cidental similarity to the common phrase 'direct and inverse;' 'the intense rays of a tropical sun' is quite enough.

8. The author adds new circumstances to the picture of the desert. "Instead of refreshing breezes, the winds, particularly from the "south-west, diffuse a noxious and even deadly vapor; the hillocks "of sand which they alternately raise and scatter, are compared to "the billows of the ocean, (and) whole caravans, whole armies, "have been lost and buried in the whirlwind." The contrasting phrase, 'Instead of refreshing breezes' is not here required; the main expression 'noxious and deadly vapor' is enough; the qualifying expression—' particularly from the south-west '—is a piece of extra information that noway fits into the picture. The second member of the sentence, 'the hillocks of sand,' &C., is not in its place; it belongs to the description of the surface, and the connection with the wind regards mechanical violence and not poisonous qualities. If the point must come in here, it should be in full subordination to the main subject of the sentence, the winds; such too is their violence, that the hillocks of sand alternately raised and scattered by them, are compared to the billows of the ocean; whole caravans," &c. Properly, this should have preceded the other member of the sentence.

9. "The common, benefits of water are an object of desire and แ contest; and such is the scarcity of wood, that some art is requi"site to preserve and propagate the element of fire." Or, "Water is an object of contest; and wood is so scarce," &c.

Extract VIII.—I quote, from Sir Walter Scott, three short passages, also bearing upon the Descriptive Art.

The first is a description of Staffa.

1. "We visited Staffa and Iona. (The former) 'Staffa' is one "of the most extraordinary places I ever beheld. It is a cathedral "arch, scooped by the hand of Nature [this stock metaphor has "here a certain keeping), equal in dimensions and in regularity to "the most magnificent aisle of a Gothic cathedral." This is a stroke of comparison that gives the general view at once.

"The sea rolls up to the extremity in (most) tremendous majes"ty, and with a voice like ten thousand giants shouting at once." A very powerful description, both to the eye and to the ear.

"It exceeded, in my mind, every description I had heard of it; or rather, the appearance of the cavern, oomposed entirely of ba"saltic pillars as high as the roof of a cathedral, and running deep

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"into the rock, eternally swept by a deep and swelling sea, and "paved, as it were, with ruddy marble, baffles all description." This is a repetition of the sketch, with new particulars, making the description as a whole somewhat loose, although redeemed by the effectiveness of those particulars. Subjective effects are largely made use of. The author might have combined the two separate descriptions into one compact picture, such as the reader would more easily realize and remember, instead of these desultory flashes.

"You can walk along the broken pillars, with some difficulty, "and in some places with a little danger, as far as the farthest ex"tremity." The 'broken pillars' are made more vivid to the fancy, by the individualizing circumstance of walking upon them.

"Boats also can come in below when the sea is placid, which "is seldom the case." Another individualizing aid to the description. This sentence would be improved by a periodic arrangement, which would also place the qualifying clause first. "When the sea is placid, which is seldom, boats also can come in below.”

'the' set

2. The next extract is a panoramic sketch of Edinburgh. "If I were to choose a spot from which the rising or "ting sun could be seen to the greatest possible advantage, it would "be that wild path winding round the foot of the high belt of "semicircular rocks, called Salisbury Crags, and marking the verge "of the steep descent which slopes down into the glen on the "south-eastern side of the city of Edinburgh." The separate features in this description, 'wild path,' 'winding round,' 'high belt,' &C., are vividly expressed, but the arrangement is not such as to put the reader in possession of a definite picture. Before introducing a 'wild path,' it was requisite to assign its whereabouts. So with nearly all the other particulars; they are here set up in a vacuity, and we have to wait for what follows to give them a place. The author should have started from the ground where Edinburgh is built, given the relation of Arthur's Seat to the town and the surroundings; he might then have figured the hill, and, in the order of detail, he would have come upon Salisbury Crags and the winding path.

"The prospect, in its general outline, commands a close-built, "high-piled city, stretching itself out beneath in a form, which to a romantic imagination [the author's own] may be supposed to "resemble (that of) a dragon;—now a noble arm of the sea, with "its rocks, isles, distant shores, and boundary of mountains; and 66 now a fair fertile country, varied with hill, dale, and rock, and

"skirted by the picturesque ridge of the Pentland Mountains." The same remarks apply here; the individual features are strikingly given, but with an absence of cohering plan. The view is not a 'prospect,' but a panorama. The author begins well from Edinburgh itself, and sketches its aspect with his usual happy touches. The language that follows is suited to a mountain-top prospect, the spectator remaining still, and allowing his gaze to wander here and there irregularly. The reader is left to infer, by putting all things together, what is not expressed, that, in following the path, the view of Edinburgh disappears, and is followed by the Firth of Forth; while, by moving still farther, the prospect is changed to the varied plains on the south, terminating in the Pentlands.

"But as the path gently circles around the base of the cliff, the "prospect, composed as it is of these enchanting and sublime ob"jects, changes at every step, and presents them blended with, or "divided from, each other in every possible variety which can "gratify the eye and the imagination." It is hard to divine the author's purpose in writing this sentence. It may be that to the actual spectator, the blending of the scenes, or the variety of the groupings, gives pleasure; but no description can transfer to the readers such a conception as to enable them to think of it with pleasure. It is a mistake in art to suppose that the pleasing effects of description can be produced by means of the language of associated feelings, without a basis of vivid intellectual conception.

"When a piece of scenery so beautiful, yet so varied,—so ex"citing by its intricacy, and yet so sublime,—is lighted by the tints "of morning or of evening, and displays all the variety of shadowy 66 depth exchanged with partial brilliancy, which gives character "even to the tamest of landscapes, the effect approaches near to "enchantment." The same criticism is applicable here. It is impossible, by the help of the language given, to realize the scene so as to be affected in the manner stated. Morning tints, shadowy depth, and partial brilliancy, abstracted from any real scene in the mind's grasp, cannot be expected, by the mere mention of them, to cause any enchantment; nor does it supply the deficiency to say that if we saw the reality we should be enchanted. The author has ventured into the province where the painter operates with ease, and the poet with difficulty—the province of minute landscape description; and he has neglected the precautions whereby alone a poet can hope to attain the success possible to his art.

3. We shall give another quotation from Scott; the vivid de

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scription of an Interior by the help of individualizing circumstances. It is a hovel, the retreat of Balfour of Burley. The principal aim of the passage is evidently to delineate Balfour himself; but, in so doing, the author sketches, with great force and distinctness, some parts of his chamber.

"Upon entering the place of refuge, he found Balfour seated on "his humble couch, with a pocket Bible open in his hand, which "he seemed to study with intense meditation. His broadsword, "which he had unsheathed in the first alarm, at the arrival of the dragoons, lay naked across his knees, and the little taper that "stood beside him on the old chest, which served the purpose of a "table, threw a partial and imperfect light upon those stern and "harsh features in which ferocity was rendered more solemn and dignified by a wild cast of tragic enthusiasm. His brow was that "of one in whom some strong o'ermastering principle has over"whelmed all other passions and feelings,—like the swell of a high "spring-tide, when the usual cliffs and breakers vanish from the แ "eye, and their existence is only indicated by the chafing foam of "the waves that burst and wheel over them."

The objection urged against the previous passage holds, to some extent, against this attempt at portraiture. There is very little of the actual outline, shape, and complexion, of Balfour's face—the visual representation; too much being left to the language conveying his expression to the beholder—ferocity, enthusiasm, over-mastering principle, he. The closing simile is in itself striking and powerful; but the thing compared is shadowy and uncertain, and demanded a similitude to enlighten the understanding, rather than one solely to stir the feelings.

It will be seen, from our next example, that the defects of Scott, in description, may be avoided by a man little, if anything, his inferior in the poetic accompaniment of the art.

EXTRACT IX.—The present extract is a specimen of Carlyle's descriptive method. His peculiarities are, to bring forward in strong relief the comprehensive aspects, to impress these by iteration and by picturesque comparisons, to use the language of the associated feelings ('beautiful country,' 'lonesome pine woods '), and, in the shape of harmonious groupings (multiplex industry, besung by rushing torrents '), to introduce some of the elements of poetry.

"Schlesien, what we call Silesia, lies in elliptic shape, spread on the top of Europe, partly girt with mountains, like the crown or

crest to that part of the Earth—highest table-land of Germany or of the Cisalpine countries, and tending rivers into all the seas.

"The summit or highest level of it is in the south-west; longest diameter is from north-west to south-east. From Crossen, whither Friedrich is now driving, to the Jablunka Pass, which issues upon Hungary, is above 250 miles; the axis, therefore, or longest diameeter, of our Ellipse we may call 250 English miles; its shortest or conjugate diameter, from Friedland in Bohemia (Wallenstein's old Friedland), by Breslau, across the Oder to the Polish Frontier, is about 100. The total area of Schlesien is counted to be some 20,000 square miles, nearly the third of England Proper.

"Schlesien—will the reader learn to call it by that name, on occasion? for in these sad Manuscripts of ours the names alternate —is a fine, fertile, useful, and beautiful Country. It leans sloping, as we hinted, to the East and to the North; a long curved buttress of Mountains ("Riesengebirge, Giant Mountains," is their bestknown name in foreign countries) holding it up on the South and West sides. This Giant-Mountain Range—which is a kind of continuation of the Saxon-Bohemian "Metal Mountains (Brzgebirge)," and of the straggling Lausitz Mountains, to westward of these— shapes itself like a bill-hook (or elliptically, as was said): handle ■and hook together may be some 200 miles in length. The precipitous side of this is, in general, turned outward, towards Bohmen, Mähren, Ungarn (Bohemia, Moravia, Hungary, in our dialects): and Schlesien lies inside, irregularly sloping down towards the Baltic and towards the utmost East. From the Bohemian side of these Mountains there rise Two Rivers—Elbe, tending for the West; Morawa, for the South: Morawa, crossing Moravia, gets into the Donau, and thence into the Black-Sea; while Elbe, after intricate adventures among the mountains, and then prosperously across the plains, is out, with its many ships, into the Atlantic. Two rivers, we say, from the Bohemian or steep side: and again, from the Silesian side, there rise other Two, the Oder and the Weichsel (Vistula); which start pretty near one another in the South-east, and, after wide windings, get both into the Baltic, at a good distance apart.

"For the first thirty, or in parts, fifty miles from the Mountains, Silesia slopes somewhat rapidly, and is still to be called a Hill-country, rugged extensive elevations diversifying it; but after that, the slope is gentle, and at length insensible, or noticeable only by the way the waters run. From the central part of it, Schlesien