in burlesque writings, or where Similies are introduced purposely to vilify and diminish an object, mean ideas should never be presented to us. Some of Homer's Comparisons have been taxed, without reason, on this account. For it is to be remembered, that the meanness or dignity of objects, depends, in a great degree, on the ideas and manners of the age wherein we live. Many Similies, therefore, drawn from the incidents of rural life, which appear low to us, had abundance of dignity in those simpler ages of antiquity.

I have now considered such of the figures of speech as seemed most to merit a full and particular discussion: Metaphor, Hyperbole, Personification, Apostrophe, and Comparison. A few more yet remain to be mentioned; the proper use and conduct of which will be easily understood from the principles already laid down.

As Comparison is founded on the resemblance, so Antithesis on the contrast or opposition of two objects. Contrast has always this effect, to make each of the contrasted objects appear in the stronger light. White, for instance, never appears so bright, as when it is opposed to black; and when both are viewed together. Antithesis, therefore, may, on many occasions, be employed to advantage, in order to strengthen the impres sion which we intend that any object should make. Thus Cicero in his oration for Milo, representing the improbability of Milo's forming a design to take away the life of Clodius, at a time when all circumstances were unfavourable to such a design, and after he had let other opportunities slip when he could have executed the same design, if he had formed it, with much more ease and safety, heightens our conviction of this improbability by a skilful use of this figure: "Quem igitur "cum omnium gratiâ interficere noluit, hunc voluit cum aliquo"rum querela? Quem jure, quem loco, quem tempore, quem im"puné, non est ausus, hunc injuriâ, iniquo loco, alieno tem46 pore, periculo capitis, non dubitavit occidere ?"* In order to

"Is it credible that, when he declined putting Clodius to death with the "consent of all, he would choose to do it with the disapprobation of many? "Can you believe that the person whom he scrupled to slay, when he might "have done so with full justice, in a convenient place, at a proper time, with "secure impunity, he made no scruple to murder against justice, in an unfa"vourable place, at an unseasonable time, and at the risque of capital condem"nation?"

render an Antithesis more complete, it is always of advantage, that the words and members of the sentence, expressing the contrasted objects, be, as in this instance of Cicero's, similarly constructed, and made to correspond to each other. This leads. us to remark the contrast more, by setting the things which we oppose more clearly over against each other; in the same manner as when we contrast a black and a white object, in order to perceive the full difference of their colour, we would choose to have both objects of the same bulk, and placed in the same light. Their resemblance to each other, in certain circumstances, makes their disagreement in others more palpable.

At the same time, I must observe, that the frequent use of Antithesis, especially where the opposition in the words is nice and quaint, is apt to render style disagreeable. Such a sentence as the following, from Seneca, does very well, where it stands alone: Si quem volueris esse divitem, non est quod 66 augeas divitias, sed minuas cupiditates."* Or this: "Si ad "naturam vives, nunquam eris pauper; si ad opinionem, nunquam dives."† A maxim, or moral saying, properly enough receives this form; both because it is supposed to be the fruit of meditation, and because it is designed to be engraven on the memory, which recals it more easily by the help of such contrasted expressions. But where a string of such sentences succeed each other: where this becomes an author's favourite and prevailing manner of expressing himself, his style is faulty; and it is upon this account Seneca has been often, and justly, censured. Such a style appears too studied and laboured; it gives us the impression of an author attending more to his manner of saying things, than to the things themselves which he says. Dr. Young, though a writer of real genius, was too fond of Antithesis. In his Estimate of Human Life, we find whole pages that run in such a strain as this: "The pea66 sant complains aloud; the courtier in secret repines. In "want, what distress? in affluence, what satiety? The great

* "If you seek to make one rich, study not to increase his stores, but to di"minish his desires."

+"If you regulate your desires according to the standard of nature, you will "never be poor; if according to the standard of opinion, you will never be "rich."

"are under as much difficulty to expend with pleasure, as the "mean to labour with success. The ignorant, through ill"grounded hope, are disappointed; the knowing, through "knowledge, despond. Ignorance occasions mistake; mistake, ❝ disappointment; and disappointment is misery. Knowledge, "on the other hand, gives true judgment; and true judgment of "human things, gives a demonstration of their insufficiency to "our peace." There is too much glitter in such a style as this, to please long. We are fatigued, by attending to such quaint and artificial sentences often repeated.

There is another sort of Antithesis, the beauty of which con. sists in surprising us by the unexpected contrasts of things which it brings together. Much wit may be shewn in this: but it belongs wholly to pieces of professed wit and humour, and can find no place in grave compositions. Mr. Pope, who is remarkably fond of Antithesis, is often happy in this use of the figure. So, in his Rape of the Lock:

f

Whether the nymph shall break Diana's law,

Or some frail China jar receive a flaw;

Or stain her honour, or her new brocade;
Forget her prayers, or miss a masquerade;

Or lose her heart, or necklace at a ball,

Or whether Heav'n has doom'd that Shock must fall.

What is called the point of an epigram, consists, for most part, in some Antithesis of this kind; surprising us with the smart and unexpected turn, which it gives to the thought and in the fewer words it is brought out, it is always the happier.

Comparisons and Antithesis are figures of a cool nature; the productions of imagination, not of passion. Interrogations and Exclamations, of which I am next to speak, are passionate figures. They are, indeed, on so many occasions, the native language of passion, that their use is extremely frequent; and in ordinary conversation, when men are heated, they prevail as much as in the most sublime oratory. The unfigured, literal use of Interrogation, is to ask a question; but when men are prompted by passion whatever they would affirm, or deny with great vehemence, they naturally put in the form of a question; expressing thereby the strongest confidence of the truth of their own sentiment, and appealing to their hearers for the impossibility of

the contrary. Thus, in scripture: "God is not a man, that he "should lie, neither the Son of Man, that he should repent. Hath "he said it? and shall he not do it? Hath he spoken it? and “shall he not make it good!"* So Demosthenes, addressing himself to the Athenians: "Tell me, will you still go about and "ask one another, what news? What can be more astonishing 66 news than this, that the man of Macedon makes war upon the "Athenians, and disposes of the affairs of Greece? Is Philip "dead? No, but he is sick. What signifies it to you whether " he be dead or alive? For, if any thing happens to this Philદ "ip, you will immediately raise up another." All this, delivered without Interrogation, had been faint and ineffectual; but the warmth and eagerness which this questioning method expresses, awakens the hearers, and strikes them with much greater force.

Interrogation may often be applied with propriety, in the course of no higher emotions than naturally arise in pursuing some close and earnest reasoning. But Exclamations belong only to stronger emotions of the mind; to surprise, admiration anger, joy, grief, and the like:

Heu pietas! heu prisca fides! invictaque bello
Dextra!

Both Interrogation and Exclamation, and, indeed, all passionate figures of speech, operate upon us by means of sympathy. Sympathy is a very powerful and extensive principle in our nature, disposing us to enter into every feeling and passion, which we behold expressed by others. Hence, a single person coming into company with strong marks, either of melancholy or joy, upon his countenance, will diffuse that passion, in a moment, through the whole circle. Hence, in a great crowd, passions are so easily caught, and so fast spread, by that powerful contagion which the animated looks, cries, and gestures of a multitude never fail to carry. Now, Interrogations and Exclamations, being natural signs of a moved and agitated mind, always, when they are properly used, dispose us to sympathise with the dispositions of those who use them, and to feel as they feel.

* Numbers, chap. xxiii, ver. 19.

From this it follows, that the great rule with regard to the conduct of such figurés is, that the writer attend to the manner in which nature dictates to us to express any emotion or passion, and that he give his language that turn, and no other; above all, that he never affect the style of a passion which he does not feel. With Interrogations he may use a good deal of freedom; these, as above observed, falling in so much with the ordinary course of language and reasoning, even when no great vehemence is supposed to have place in the mind. But, with respect to Exclamations, he must be more reserved. Nothing has a worse effect than the frequent and unseasonable use of them. Raw, juvenile writers imagine, that, by pouring them forth often, they render their compositions warm and animated. Whereas quite the contrary follows. They render it frigid to excess. When an author is always calling upon us to enter into transports which he has said nothing to inspire, we are both disgusted and enraged at him. He raises no sympathy; for he gives us no passion of his own, in which we can take part. He gives us words, and not passion; and of course, can raise no passion, unless that of indignation. Hence, I incline to think, he was not much mistaken, who said, that when, on looking into a book, he found the pages thick bespangled with the point which is called, “ Punctum admirationis," he judged this to be a sufficient reason for his laying it aside. And, indeed, were it not for the help of this "punctum admirationis," with which many writers of the rapturous kind so much abound, one would be often at a loss to discover, whether or not it was Exclamation which they aimed at. For, it has now become a fashion, among these writers, to subjoin points of admiration to sentences, which contain nothing but simple affirmations, or propositions; as if, by an affected method of pointing, they could transform them in the reader's mind into high figures, of eloquence. Much akin to this, is another contrivance practised by some writers, of separating almost all the members of the sentences from each other, by blank lines; as if, by setting them thus asunder, they bestowed some special importance upon them; and required us, in going along, to make a pause at every other word, and weigh it well. This, I think, may be called a Typographical Figure of Speech. Neither, indeed, since we

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