which are not commonly associated, but he must not admit any thing that contradicts common sense and experience. The conception must be perfect and distinct: this is the basis of perspicuity. He who does not himself clearly understand his own meaning, can have no right to expect that his read er will. We must accustom ourselves to separate our ideas from one another before we attempt to clothe them in language. Variety of conception must be added to perspicuity. "It is this which raises a writer of true genius above one of moderate abilities. The field of nature lies open to all men, but it is only the man whose powers are vigorous and commanding, that can combine ideas with the diversity which is necessary to produce a strong impression upon the imagination. To discern, not only the obvious properties of things, but their more hidden qualities and relations; to perceive resemblances which are not commonly perceived; to combine images, or sentiments which are not commonly combined; to exhibit, in description, persons and things with all the interesting varieties of form or action, of which they are capable, are offices of genius and it is only in the degree in which these marks of genius appear in any literary production, that it can be pronounced excellent."

In every good composition, there must be unity of design : some leading object, to which every part should have a relation. Whatever has no tendency to illustrate the subject, weakens the general effect; and to every other excellence must be added that of utility. This is the chief end of every literary effort, but it must be taken in an enlarged and liberal view; and it must be remembered, that whatever is calculated to afford innocent and rational amusement, as well as that which tends to enlighten the understanding, and improve the heart and morals, may be pronounced useful.

Next in point of importance to the thoughts themselves, is the arrangement in which they are to be disposed. This requires the exercise of much attention and accurate judgment. The first conceptions which accidental association may raise

in the mind, are not likely to proceed spontaneously in that order which is most natural, and best adapted to form a regular piece. It will, therefore, frequently be an author's inquiry, as he advances in the progress of his work, whether the method and plan that he has adopted, are the best suited to attain the end he has in view, and whether all the sentiments contained in it are not only just, but pertinent, and in their proper place.

may

With regard to expression, the first quality is purity, which consists in such words, and such a grammatical construction of sentences, as are agreeable to the analogy of the language, and to the general usage of accurate writers. The second kind of excellence is perspicuity, which, as we have seen, requires precision in the use of terms, and accuracy in the structure of sentences: it requires not only that what is written be understood, but that it cannot possibly be misunderstood. An author's style, is the manner in which he writes, in the same way as a painter's style, is the manner in which he paints; in both, conception and expression are equally concerned. No one can write well, who has not learned to think well, to arrange his thoughts methodically, and to express them with propriety. See Aikin's Letters to his Son; and “An Essay on Reading Works of Taste," prefixed to Enfield's Speaker.

CHAP. IX.

ON FIGURATIVE LANGUAGE.

Figures, the most simple form of speech-Divided into classes-The tropes of the ancients-Comparisons-Similies-Metaphors.

A STRONG and vivid imagination is not, either in speaking or writing, satisfied with bringing before the hearer's or reader's mind, all the circumstances immediately connected with the principal subject, and placing them in a striking point of view it borrows colours and forms from other objects, to embellish and adorn the picture: this is done by means of figurative language. It is called figurative, because the author's meaning is expressed, not by direct phraseology, but under the image of something else. The assertion, that " A good man enjoys satisfaction and hope in the midst of affliction," is an observation expressed in the simplest manner possible; but when it is said, "That, to the upright there ariseth light in darkness," the same idea is expressed in figurative language; that is, light is put in the place of satisfaction and hope, and darkness is used to suggest the idea of adversity. The Psalmist also, in his description of the virtuous character, makes use of highly figurative language: "He shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither."

Though figures imply a deviation from what may be reckoned the most simple form of speech, yet they are so far from being uncommon, that on very many occasions they are the most natural, and the most common method of uttering our sentiments. It is impossible to compose a discourse of any length without using them very frequently: they occur even in didactic subjects. The origin of figures has, by some, been referred to the poverty of language; but by others, either to the sport of fancy, or to the expression of passion or enthusiasm. At any rate, and upon any theory, figures must be regarded as an important part of that language which nature seems to dictate to man. They are not the result of long study; nor the invention of schools: the most illiterate speak in figures, as often as the most learned. Imagery, especially that derived from natural objects, is employed by the rudest and most savage nations, not from necessity, but as a matter of choice. Specimens of this kind of ornament abound in the speeches of the Indian chiefs in North America, and among the earliest productions of the Arabians. The oldest writings with which we are acquainted, namely, these of the Hebrew Scriptures, are full of figures; these are derived from those objects with which, from the time and situation of their country and nation the sacred writers were most familiar.

Figures have been described to be language that is prompted either by the imagination or the passions. They are divided into two great classes, viz. figures of words and figures of thoughts. The former are called tropes, a Greek term that signifies the turning of a word from its original meaning, and they consist in a word's being employed to signify something that is different from its original and primitive meaning; so that if the word be changed, the figure is destroyed: thus in the passage already quoted, "Light ariseth to the upright in darkness," the trope consists in the words Light and Darkness being substituted, the one for satisfaction and hope, and the other for affliction, on account of some analogy which they are supposed to bear to these conditions of life. Figures of

VOL. I.

thought, suppose the words to be used in their proper and literal meaning; and the figure consists in the turn of thought, as is the case in exclamations, interrogations, apostrophes, and comparisons. This distinction is of no great use, nor is it of much importance, whether we assign to any particular mode of expression the name of trope or figure, provided we remember, that figurative language imports some colouring of the imagination, or some emotion of passion.

Ancient writers classed as tropes, the metaphor, metonymy, synecdoche, and irony: with them, figures were almost innumerable. It is not necessary to follow rhetoricians in all their several distinctions; we shall very briefly proceed to treat of those forms of expression which are suggested by the relations of resemblance, contiguity, and cause and effect. From the relation of resemblance proceed the comparison or simile, the metaphor, the allegory, and the allusion.

The COMPARISON is the first and most natural of all rhetorical figures. Comparisons serve two purposes: when addressed to the understanding, their object is to instruct; when to the heart, their purpose is to please. Objects of different senses cannot be compared together; because such objects being entirely separated from each other, have no circumstance in common to admit either resemblance or contrast. Objects of hearing may be compared, and so also of the other senses; but the chief sources of comparisons are objects of sight, as being more distinct and lively than those of any other sense. Similes are not the natural language of passion; they will not serve to express the vehement emotions of the mind; for if, whilst the mind is vehemently moved, the imagination is disposed to be excursive, it will drop the words expressing the resemblance, and adopt the metaphor. Hence the difference between a simile and metaphor: in the former, the resemblance is brought before the reader's view, by comparing the ideas together, and by words formally expressing a likeness; a metaphor is a comparison, without the words expressing resemblance. A distinction may likewise be esta