unchaste: but chastity is cold in a metaphorical sense; and this verbal resemblance, in the hurry and glow of composing, has been thought a sufficient foundation for the simile. Such phantom similes are mere witticisms, which ought to have no quarter, except where purposely introduced to provoke laughter.”*

METAPHOR.

ONE of the most pleasing exercises of the imagination, is that in which it is employed in comparing distinct ideas, and discovering their various resemblances. There is no simple perception of the mind that is not capable of an infinite number of considerations in reference to other objects; and it is in the novelty and variety of those unexpected connexions, that the richness of a writer's genius is chiefly displayed. A vigorous and lively fancy does not tamely confine itself to the idea which lies before it, but looks beyond the immediate object of its contemplation, and observes how it stands in relation to numberless others. It is the prerogative of the human mind thus to bring its images together, and compare the several circumstances of similitude which they present. By these means eloquence exercises a kind of magic power; it can raise innumerable beauties from the most barren subjects, and impart the grace of novelty to the most common. The imagination is thus kept awake by the most agreeable emotion, and entertained with a thousand different views both of art and nature, which still terminate at the principal object. For this reason, the metaphor is generally preferred to the simile, as a more pleasing mode of illustra

Kames's Elements of Criticism.

tion. In the former, the action of the mind is less languid, as it is employed at the very first instant in comparing the semblance with the object which it represents; whereas in the latter, its operations are more slow, as it must first contemplate the principal object, and afterwards the corresponding image.

A metaphor differs from a simile in form only, not in substance, comparison being the foundation of both. In a simile, the two subjects are kept distinct in the expression as well as in the thought; in a metaphor, they are kept distinct in the thought, but not in the expression. A hero resembles a lion; and upon that resemblance many similes have been founded by Homer and other poets. But let us invoke the aid of the imagination, and figure the hero to be a lion, instead of only resembling one; by that variation the simile is converted into a metaphor, which is supported by describing all the qualities of the lion that resemble those of the hero. The poet, by figuring his hero to be a lion, proceeds to describe the lion in appearance, but in reality he is all the while describing the hero; and his description becomes peculiarly beautiful, by expressing the virtues and qualities of the hero in terms which properly belong not to him, but to the lion. When I say of some great minister, "that he upholds the state like a pillar which supports the weight of a whole edifice," I evidently frame a comparison; but when I say of the same minister, "that he is a pillar of the state," this is not a comparison but a metaphor. The comparison between the minister and a pillar is instituted in the mind, but without the aid of words which denote comparison. The comparison is only insinuated, not expressed; the one object is supposed to be so like the other, that, without formally drawing the comparison, the name of the one may be substituted for that of the other.

A metaphor always implies comparison, and is, in that respect, a figure of thought; yet, as the words in which it is conveyed, are not taken literally, but changed from their proper to a figurative sense, the metaphor is

commonly ranked among tropes, or figures of words. But provided the nature of it be well understood, it is of little importance whether we denominate it a trope or a figure.

Although the word metaphor has been confined to the expression of resemblance between two objects, yet it is sometimes used in a looser and more extended sense: it denotes the application of a term in any figurative signification, whether the figure be founded on resemblance, or on some other relation which two objects bear to each other. When grey hairs are substituted for old age, some writers would call this a metaphor, though in propriety of language it is only what rhetoricians term a metonomy; that is, the effect for the cause. Grey hairs are the effect of old age, but they do not bear any resemblance to old age.

Every writer ought to become a painter as far as the subject which he treats will permit him. Our thoughts are susceptible of different colourings: taken separately, each has a colour proper to itself; when combined, they lend each other mutual light and shade; and the art of the writer consists in skilfully combining them. Of all the figures of speech, none approaches so near to painting as metaphor: its peculiar effect is to add light and strength to description; to render intellectual ideas visible to the eye, by giving them colour and substance, and other sensible qualities. To produce this effect however, a very delicate hand is required; for, by the smallest degree of inaccuracy, we are in danger of introducing confusion, instead of promoting perspicuity. There is nothing in which a good writer is so much distinguished from one of an ordinary class, as in the conduct and application of this figure. He is at liberty to range through the whole compass of creation, and collect his images from every object which surrounds him: but although he may thus be amply furnished with materials, great judgment is required in selecting them; for, to render a metaphor perfect, it must be not only apposite, but pleasing, it must entertain, as well as enlighten.

I. Metaphors should be suited to the nature of the subject of which we treat; neither too many, nor too gay, nor too elevated for it; that we may neither attempt to force the subject, by means of them, into a degree of elevation which is not consistent with it; nor on the other hand, allow it to sink below its proper dignity. These directions apply to figurative language in general, and should always be kept in view. Some metaphors, which it would be absurd to employ in prose, are allowable, and even beautiful, in poetry: some may be graceful in orations, which would be very improper in historical or philosophical composition. Figures are the dress of our sentiments. There is a natural congruity between the dress and the character or rank of the person by whom it is worn. The same is the case with regard to figures and sentiments.

For different styles with different subjects sort,

As different garbs with country, town, and court.

The excessive or unseasonable employment of figures is mere foppery in writing: it gives a puerile air to composition, and diminishes rather than exalts the dignity of a subject. For as, in real life, true dignity is founded on character, not on dress and parade, so the dignity of composition must arise from intelligence and thought, not from ornament. "There is," says Dr. Brown, "a certain taste in character and in moral judgment, as well as in the fine arts, which can be acquired only by a sound understanding, improved by extensive observation, and by opportunities of contemplating the best models of virtue which our present degraded and miserable state can afford. Striking, but incoherent design, tumid and extravagant diction, passion affected and ill placed, glaring colouring, and meretricious ornament of every kind, are, by uncultivated minds, preferred to the just proportion, the modest simplicity, and the chaste elegance of nature."

Metaphors and other figures should, upon no occasion, be scattered with too profuse a hand; and they should never be incongruous with the train of our

sentiment. Nothing can be more unnatural than for a writer to carry on a process of reasoning, in the same kind of figurative language which he would employ in description. When he reasons, we look only for perspicuity; when he describes, we expect embellishment; when he divides or relates, we desire plainness and simplicity. One of the greatest secrets in composition, is to know when to be simple. This always lends a heightening to ornament, in its proper place. The judicious disposition of shade makes the light and colouring strike the more. He is truly eloquent, who can discourse of humble subjects in a plain style, who can treat important ones with dignity, and speak of things which are of a middle nature, in a temperate strain. For one who, upon no occasion, can express himself in a calm, orderly, distinct manner, but begins to be on fire before his readers are prepared to kindle along with him, has the appearance of a madman raving among persons who enjoy the use of their reason, or of a drunkard reeling in the midst of sober company.

The following quotation affords an instance of metaphorical language rising to bombast :

The bill underwent a great number of alterations and amendments, which were not effected without violent contest: at length however, it was floated through both houses, on the tide of a great majority, and steered into the safe harbour of royal approbation.— Smollett's Hist. of England.

II. Metaphors should never be drawn from objects which are mean or disagreeable. Even when introduced to vilify and degrade any subject, an author should study never to be nauseous in his allusions; but in subjects of dignity, it is an unpardonable fault to employ metaphors which are mean and vulgar. Nature opens all her stores to us, and admits us to gather from all sensible objects, whatever can illustrate intellectual or moral ideas. Not only the gay and splendid objects of sense, but the grave, the terrifying, and even the gloomy and dismal, may on different occasions, be introduced into figures with propriety. But we must always be cautious and select in our choice.