Analysis. One would imagine that the author of the Rehearsal had in view such unnatural composition. But we cannot help being surprised that Addison did not profit by his remarks. "Now here she must make a simile," says Mr. Bays. "Where's the necessity of that?" replies Mr. Smith. "Because she's surprised; that's a general rule; you must ever make a simile when you are surprised; 'tis the new way of writing."

289. But although such deliberate and highly-finished comparisons are inconsistent with every violent exertion of passion, yet short similes, adapted entirely to the purpose of illustration, may appear in the most passionate scenes.

Illus. There is scarcely a tragedy in any language, in which passion assumes so high a tone, and is so well supported, as in the Moor of Venice; and yet, in one of the most passionate scenes of that passionate tragedy, no reader can hesitate about the propriety of introducing two similes, besides several bold metaphors.

Example. Othello thus deliberates, in the deepest agitation, about the murder of his wife, on account of her supposed infidelity:

?

"It is the cause, my soul,

Let me not name it to you, ye chaste stars!
It is the cause ;-yet I'll not shed her blood,
Nor scar that whiter skin of hers than snow,
And smooth as monumental alabaster;
Yet she must die, else she'll betray more men.
Put out the light, and then put out thy light.
If I quench thee, thou flaming minister,
I can again thy flaming light restore,
Should I repent; but once put out thy light,
Thou cunningest pattern of excelling nature,
I know not where is the Promethean heat
That can thy light relumine.

When I have pluck'd thy rose,

I cannot give it vital growth again;
It needs must wither.""

Analysis. The comparisons of the skin of Desdemona to snow in point of whiteness, and to alabaster in point of smoothness, are admirably adapted to improve our ideas of her beauty, and consequently to heighten the tide of the Moor's distress, in being obliged to put to death, from principles of honour, a woman he had so much reason to admire. The meditation on the resemblance between her life and the light of a taper is striking and melancholy: and the comparison between her death and the plucking of a rose is perfectly concordant with the same sentiments.

Corol. Short similes, which aid the impression by rendering our conceptions more vivid and significant, are therefore consistent with the highest swell of passion.

CHAPTER IV.

PERSONIFICATION.

290. PERSONIFICATION, or Prosopopeia, is a figure which consists in ascribing life and action to inanimate objects. It has its origin in the influence that imagination and passion have upon our perceptions and opinions.

Illus. If our perceptions and opinions were dictated and regulated entirely by the understanding, nothing could appear more whimsical and absurd than to confound so far one of the capital distinctions in nature, as to interchange the properties of animated and inanimated substances, and to ascribe sentiment and action, not only to vegetables, but to earth, fire, water, and every other existence most remote from activity and sensibility. Strange, however, as this practice may appear to reason, such is the ascendency of imagination and passion, that nothing is more frequent and meritorious with several sorts of writers, particularly orators and poets.

Example 1. Anthony, in Shakspeare, thus addresses the dead body of Cæsar:

"O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth!"

2. "The sword of Gaul," says Ossian, " trembles at his side, and longs to glitter in his hand."

3. "Ye woods and wilds! whose melancholy gloom
Accords with my soul's sadness, and draws forth

The voice of sorrow from my bursting heart." Lady Randolph.

291. Not only the inanimate parts of nature are personified, but the qualities and members of the body; even abstract ideas have sometimes conferred upon them the same important prerogative.

Illus. Thus, hope and fear, love and hatred, the head, the hands, the feet, prosperity and adversity, are often addressed as independent living agents.

Scholium. Human nature is a very compounded constitution, of which the several parts strongly influence one another. All mankind have remarked the singular power which affection and passion assume over our actions and our opinions. When we wish to believe any relation, or to perform any action, we seldom want reasons to persuade us that our opinions are well founded, and that our conduct is right. Affection, or interest, guide our notions and behaviour in the affairs of life; imgaination and passion affect the sentiments that we entertain in matters of taste.

292. These faculties suggest a division of personification into two kinds; the first called descriptive, which is addressed chiefly to the imagination: the second, passionate, the object of which is to afford gratification to the passions.

Illus. 1. The conception that we entertain of the former of these kinds, amounts not to conviction that life and intelligence are really communicated to the personified object; but the conception we form of the latter seems to amount to conviction, at least for a short time.

2. When Thomson personifies the seasons, when Milton calls Shakspeare fancy's child, when the ocean is said to smile, and the torrent to roar, the most delicate imagination is not so far misled as to conclude that there is any thing real in these suppositions. They are figures conjured up entirely to gratify the imagination; and for that reason, examples of this sort are denominated descriptive personifications; because they are concordant with the tone of vivacity suggested by description. (Illus. Art. 35.)

3. But, in two of the instances already quoted, where the persons who personify are agitated by real passion, when Antony addresses the dead body of Cæsar; and Lady Randolph converses with the woods and wilds; the mind is affected in a much more sensible manner, and conceives for a moment that the deception is complete. As soon as passion subsides, and reflection recovers ascendency, the delusion disappears, and the fiction is detected. But as this momentary gratification is highly agreeable, and even the reflection upon it is attended with pleasure, it is proper it should be distinguished from the former species of personification; and for this reason it has been called passionate.

293. As descriptive personification is derived from the disposition of the imagination to indulge in such views of nature and art, as tend most to gratify itself; so life and motion are capital sources of pleasure, in the contemplation of the objects with which we are surrounded.

Illus. 1. We feel a superior satisfaction in surveying the life of animals, than that of vegetables; and we receive more gratification in contemplating the life of vegetables, than those parts of nature which are commonly deemed inanimate. We receive even higher pleasure in beholding those animals of the same species, which are endowed with greater degrees of life and motion.

2. In a word, in all views of nature at rest, as in landscapes; and in all views of nature, in motion; the more numerous the objects are, either possessed of life, though not in motion, or possessed of life, and actually in motion, the greater, in proportion, is the power of the view to charm the imagination, and to captivate the spectator. It is this tendency of the imagination, to delight itself, not only with the contemplation of life, but of the best species of life, that of intelligence, which induces it to extend this property as widely as possible, because, by doing so, it extends the sphere of its own enjoyment. It is not content, accordingly, with the contemplation of all the real life and action which fall under its observation; it makes vigorous exertions to communicate these valuable qualities to many other objects to which Providence has denied them; to vegetables, to ideas, and even to matter totally inert.

294. The influence of this figure is so general and powerful as to constitute the very essence of compositions addressed to the imagination.

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

me.

Example 1. Thus the author of the Seasons:

"Now vivid stars shine out, in brightening files,
And boundless Æther 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.

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; and 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 sin."

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.

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."

All nature is

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 ye 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