Illus. Strip the Seasons of Thomson, and the Georgics of Virgil, of this sprightly ornament, and you will reduce the two most beautiful actic poems the world ever saw, to dry, uninteresting, uninstructive details of natural history. You cannot open either of these performences without meeting examples; I present the first that occurred to

ше.

Example 1. Thus the author of the Seasons:

"Now vivid stars shine out, in brightening files,
And boundless Ether glows, till the fair moon
Shows her broad visage in the crimson'd East;
Now stooping seems to kiss the passing cloud,
Now o'er the pure cerulean rides sublime.
Nature, great parent! whose directing hand
Rolls round the seasons of the changing year,
How mighty, how majestic, are thy works!
With what a pleasant dread they swell the soul,
That sees astonish'd, and astonish'd sings!
You too, ye winds, that now begin to blow
With boist'rous sweep, I raise my voice to you.
Where are your stores, you viewless beings, say
Where your aerial magazines reserved
Against the day of tempest perilous ?"

2. The elegant Virgilian muse thus sings:

"Interea Dryadum sylvas, saltusque sequamur
Intactos, tua Mæcenas haud mollia jussa.
Te sine nil altum, mens inchoat; en age segnes
Rumpe moras; vocat ingenti clamore Citheron
Taygetique canes, domitrixque Epidaurus equorum,
Et vox assensu nemorum ingeminate remugit."

Analysis. Every reader will perceive how much these passages are enlivened by the personifications with which they abound. Every thing appears to live and act, and the imagination is charmed with a succession of vivid pictures.

Obs. Essays of all kinds admit the use of this figure, and even history on some occasions. It is frequently found in oratory, particularly that of the ancients; and it is sometimes discovered in moral discourses among the moderns.

295. Passionate personification results from the momentary conviction which the violence of passion is qualified to inspire, that the inanimate objects which engage its attention are endowed with sensibility and intelligence.

Illus. The passions assume the most decisive influence over our opinions and actions, and, on some occasions, totally discompose and perplex the mind. They pull down reason and conscience from their throne, and usurp such an absolute dominion in the human frame, that the waves of the sea in a storm are not more completely subject to the turbulence of the winds.

and

2. If the passions are capable of producing these prodigious effects, we will not hesitate to allow them that sway which is requisite to account for passionate personification. But in whatever manner we shall account for the phenomenon, we cannot doubt of its reality; that all passions, when excited to extremity, possess this power, is evident from the high relish which we entertain for such examples, when properly exhibited.

Example 1. Fear prompts this figure; Milton, speaking of the eating of the forbidden fruit, thus sings :

"Earth trembled from her entrails, as again

In pangs, and nature gave a second groan:

Sky lower'd, and, muttering thunder, some sad drops
Wept, at completing of the mortal sín."

Example 2. Grief in solitude naturally assumes a similar phraseology. Thus Almeria, in the Mourning Bride:

"O Earth! behold I kneel upon thy bosom.

Open thy bowels of compassion, take

Into thy womb the last and most forlorn

Of all thy race. Hear me, thou common parent;

I have no parent else. Be thou a mother,

And step between me and the curse of him

Who was, who was, but is no more a father."

3. Attachment utters itself in a similar manner. Shakspeare makes Richard II. vent his feelings to the following purpose, after landing in England from his expedition in Ireland:

"I weep for joy

To stand upon my kingdom once again;
Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,

Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs;

As a long parted mother with her child

Plays fondly, with her tears, and smiles in meeting;
So weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth."

4. Hatred takes hold of the same species of expression. Satan thus addresses the sun, in Paradise Lost:

"O thou! that, with surpassing glory crown'd,
Look'st from thy sole dominion, like the god
Of this new world, at whose sight all the stars
Hide their diminished heads; to thee I call,
But with no friendly voice, and add thy name,
O Sun! to tell thee how I hate thy beams,

That bring to my remembrance from what state
I fell. How glorious once above thy sphere!"

5. Joy also delights in personification. Adam's exultation at his first interview with Eve is beautifully painted by Milton. All nature is alive to share their happiness.

To the nuptial bower

I led her, blushing like the morn; all heaven,
And happy constellations, on that hour
Shed their selectest influence; the earth
Gave signs of gratulation, and each hill;
Joyous the birds, fresh gales, and gentle airs
Whisper'd it to the woods, and from their wings
Flung rose, flung odours from the spicy shrub
Disporting! Till the amorous bird of night,
Sung spousal, and bid haste the evening star
On his hill-top, to light the bridal lamp."

6. The impatience of Adam to know his origin, is supposed to prompt the personification of all the objects he beheld, in order to procure information.

Thou Sun, said I, fair light!

And thou enlightened Earth, so fresh and gay!
Ye hills and dales, ye rivers, woods, and plains,
And ve that live, and move, fair creatures, tell,
Tell, if you saw, how came I thus, how here ?"

Scholium. These examples evince, that a great part of the most expressive language of passion is personification, and that it is peculiarly adapted to the more interesting scenes of life, where the passions are

wound up to the highest pitch. We should indeed naturally expect this consequence from the violent disorder of the mind in which it can be relished; for, without ascending to that derangement which infers lunacy and distraction, reason can scarcely offer a greater sacrifice to passion, than to admit the order of nature to be reversed, and inanimate existence to be endowed with life and intelligence.

Example 7. All the best tragedies, all the most passionate scenes in the most finished epic poems, bear ample testimony to its truth. We shall exhibit only another quotation from the most perfect play of the most complete painter of the language of passion. King Lear, in the height of his distress, personifies, and rails against the elements, which he considers as combined with his daughters to procure his destruction. "I tax not you, ye elements, with unkindness; I never gave you kingdoms, call'd you children; You owe me no subscription; then let fall Your horrible displeasure. Here I stand

your

A poor, infirm, weak, and despis'd old man!
But yet I call you servile ministers,

brave ;

That have, with two pernicious daughters, joined
Your high engendered battles 'gainst a head

So old and white as this."

296. In treating of gender, (Art. 56. Illus. 3. and 4.) we took notice, that the English language possessed a singular advantage in marking personifications, by employing the pronouns significant of sex. In all other cases, inanimate objects must be denominated by the neuter pronoun; and, in other languages, no distinction of gender can take place in personifications, because the genders of their nouns are invariable. But a writer in English is left at liberty to adopt either the male or female sex; and it is of some consequence to attend to this circumstance, because improprieties are not

uncommon.

Example. Milton has chosen unsuitable genders for the following personifications. Of Satan, he sings,

His form

Had not lost all her original brightness,

Nor appear'd less than archangel ruin'd."

Analysis. If the personification of the form of Satan was admissible, it should certainly have been masculine. A female form, conjoined to the person of a male, seems to approach the ridiculous. (See Anal. Ex. Art. 297.)

297. A capital error in personification, is to deck the figure with fantastic and trifling circumstances. A practice of this sort dissolves the potent charm which enchants and deceives the reader, and either leaves him dissatisfied, or excites, perhaps, his risibility.

Example. Shakspeare will furnish an example of this sort.

"She shall be dignified with this high honour,
To bear my lady's train; lest the base earth
Should from her vesture chance to steal a kiss,

And of so great a favour growing proud,
Disdain to root the summer smelling flower,
And make rough winter everlastingly."

Analysis. Here the earth, which we usually call" our mother," (Ex. 2. Art. 295.) is degraded by being termed “base," (Ex. 3. Art. 295.) On the supposition that the earth is a person, it was competent to the poet to give her lips " to steal a kiss." But then to fancy the earth "growing proud" of this "favour," and disdaining "to root the summer smelling flower," is a ridicule of all figurative communication; since, as flowers would embellish her bosom, she prefers, to the pomp of dress, the pleasure of a kiss. But we may surmise that the poet personifies the earth as a male, since it is rather a masculine prerogative" to steal a kiss." Now, "so great a favour," in place of cooling his heart, was calculated to inflame it; therefore to imagine that the effect would be "to make rough winter everlastingly," marks something more than a defective taste in the poet.

298. Another error, frequent in descriptive personifica tions, consists in introducing them when the subject of discussion is destitute of dignity, and the reader is not prepared to relish them.

Example. One can scarcely peruse the following quotations with composure. Thomson thus personifies and connects the bodily appetites, and their gratifications.

"Then sated Hunger bids his brother Thirst
Produce the mighty bowl;

Nor wanting is the brown October, drawn,
Mature and perfect, from his dark retreat
Of thirty years; and now his honest front
Flames in the light refulgent."

Example 2. Shakspeare, sometimes great in errors as in beauties, far outdoes Thomson. Speaking of Antony and Cleopatra:

299. So also, addressing the several parts of one's body, as if they were animated, is not congruous to the dignity of passion.

Example. For this reason, we must condemn the following passage in Pope's very beautiful poem of Eloise* to Abelard:

"Dear fatal name! rest ever unrevealed,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence sealed.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where, mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:
Oh! write it not, my hand!—his name appears
Already written :-blot it out, my tears!"

Analysis. Here are several different objects and parts of the body personified; and each of them is addressed or spoken to; let us consider with what propriety. The first is, the name of Abelard: "Dear

* Her country calls her Eloise, Pope Eloisa: I write the orthography of either.

fatal name! rest ever," &c. To this, no reasonable objection can be made. For, as the name of a person often stands for the person himself, and suggests the same ideas, it can bear this personification with sufficient dignity. Next, Eloise speaks to herself; and personifies her heart for this purpose: "Hide it, my heart, within that close," &c. As the heart is a dignified part of the human frame, and is often put for the mind or affections, this also may pass without blame. But, wher from her heart she passes to her hand, and tells her hand not to write his name, this is forced and unnatural; a personified hand is low, and not in the style of true passion; and the figure becomes still worse, when, in the last place, she exhorts her tears to blot out what her hand had written. "Oh! write it not," &c. There is, in these two lines, an air of epigrammatic conceit, which native passion never suggests; and which is altogether unsuitable to the tenderness which breathes through the rest of that excellent poem.

300. In prose compositions, this figure requires to be used with still greater moderation and delicacy. The same liberty is not allowed to the imagination there, as in poetry. The same assistances cannot be obtained for raising passion to its proper height by the force of numbers, and the glow of style.

CHAPTER V.

ALLEGORY.

301. ALLEGORY is a species of writing, in which one thing is expressed, and another thing is understood. The analogy is intended to be so obvious, that the reader cannot miss the application, but he is left to draw the proper conclusion for his own use.

Ilus. It is for this reason employed chiefly when a writer desires to communicate some important intelligence or advice, but is not permitted to deliver it in plain terms. It is also used for ornament, or to convey instruction so as to interest the imagination, and flatter the understanding, by giving the reader the appearance of instructing himself.

Example 1. A finer and more correct allegory is not to be found than the following, in which a vineyard is made to represent God's people, the Jews. "Thou hast brought a vine out of Egypt; thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it. Thou preparedst room before it, and didst cause it to take deep root, and it filled the land. The hills were covered with the shadow of it, and the boughs thereof were like the goodly cedars. She sent out her boughs unto the sea, and her branches unto the river. Why hast thou then broken down her hedges, so that all they which pass by the way do pluck her? The boar out of the wood doth waste it, and the wild beast of the field doth devour it. Return, we beseech thee, O God of hosts; look down from heaven,