Part 6

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: