why? What is the next reason assign- what is observed; and to this sort of ed? Of music, among them, what is flowing measure, what must be attriobserved? What have several learned buted? What must, however, at the men clearly proved; and what fol- same time be observed ? lows? How was all sort of declama- What is the next thing to be attendtion and public speaking carried on by ed to? What says Quintilian on this them; and to what did it approach? subject? When we aim at dignity, Among the Athenians, what existed? what is the only important rule that Among the Romans, what noted story can be given? What example of this prevails? What remark follows? Of is given? Hence, of what must every Quintilian, what is here observed ? reader be sensible? Why does a fallHence, what do we find marked upon ing off at the end injure the melody of the Greek syllables; and for what pur- a sentence? What is here more than pose? Of the Romans, what is here probable; and for what reason? To observed? What is one clear reason illustrate this remark, what example why the Greeks and Romans paid is given; and how might it be correctmuch greater attention to the musical ed? In general, what seems to hold construction of their sentences than we true? Under what circumstances only, do? What is further known, as an- do short syllables conclude a sentence other reason why it deserved to be more harmoniously? What sentences is it studied? What does Cicero tell us; necessary, however, to observe, give a and what does he give? By means of discourse the tone of declamation; and the sound of which, alone, what effect why? If we would keep up the atten does he tell us was produced? Though tion of the reader or hearer, what is it be true that Carbo's sentence is ex-requisite ? What does this equally retremely musical, yet, what cannot our gard? What sentences should never author believe; why; and what fol- follow one another? Why should short lows? For these reasons, of what is it sentences be intermixed with long ones; in vain to think? What has the doc- and even what have sometimes a good trine of the Greeks and Romans, on effect? Of monotony, what is observed; this head, misled some to imagine ? On what writers are apt to fall into it; this subject, what is first remarked; and and what follows? How are a very why? What is the next remark? And vulgar ear, and a just and correct one. lastly, of this whole doctrine, what is here contrasted? Though attention to remarked? Of the attention of the an- the music of sentences must not be cients to the melody of discourse, what neglected, yet why must it be kept is further observed? If we consult Ci- in proper bounds? What are great cero's Orator, what shall we see? blemishes in writing; and why? As Why is it not possible to give precise sense has its own harmony, as well as rules concerning this matter, in any sound, what follows? To what conclulanguage? Notwithstanding this musi- sion does Quintilian, after all the labour cal arrangement cannot be reduced which he bestows to regulate the into any system, yet what is our au- measure of prose, come? What is here thor far from thinking? On the con- said of Cicero; and what must we obtrary, what does he hold; and what follows? What, in this, must chiefly direct him; and why? On what two things does the music of a sentence chiefly depend? In the proper distri- Shaftesbury, what is observed; __and bution of the several members of a sen- also of Mr. Addison, Sir William Temtence, what is it of importance to observe? ple, Archbishop Tillotson, Bishop AtWhile the period is going on, what terbury, and Dean Swift? Hitherto, ct does the termination of each of its mem- what has our author discoursed; and bers form; and how should these rests what yet remains? How are these conbe distributed? By what example will trasted? What are the two degrees of this be best illustrated? Why is there it, which we may remark? With what not, in this sentence, any harmony? have sounds a correspondence; and On the other hand, what shall we ob- hence, what happens? What is the serve? Of what is he speaking? Re-effect of sentences constructed after the peat the passage. Of this passage, Ciceronian fulness; and why? Wha serve in his defence? Among the few English classical writers, what is remarked of Milton, and of the writers of the age in which he lived? Of Lord Harmony. ANALYSIS. do they not suit; and what do these is given? Of Homer and Virgil, what is require? What, therefore, follows? here observed? What happy instance How is this illustrated; and what were is given in English? In what does the absurd? Of the sentence here intro-third set of objects, which the sounds of duced from Cicero, what is remarked? words are capable of representing, conTo have used the same periods where, sist? What remark follows? What, would have been laughable; and cannot this be called; and why? But hence, what is requisite? What must what follows? What is here admitted? this general idea direct? What may it What follows; and what examples are be proper here to remark? What do given? Without much study, what grave, solemn, and majestic subjects, may a poet do? Of brisk and lively, require? Where are examples of this and also of melancholy sensations, to be found; and what, naturally runs what is observed? What is the closing into numbers of this kind? But, in the remark? next place, what is remarked? Where can this, sometimes, be accomplished; but where is it to be chiefly looked for; and why? What three classes of objects may sounds of words be employed to represent? First, by a proper choice of words, what may be produced; and why? How is this illustrated? Here, what assists him; and why? What examples are given? What remarkable example of this beauty is produced from Milton? Repeat the passages. What other beautiful passage is given for the same purpose? In the second place, what different kinds of motion are imitated by sounds of words? What observation follows; and, therefore, here, what is in the poet's power? What impression do long syllables give; of which, what example have we? What is the effect of short syllables; and what example 1. Sounds without reference to sense. a. The advantages of the Greeks b. The proper distribution of the members of a sentence. c. The close or cadence of the whole. 2. Sounds adapted to the sense. LECTURE A. Adapted to the tenour of a dis course. B. Resemblance between the sound and the object described. a. Other sounds. b. Motion. c. Emotions and passions. XIV. ORIGIN AND NATURE OF FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE. HAVING now finished what related to the construction of sentences, I proceed to other rules concerning style. My general division of the qualities of style, was into perspicuity and ornament. Perspicuity, both in single words and in sentences, I have considered. Ornament, as far as it arises from a graceful, strong, and melodious construction of words, has also been treated of. Another, and a great branch of the ornament of style, is, figurative language; which is now to be the subject of our consideration, and will require a full discussion. Our first inquiry must be, what is meant by figures of speech ?* In general, they always imply some departure from simplicity of On the subject of figures of speech, all the writers who treat of rhetoric or composi ion, have insisted largely. To make references, therefore, on this subject, were endless. On the foundations of figurative language, in general, one of the most sensible and instructive writers appears to me to be M. Marsais, in his Traite des Tropes pour servir d'Introduction a la Rhetorique et a la Logique. For observations on particular figures, he Elements of Criticism may be consulted, where the subject is fully handled, and ilustrated by a great variety of examples. expression; the idea which we intend to convey, not only enunciated to others, but enunciated, in a particular manner, and with some circumstance added, which is designed to render the impression more strong and vivid. When I say, for instance, 'That good man enjoys comfort in the midst of adversity;' I just express my thought in the simplest manner possible. But when I say, 'To the upright there ariseth light in darkness;' the same sentiment is expressed in a figurative style; a new circumstance is introduced; light is put in the place of comfort, and darkness is used to suggest the idea of adversity. In the same manner, to say, 'It is impossible, by any search we can make, to explore the divine nature fully,' is to make a simple proposition. But when we say, 'Canst thou, by searching, find out God? Canst thou find out the Almighty to perfection? It is high as heaven, what canst thou do? deeper than hell, what canst thou know?' This introduces a figure into style; the proposition being not only expressed, but admiration and astonishment being expressed together with it. But, though figures imply a deviation from what may be reckoned the most simple form of speech, we are not thence to conclude, that they imply any thing uncommon, or unnatural. This is so far from being the case, that, on very many occasions, they are both the most natural, and the most common method of uttering our sentiments. It is impossible to compose any discourse without using them often; nay, there are few sentences of any length, in which some expression or other, that may be termed a figure, doe not occur. From what causes this happens, shall be afterwards ex plained. The fact, in the mean time, shows, that they are to be accounted part of that language which nature dictates to men. They are not the inventions of the schools, nor the mere product of study: on the contrary, the most illiterate speak in figures, as often as the most learned. Whenever the imaginations of the vulgar are much awakened, or their passions inflamed against one another, they will pour fourth a torrent of figurative language as forcible as could be employed by the most artificial declaimer. What then is it, which has drawn the attention of critics and rhetoricians so much to these forms of speech? It is this; They remarked, that in them consists much of the beauty and the force of language; and found them always to bear some characters, or distinguishing marks, by the help of which they could reduce them under separate classes and heads. To this, perhaps, they owe their name of figures. As the figure, or shape of one body, distinguishes it from another, so these forms of speech have, each of them, a cast or turn peculiar to itself, which both distinguishes it from. the rest, and distinguishes it from simple expression. Simple expression just makes our idea known to others; but figurative language, over and above, bestows a particular dress upon that idea; a dress, which both makes it to be remarked, and adorns it. Hence, this sort of language became early a capital object of attention to those who studied the powers of speech. Figures, in general, may be described to be that language, which is prompted either by the imagination, or by the passions. The justness of this description will appear, from the more particular account I am afterwards to give of them. Rhetoricians commonly divide them into two great classes; figures of words, and figures of thought. The former, figures of words, are commonly called tropes, and consist in a word's being employed to signify something that is different from its original and primitive meaning; so that if you alter the word, you destroy the figure. Thus, in the instance I gave before; Light ariseth to the upright in darkness.' The trope consists in light and darkness' being not meant literally, but substituted for comfort and adversity, on account of some resemblance or analogy which they are supposed to bear to these conditions of life. The other class, termed figures of thought, supposes the words to be used in their proper and literal meaning, and the figure to consist in the turn of the thought; as is the case in exclamations, interrogations, apostrophes, and comparisons; where, though you vary the words that are used, or translate them from one language into another, you may, nevertheless, still preserve the same figure in the thought. This distinction, however, is of no great use, as nothing can be built upon it in practice; neither is it always very clear. It is of little importance, whether we give to some particular mode of expression the name of a trope, or of a figure; provided we remember, that figurative language always imports some colouring of the imagination, or from some emotion of passion, expressed in our style: and, perhaps, figures of imagination, and figures of passion, might be a more useful distribution of the subject. But without insisting on any artificial divisions, it will be more useful, that I inquire into the origin and the nature of figures. Only, before I proceed to this, there are two general observations which it may be proper to premise. The first is, concerning the use of rules with respect to figurative language. I admit, that persons may both speak and write with propriety, who know not the names of any of the figures of speech, nor ever studied any rules relating to them. Nature, as was before observed, dictates the use of figures; and, like Mons. Jourdain, in Moliere, who had spoken for forty years in prose, without ever knowing it, many a one uses metaphorical expressions to good purpose, without any idea of what a metaphor is. It will not, however, follow thence, that rules are of no service. All science arises from observations on practice. Practice has always gone before method and rule; but method and rule have afterwards improved and perfected practice in every art. We every day meet with persons who sing agreeably without knowing one note of the gamut. Yet, it has been found of importance to reduce these notes to a scale, and to form an art of music; and it would be ridiculous to pretend, that the art is of no advantage, because the practice is founded in nature. Propriety and beauty of speech, are certainly as improveable as the ear or the voice; and to know the principles of this beauty, or the reasons which render one figure, or one manner of speech, preferable to another, cannot fail to assist and direct a proper choice. But I must observe, in the next place, that although this part of style merits attention, and is a very proper object of science and rule; although much of the beauty of composition depends on figurative language; yet we must beware of imagining that it depends solely, or even chiefly, upon such language. It is not so. The great place which the doctrine of tropes and figures has occupied in systems of rhetoric; the over-anxious care which has been shown in giving names to a vast variety of them, and in ranging them under different classes, has often led persons to imagine, that if their composition was well bespangled with a number of these ornaments of speech, it wanted no other beauty: whence has arisen much stiffness and affectation. For it is, in truth, the sentiment or passion, which lies under the figured expression, that gives it any merit. The figure is only the dress; the sentiment is the body and the substance. No figures will render a cold or an empty composition interesting; whereas, if a sentiment be sublime or pathetic, it can support itself perfectly well, without any borrowed assistance. Hence, several of the most affecting and admired passages of the best authors, are expressed in the simplest language. The follow, ing sentiment from Virgil, for instance, makes its way at once to the heart, without the help of any figure whatever. He is describing an Argive, who falls in battle, in Italy, at a great distance from his native country: Sternitur, infelix, alieno vulnere, cœlumque Aspicit, et dulcis moriens reminiscitur Argos.* EN. x. 781 A single stroke of this kind, drawn as by the very pencil of nature, is worth a thousand figures. In the same manner, the sim ple style of scripture: 'He spoke, and it was done; he commanded, and it stood fast." God said, let there be light; and there was light;' imparts a lofty conception, to much greater advantage, than if it had been decorated by the most pompous metaphors. The fact is, that the strong pathetic, and the pure sublime, not only have little dependence on figures of speech, but generally reject them. The proper region of these ornaments is, where a moderate degree of elevation and passion is predominant; and there they contribute to the embellishment of discourse, only when there is a basis "Anthares had from Argos travell'd far, In this translation, much of the beauty of the original is lost. On Argos thinks, and dies,' is by no means equal to 'dulcis moriens reminiscitur Argos.' As he dies he remembers his beloved Argos.' It is indeed observable, that in most of those tender and pathetic passages, which do so much honour to Virgil, that great poet expresses nimself with the utmost simplicity; as Te, dulcis conjux, te solo in littore secum, Te veniente die, te decedente canebat. GEORG. IV. And so in that moving prayer of Evander, upon his parting with his son Pallas At vos, O Superi! et Divům tu maxime rector. Jupiter, Arcadii quæso miserescite regis, |