“Pray, papa,” said Cecilia, “what is an emblem? I have met with the word in my lesson to-day, and I do not quite understand it.”

“An emblem, my dear,” replied he, “is a visible image of an invisible thing.”

Cecilia. A visible image of—I can hardly comprehend—

Pa. Well, I will explain it more at length. There are certain notions that we form in our minds without the help of our eyes or any of our senses. Thus, Virtue, Vice, Honour, Disgrace, Time, Death, and the like, are not sensible objects, but ideas of the understanding.

Cec. Yes—We cannot feel them or see them, but we can think about them.

Pa. True. Now it sometimes happens that we wish to represent one of these in a visible form; that is, to offer something to the sight that shall raise a similar notion in the minds of the beholders. In order to do this, we must take some action or circumstance belonging to it, capable of being expressed by painting or sculpture, and this is called a type or emblem.

Cec. But how can this be done?

Pa. I will tell you by an example. You know the sessions-house, where trials are held. It would be easy to write over the door in order to distinguish it, “This is the sessions-house;” but it is a more ingenious and elegant way of pointing it out, to place upon the building a figure representing the purpose for which it was erected, namely, to distribute justice. For this end the notion of justice is to be personified, that is, changed from an idea of the understanding into one of the sight. A human figure is therefore made, distinguished by tokens which bear a relation to the character of that virtue. Justice carefully weighs both sides of a cause; she is therefore represented as holding a pair of scales. It is her office to punish crimes; she therefore bears a sword. This is then an emblematical figure, and the sword and scales are emblems.

Cec. I understand this very well. But why is she blindfolded?

Pa. To denote her impartiality—that she decides only from the merits of the case, and not from a view of the parties.

Cec. How can she weigh anything, though, when her eyes are blinded?

Pa. Well objected. These are two inconsistent emblems; each proper in itself, but when used together, making a contradictory action. An artist of judgment will therefore drop one of them; and accordingly the best modern figures of Justice have the balance and sword, without the bandage over the eyes.

Cec. Is there not the same fault in making Cupid blindfolded, and yet putting a bow and arrow into his hands?

Pa. There is. It is a gross absurdity, and not countenanced by the ancient descriptions of Cupid, who is represented as the surest of all archers.

Cec. I have a figure of Death in my fable-book. I suppose that is emblematical?

Pa. Certainly, or you could not know that it meant Death. How is it represented?

Cec. He is nothing but bones, and he holds a scythe in one hand, and an hour-glass in the other.

Pa. Well—how do you interpret these emblems?

Cec. I suppose he is all bones, because nothing but bones are left after a dead body has lain long in the grave.

Pa. True. This, however, is not so properly an emblem, as the real and visible effect of death. But the scythe?

Cec. Is not that because death mows down everything?

Pa. It is. No instrument could so properly represent the wide-wasting sway of death, which sweeps down the race of animals like flowers falling under the hands of the mower. It is a simile used in the Scriptures.

Cec. The hour-glass, I suppose, is to show people their time is come.

Pa. Right. In the hour-glass that Death holds, all the sand is run out from the upper to the lower part. Have you never observed upon a monument an old figure, with wings, and a scythe, and with his head bald all but a single lock before?

Cec. O yes;—and I have been told it is Time.

Pa. Well—and what do you make of it? Why is he old?

Cec. O! because he has lasted a long while.

Pa. And why has he wings?

Cec. Because Time is swift, and flies away.

Pa. What does his scythe mean?

Cec. I suppose it is because he destroys and cuts down everything, like Death.

Pa. True. I think, however, a weapon rather slower in operation, as a pick-axe, would have been more suitable to the gradual action of time. But what is his single lock of hair for?

Cec. I have been thinking, and cannot make it out.

Pa. I thought that would puzzle you. It relates to time as giving opportunity for doing anything. It is to be seized as it presents itself, or it will escape, and cannot be recovered. Thus the proverb says, “Take Time by the forelock.” Well—now you understand what emblems are.

Cec. Yes, I think I do. I suppose the painted sugar-loaves over the grocer’s shop, and the mortar over the apothecary’s, are emblems, too?

Pa. Not so properly. They are only the pictures of things which are themselves the objects of sight, as the real sugar-loaf in the shop of the grocer, and the real mortar in that of the apothecary. However, an implement belonging to a particular rank or profession is commonly used as an emblem to point out the man exercising that rank or profession. Thus, a crown is considered as an emblem of a king; a sword, or spear, of a soldier; an anchor, of a sailor; and the like.

Cec. I remember Captain Heartwell, when he came to see us, had the figure of an anchor on all his buttons.

Pa. He had. That was the emblem or badge of his belonging to the navy.

Cec. But you told me that an emblem was a visible sign of an invisible thing; yet a sea-captain is not an invisible thing.

Pa. He is not invisible as a man, but his profession is invisible.

Cec. I do not well understand that.

Pa. Profession is a quality, belonging equally to a number of individuals, however different they may be in external form and appearance. It may be added or taken away without any visible change. Thus, if Captain Heartwell were to give up his commission, he would appear to you the same man as before. It is plain, therefore, that what in that case he had lost, namely, his profession, was a thing invisible. It is one of those ideas of the understanding which I before mentioned to you as different from a sensible idea.

Cec. I comprehend it now.

Pa. I have got here a few emblematical pictures. Suppose you try whether you can find out their meaning.

Cec. O yes—I shall like that very well.

Pa. Here is a man standing on the summit of a steep cliff, and going to ascend a ladder which he has planted against a cloud.

Cec. Let me see!—that must be Ambition, I think.

Pa. How do you explain it?

Cec. He is got very high already, but he wants to be still higher; so he ventures up the ladder, though it is only supported by a cloud, and hangs over a precipice.

Pa. Very right. Here is now another man, hood-winked, who is crossing a raging torrent upon stepping-stones.

Cec. Then he will certainly fall in. I suppose he is one that runs into danger without considering whither he is going?

Pa. Yes; and you may call him Fool-hardiness. Do you see this hand coming out of a black cloud, and putting an extinguisher upon a lamp?

Cec. I do. If that lamp be the lamp of life, the hand that extinguishes it must be Death.

Pa. Very just. Here is an old, half-ruined building, supported by props; and the figure of Time is sawing through one of the props.

Cec. That must be Old Age, surely.

Pa. It is. The next is a man leaning upon a breaking crutch.

Cec. I don’t well know what to make of that.

Pa. It is intended for Instability; however, it might also stand for False Confidence. Here is a man poring over a sundial with a candle in his hand.

Cec. I am at a loss for that, too.

Pa. Consider—a sundial is only made to tell the hour by the light of the sun.

Cec. Then this man must know nothing about it.

Pa. True; and his name is therefore Ignorance. Here is a walking-stick, the lower part of which is set in the water, and it appears crooked. What does that denote?

Cec. Is the stick really crooked?

Pa. No; but it is the property of water to give that appearance.

Cec. Then it must signify Deception.

Pa. It does. I dare say you will at once know this fellow who is running as fast as his legs will carry him, and looking back at his shadow.

Cec. He must be Fear or Terror, I fancy.

Pa. Yes; you may call him which you please. But who is this sower, that scatters seeds in the ground?

Cec. Let me consider. I think there is a parable in the Bible about seed sown, and it therefore signifies something like Instruction.

Pa. True; but it may also represent Hope, for no one sows without hoping to reap the fruit. What do you think of this candle held before a mirror, in which its figure is exactly reflected?

Cec. I do not know what it means.

Pa. It represents Truth; the essence of which consists in the fidelity with which objects are received and reflected back by our minds. The object is here a luminous one, to show the clearness and brightness of Truth. Here is next an upright column, the perfect straightness of which is shown by a plumb-line hanging from its summit, and exactly parallel to the side of the column.

Cec. I suppose that must represent Uprightness.

Pa. Yes—or in other words, Rectitude. The strength and stability of the pillar alone denote the security produced by this virtue. You see here a woman disentangling and reeling off a very perplexed skein of thread.

Cec. She must have a great deal of patience.

Pa. True. She is Patience herself. The brooding hen, sitting beside her, is another emblem of the same quality that aids the interpretation. Who do you think this pleasing female is, that looks with such kindness upon the drooping plant she is watering?

Cec. That must be Charity, I believe.

Pa. It is; or you may call her Benignity, which is nearly the same thing. Here is a lady sitting demurely, with one finger on her lip, while she holds a bridle in her other hand.

Cec. The finger on the lip, I suppose, denotes Silence. The bridle must mean confinement. I should almost fancy her to be a schoolmistress.

Pa. Ha! ha! I hope, indeed, many schoolmistresses are endued with her spirit, for she is Prudence or Discretion. Well—we are now got to the end of our pictures, and upon the whole you have interpreted them very prettily.

Cec. But I have one question to ask you, papa. In these pictures and others that I have seen of the same sort, almost all the good qualities are represented in the form of women. What is the reason of that?

Pa. It is certainly a compliment, my dear, either to your sex’s person or mind. The inventor either chose the figure of a female to clothe each agreeable quality in, because he thought that the most agreeable form, and therefore best suited it; or he meant to imply that the female character is really the most virtuous and amiable. I rather believe that the first was his intention, but I shall not object to your taking it in the light of the second.

Cec. But is it true—is it true?

Pa. Why, I can give you very good authority for the preference of the female sex, in a moral view. One Ledyard, a great traveller, who had walked through almost all the countries of Europe, and at last died in an expedition to explore the internal parts of Africa, gave a most decisive and pleasing testimony in favour of the superior character of women, whether savage or civilized. I was so much pleased with it, that I put great part of it into verse; and if it will not make you vain, I will give you a copy of my lines.

Cec. O, pray, do!

Pa. Here they are. Read them.