consider human nature in general, and to explore what is common to the species. The choice of a subject comes not under such a plan: but the manner of execution comes under it; because the manner of execution is subjected to general rules. These rules respect the things expressed, as well as the language or expression; which suggests a division of the present chapter into two parts; first of thoughts, and next of words. I pretend not to justify this division as entirely accurate. In discoursing of the thoughts, it is difficult to abstract altogether from words; and still more difficult, in discoursing of the words, to abstract altogether from thought.

The first observation is, That the thoughts which embellish a narration ought to be chaste and solid. While the mind is intent upon facts, it is little disposed to the operarations of the imagination. Poetical images in a grave history are intolerable; and yet Strada’s Belgic history is full of poetical images. These being discordant with the subject, are disgustful; and they have a still worse effect, by giving an air of fiction to a genuine history. Such flowers ought to be scattered with a sparing hand, even in epic poetry; and at no rate are they proper, till the reader be warmed, and by an enlivened imagination be prepared to relish them: in that state of mind, they are extremely agreeable. But while we are sedate and attentive to an historical chain of facts, we reject with disdain every fiction. This Belgic history is indeed wofully vicious both in matter and form: it is stuffed with frigid and unmeaning reflections, as well as with poetical flashes, which, even laying aside the impropriety, are mere tinsel.

Vida[31], following Horace, recommends a modest commencement of an epic poem; giving for a reason, that the writer ought to husband his fire. This reason has weight; but what is said above suggests a reason still more weighty: Bold thoughts and figures are never relished till the mind be heated and thoroughly engaged, which is not the reader’s case at the commencement. Shakespear, in the first part of his history of Henry VI. begins with a sentiment too bold for the most heated imagination:

_Bedford._ Hung be the heav’ns with black, yield day to night!
Comets, importing change of times and states,
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars,
That have consented unto Henry’s death!

Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
England ne’er lost a king of so much worth.

The passage with which Strada begins his history, is too poetical for a subject of that kind; and at any rate too high for the beginning of a grave performance. A third reason ought to have not less influence than either of the former: A man who, upon his first appearance, endeavours to exhibit all his talents, is never relished; the first periods of a work ought therefore to be short, natural, and simple. Cicero, in his oration _pro Archia poeta_, errs against this rule: his reader is out of breath at the very first period, which seems never to end. Burnet begins the history of his own times with a period long and intricate.

A third rule or observation is, That where the subject is intended for entertainment solely, not for instruction, a thing ought to be described as it appears, not as it is in reality. In running, for example, the impulse upon the ground is accurately proportioned to the celerity of motion: in appearance it is otherwise; for a person in swift motion seems to skim the ground, and scarcely to touch it. Virgil, with great taste, describes quick running according to its appearance; and thereby raises an image far more lively, than it could have been by adhering scrupulously to truth:

Hos super advenit Volsca de gente Camilla,
Agmen agens equitum et florentes ære catervas,
Bellatrix: non illa colo calathisve Minervæ
Fœmineas assueta manus; sed prælia virgo
Dura pati, cursuque pedum prævertere ventos.
Illa vel intactæ segetis per summa volaret
Gramina: nec teneras cursu læsisset aristas:
Vel mare per medium, fluctu suspensa tumenti,
Ferret iter; celeres nec tingeret æquore plantas.
_Æneid_ vii. 803.

This example is copied by the author of _Telemachus_:

Les Brutiens sont legeres à la course comme les cerfs, et comme les
daims. On croiroit que l’herbe même la plus tendre n’est point
foulée sous leurs pieds; à peine laissent ils dans le sable
quelques traces de leurs pas.

_Liv._ 10.

Again,

Déja il avoit abattu Eusilas si léger à la course, qu’à peine il
imprimoit la trace de ses pas dans le sable, et qui devançoit dans
son pays les plus rapides flots de l’ Eurotas et de l’ Alphée.

_Liv._ 20.

Fourthly, In narration as well as in description, facts and objects ought to be painted so accurately as to form in the mind of the reader distinct and lively images. Every useless circumstance ought indeed to be suppressed, because every such circumstance loads the narration; but if a circumstance be necessary, however slight, it cannot be described too minutely. The force of language consists in raising complete images[32]; which cannot be done till the reader, forgetting himself, be transported as by magic into the very place and time of the important action, and be converted, as it were, into a real spectator, beholding every thing that passes. In this view, the narrative in an epic poem ought to rival a picture in the liveliness and accuracy of its representations: no circumstance must be omitted that tends to make a complete image; because an imperfect image, as well as any other imperfect conception, is cold and uninteresting. I shall illustrate this rule by several examples, giving the first place to a beautiful passage from Virgil.

Qualis _populeâ_ mœrens Philomela sub umbrâ
Amissos queritur fœtus, quos durus _arator_
Observans nido _implumes_ detraxit.
_Georg. lib. 4. l. 511._

The poplar, plowman, and unfledged, though not essential in the description, are circumstances that tend to make a complete image, and upon that account are an embellishment.

Again,

Hic viridem Æneas _frondenti ex ilice_ metam
Constituit, signum nautis.
_Æneid._ v. 129.

Horace, addressing to Fortune:

Te pauper ambit sollicita prece
Ruris colonus: te dominam æquoris,
Quicumque Bithynâ lacessit
Carpathium pelagus carinâ.
_Carm. lib. 1. ode 35._

---- Illum ex mœnibus hosticis
Matrona bellantis tyranni
Prospiciens, et adulta virgo,
Suspiret: Eheu, ne rudis agminum
Sponsus lacessat regius asperum
Tactu leonem, quem cruenta
Per medias rapit ira cædes.
_Carm. lib. 3. ode 2._

Shakespear says[33], “You may as well go about to turn the sun to ice by fanning in his face with _a peacock’s_ feather.” The peacock’s feather, not to mention the beauty of the object, completes the image. An accurate image cannot be formed of this fanciful operation, without conceiving a particular feather; and the mind is at some loss, when this is not specified in the decription. Again, “The rogues slighted me into the river with as little remorse, as they would have drown’d a bitch’s blind puppies, fifteen i’ th’ litter[34].”

_Old Lady._ You would not be a queen?

_Anne._ No not for all the riches under heaven.