to the poetical expression; some from the image or idea they convey to the imagination; and some from the effect they have upon the ear. The first are truly figurative; the others may be called emphatical. Rollin observes, that Virgil has upon many occasions poetized (if we may be allowed the expression) a whole sentence by means of the same word, which is pendere.

"Ite meæ,
felix quondam pecus, ite capellæ,
Non ego vos posthac, viridi projectus in antro,
Dumosa pendere procul de rupe videbo.

At ease reclin'd beneath the verdant shade,
No more shall I behold my happy flock
Aloft hang browsing on the tufted rock."

Here the word pendere wonderfully improves the landscape, and renders the whole passage beautifully picturesque. The same figurative verb we meet with in many different parts of the Æneid.

"Hi summo in fluctu pendent, his unda dehiscens
Terram inter fluctus aperit.

These on the mountain billow hung; to those

The yawning waves the yellow sand disclose."

In this instance, the words pendent and dehiscens, hung and yawning, are equally poetical. Addison seems to have had this passage in his eye, when he wrote his Hymn, which is inserted in the Spectator:

For though in dreadful whirls we hung,

High on the broken wave."

And in another piece of a like nature, in the same collection:

When in the silent womb I lay,

And hung upon the breast."

Shakspeare, in his admired description of Dover cliff, uses the same expression :

half way down

Hangs one that gathers samphire-dreadful trade!"

Nothing can be more beautiful than the following picture, in which Milton has introduced the same expressive tint:

he, on his side,

Leaning half rais'd, with looks of cordial love

Hung over her enamor'd."

We shall give one example from Virgil, to show in what a variety of scenes it may appear with propriety and effect. In describing the progress of Dido's passion for Æneas, the Poet says,

The reader will perceive in all these instances, that no other word could be substituted with equal energy; indeed no other word could be used without degrading the sense, and defacing the image.

There are many other verbs of poetical import fetched from nature and from art, which the poet uses to advantage, both in a literal and metaphorical sense; and these have been always translated for the same purpose from one language to another; such as quasso, concutio, cio, suscito, lenio, sævio, mano, fluo,

ardeo, mico, aro, to shake, to wake, to rouse, to soothe, to rage, to flow, to shine or blaze, to plough.-Quassantia tectum liminaEneas, casu concussus acerbo-Ere ciere viros, Martemque accendere cantu-Eneas acuit Martem et se suscitat irâ-Impium lenite clamorem. Lenibat curas-Ne sævi magna sacerdosSudor ad imos manabat solos-Suspensæque diu lachrymæ fluxêre per ora-Juvenali ardebat amore- -Micat æreus ensis— Nullum maris æquor arandum. It will be unnecessary to insert examples of the same nature from the English poets.

The words we term emphatical, are such as by their sound express the sense they are intended to convey; and with these the Greek abounds, above all other languages, not only from its natural copiousness, flexibility, and significance, but also from the variety of its dialects, which enables a writer to vary his terminations occasionally as the nature of the subject requires, without offending the most delicate ear, or incurring the imputation of adopting vulgar provincial expressions. Every smatterer in Greek can repeat

Βῆ ἀκέων παρὰ θῖνα πολυφλοίσβοῖο θαλάσσης,

in which the two last words wonderfully echo to the sense, conveying the idea of the sea dashing on the shore. How much more significant in sound than that beautiful image of Shakspeare

66

The sea that on th' unnumber'd pebbles beats."

And yet, if we consider the strictness of propriety, this last expression would seem to have been selected on purpose to concur with the other circumstances which are brought together to ascertain the vast height of Dover cliff; for the poet adds, "cannot be heard so high." The place where Gloster stood was so high above the surface of the sea, that the gioioßos, or dashing, could not be heard; and therefore an enthusiastic admirer

of Shakspeare might with some plausibility affirm, the poet had chosen an expression in which that sound is not at all conveyed.

In the very same page of Homer's Iliad we meet with two other striking instances of the same sort of beauty; Apollo, incensed at the insults his priest had sustained, descends from the top of Olympus, with his bow and quiver rattling on his shoulder as he moved along:

Ἔκλαγξαν δ ̓ ἄρ ̓ οἴστω ἐπ ̓ ὤμων.

Here the sound of the word "Exλaysa admirably expresses the clanking of armor; as the third line after this surprisingly imitates the twanging of a bow.

Δεινὴ δὲ κλαγγὴ γίνετ ̓ ἀργυρέοιο βιοῖο.

"In shrill-toned murmurs sung the twanging bow."

Many beauties of the same kind are scattered through Homer, Pindar, and Theocritus, such as the Boμßevσa μéliova, susurrans apicula; the ádi yıúgioua, dulcem susurrum; and the uɛliodata, for the sighing of the pine.

The Latin language teems with sounds adapted to every situation, and the English is not destitute of this significant energy. We have the cooing turtle, the sighing reed, the warbling rivulet, the sliding stream, the whispering breeze, the glance, the gleam, the flash, the bickering flame, the dashing wave, the gushing spring, the howling blast, the rattling storm, the pattering shower, the crimp earth, the mouldering tower, the twanging bowstring, the clanging arms, the clanking chains, the twinkling stars, the tinkling chords, the trickling drops, the twittering swallow, the cawing rook, the screeching owl; and a thousand other words and epithets, wonderfully suited to the sense they imply.

Among the select passages of poetry which we shall insert by

way of illustration, the reader will find instances of all the dif ferent tropes and figures which the best authors have adopted in the variety of their poetical works, as well as of the apostrophe, abrupt transition, repetition, and prosopopæia.

In the mean time it will be necessary still farther to analyze those principles which constitute the essence of poetical merit; to display those delightful parterres that teem with the fairest flowers of imagination; and distinguish between the gaudy offspring of a cold insipid fancy, and the glowing progeny, diffusing sweets, produced and invigorated by the sun of genius.

ESSAY XXI.

ON THE USE OF METAPHORS.

Of all the implements of poetry, the Metaphor is the most generally and successfully used, and indeed may be termed the Muse's caduceus, by the power of which she enchants all nature. The metaphor is a shorter simile, or rather a kind of magical coat, by which the same idea assumes a thousand different appearThus the word plough, which originally belongs to agriculture, being metaphorically used, represents the motion of a ship at sea, and the effects of old age upon the human counte

ances.

nance

"-Plough'd the bosom of the deep-"

"And time had plough'd his venerable front."

Almost every verb, noun substantive, or term of art in any language, may be in this manner applied to a variety of subjects with admirable effect; but the danger is in sowing metaphors too thick, so as to distract the imagination of the reader, and incur the imputation of deserting nature, in order to hunt after con