  COMPARISONS. COmparisons, as observed above An object of one sense cannot be compared to an object of another; for such objects are totally separated from each other, and have no circumstance in common to admit either resemblance or contrast. Objects of hearing may be compared, as also of taste, and of touch. But the chief fund of comparison are objects of sight; because, in writing or speaking, things can only be compared in idea, and the ideas of visible objects are by far more lively than those of any other sense. It has no good effect to compare things by way of simile that are of the This just rebuke inflam’d the Lycian crew, They join, they thicken, and th’ assault renew; Unmov’d th’ embody’d Greeks their fury dare, And fix’d support the weight of all the war; Nor could the Greeks repel the Lycian pow’rs, Nor the bold Lycians force the Grecian tow’rs. As on the confines of adjoining grounds, Two stubborn swains with blows dispute their bounds; They tugg, they sweat; but neither gain, nor yield, One foot, one inch, of the contended field: Thus obstinate to death, they fight, they fall; Nor these can keep, nor those can win the wall. Iliad, xii. 505. Another from Milton labours under the same defect. Speaking of the fallen angels searching for mines of gold: A numerous brigade hasten’d: as when bands Forerun the royal camp to trench a field Or cast a rampart. The next shall be of things contrasted that are of different kinds. Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform’d and weak? Hath Bolingbroke depos’d Thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw, And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage To be o’erpower’d: and wilt thou, pupil-like, Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod, And fawn on rage with base humility? Richard II. act 5. sc. 1. This comparison has scarce any force. A man and a lion are of different species; and there is no such resemblance betwixt them in general, as to produce any strong effect by contrasting particular attributes or circumstances. A third general observation is, That abstract terms can never be the subject of comparison, otherwise than by being personified. I now proceed to illustrate by particular instances the different means by which comparison can afford pleasure; and, in the order above established, I shall begin with those instances that are agreeable by suggesting some unusual resemblance or contrast: Sweet are the uses of Adversity, Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous, Wears yet a precious jewel in her head. As you like it, act 2, sc. 1. Gardiner. Bolingbroke hath seiz’d the wasteful King. What pity is’t that he had not so trimm’d And dress’d his land, as we this garden dress, And wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees; Left, being over proud with sap and blood, With too much riches it confound itself. Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have liv’d to bear, and he to taste Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, Which waste and idle hours have quite thrown down. Richard II. act 3. sc. 7. See, how the Morning opes her golden gates, And takes her farewell of the glorious sun; How well resembles it the prime of youth, Trim’d like a yonker prancing to his love. Second Part Henry VI.> act 2. sc. 1. Brutus. O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb, That carries anger as the flint bears fire; Who, much inforced, shows a hasty spark, And straight is cold again. Julius CÆsar, act 4. sc. 3. Thus they their doubtful consultations dark Ended, rejoicing in their matchless chief: As when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds, Ascending, while the North-wind sleeps, o’erspread Heav’n’s chearful face, the lowring element Scowls o’er the darken’d landscape, snow, and shower; If chance the radiant sun with farewell sweet Extend his ev’ning-beam, the fields revive, Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings. Paradise Lost, book 2. The last exertion of courage compared to the blaze of a lamp before extinguishing, Tasso Gierusalem, canto 19. st. 22. As the bright stars, and milky way, Shew’d by the night, are hid by day: So we in that accomplish’d mind, Help’d by the night, new graces find, Which, by the splendor of her view Dazzled before, we never knew. Waller. None of the foregoing similes, as it appears to me, have the effect to add any lustre to the principal subject; and therefore the pleasure they afford, must arise from suggesting resemblances that are not obvious: I mean the chief pleasure; for undoubtedly a beautiful subject introduced to form the simile affords a separate pleasure, which is felt in the similes mentioned, particularly in that cited from Milton. The next effect of a comparison in the As when two scales are charg’d with doubtful loads, From side to side the trembling balance nods, (While some laborious matron, just and poor, With nice exactness weighs her woolly store), Till pois’d aloft, the resting beam suspends Each equal weight; nor this nor that descends: So stood the war, till Hector’s matchless might, With fates prevailing, turn’d the scale of fight. Fierce as a whirlwind up the walls he flies, And fires his host with loud repeated cries. Ut flos in septis secretis nascitur hortis, Ignotus pecori, nullo contusus aratro, Quem mulcent aurÆ, firmat sol, educat imber, Multi illum pueri, multÆ cupiere puellÆ. Idem, cum tenui carptus defloruit ungui, Nulli illum pueri, nullÆ cupiere puellÆ. Sic virgo, dum intacta manet, dum cara suis; sed Cum castum amisit, polluto corpore, florem, Nec pueris jucunda manet, nec cara puellis. Catullus. The imitation of this beautiful simile by Ariosto, canto 1. st. 42. falls short of the original. It is also in part imitated by Pope Lucetta. I do not seek to quench your love’s hot fire, But qualify the fires extreme rage, Lest it should burn above the bounds of reason. Julia. The more thou damm’st it up, the more it burns: The current, that with gentle murmur glides, Thou know’st, being stopp’d, impatiently doth rage; But when his fair course is not hindered, He makes sweet music with th’ enamel’d stones Giving a gentle kiss to every sedge He overtaketh in his pilgrimage. And so by many winding nooks he strays With willing sport, to the wild ocean. Then let me go, and hinder not my course; I’ll be as patient as a gentle stream, And make a pastime of each weary step Till the last step have brought me to my love; And there I’ll rest, as, after much turmoil, A blessed soul doth in Elysium. Two Gentlemen of Verona, act 2. sc. 10. ———— She never told her love, But let concealment, like a worm i’ th’ bud, Feed on her damask cheek: she pin’d in thought; And with a green and yellow melancholy, She sat like Patience on a monument, Smiling at Grief. Twelfth-Night, act 2. sc. 6. York. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, Which his aspiring rider seem’d to know, With slow but stately pace, kept on his course: While all tongues cry’d, God save thee, Bolingbroke. Duchess. Alas! poor Richard, where rides he the while? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-grac’d actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious: Even so, or with much more contempt, mens eyes Did scowl on Richard; no man cry’d, God save him! No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home; But dust was thrown upon his sacred head; Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, Richard II. act 5. sc. 3. Northumberland. How doth my son and brother? Thou tremblest, and the whiteness in thy cheek Is apter than thy tongue to tell thy errand. Even such a man, so faint, so spiritless, So dull, so dead in look, so wo-be-gone, Drew Priam’s curtain in the dead of night, And would have told him, half his Troy was burn’d; But Priam found the fire, ere he his tongue: And I my Percy’s death, ere thou report’st it. Second Part Henry IV. act 1. sc. 3. Why, then I do but dream on sov’reignty, Like one that stands upon a promontory, And spies a far-off shore where he would tread, Wishing his foot were equal with his eye, And chides the sea that sunders him from thence, Saying, he’ll lave it dry to have his way: So do I wish, the crown being so far off, And so I chide the means that keep me from it, Flatt’ring my mind with things impossible. Third Part Henry VI. act 3. sc. 3. —————— Out, out, brief candle! Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player, That struts and frets his hour upon the stage, And then is heard no more. Macbeth, act 5. sc. 5. O thou Goddess, Thou divine Nature! how thyself thou blazon’st In these two princely boys! they are as gentle As zephyrs blowing below the violet, Not wagging his sweet head; and yet as rough, (Their royal blood inchas’d) as the rud’st wind, That by the top doth take the mountain-pine, And make him stoop to th’ vale. Cymbeline, act 4. sc. 4. The sight obtained of the city of Jerusalem by the Christian army, compared to that of land discovered after a long voyage, Tasso’s Gierusalem, canto 3. st. 4. The fury of Rinaldo subsiding when not opposed, to that of wind or water when it has a free passage, canto 20. st. 58. As words convey but a faint and obscure notion of great numbers, a poet, to give a high notion of the object he describes with regard to number, does well to compare it to what is familiar and commonly known. Thus Homer —— As when the potent rod Of Amram’s son in Egypt’s evil day Wav’d round the coast, up call’d a pitchy cloud Of locusts, warping on the eastern wind, That o’er the realm of impious Pharaoh hung Like night, and darken’d all the land of Nile: So numberless were those bad angels seen, Hovering on wing under the cope of hell, ’Twixt upper, nether, and surrounding fires. Paradise Lost, book 1. Such comparisons have, by some writers The foregoing comparisons operate by resemblance; others have the same effect by contrast: York. I am the last of Noble Edward’s sons, Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: In war, was never lion rag’d more fierce; In peace, was never gentle lamb more mild; Than was that young and princely gentleman. His face thou hast; for even so look’d he, Accomplish’d with the number of thy hours. But when he frown’d, it was against the French, And not against his friends. His noble hand Did win what he did spend; and spent not that Which his triumphant father’s hand had won. His hands were guilty of no kindred’s blood, But bloody with the enemies of his kin. Oh, Richard! York is too far gone with grief, Or else he never would compare between. Richard II. act 2. sc. 3. Milton has a peculiar talent in embellishing the principal subject by associating it with others that are agreeable, which is He scarce had ceas’d, when the superior fiend Was moving toward the shore; his pond’rous shield, Ethereal temper, massy, large, and round, Behind him cast; the broad circumference Hung on his shoulders like the moon, whose orb Through optic glass the Tuscan artist views At ev’ning from the top of Fesole, Or in Valdarno, to descry new lands, Rivers, or mountains, in her spotty globe. Milton, b. 1. —— Thus far these, beyond Compare of mortal prowess, yet observ’d Their dread commander. He, above the rest In shape and gesture proudly eminent, Stood like a tow’r; his form had yet not lost All her original brightness, nor appear’d Less than arch-angel ruin’d, and th’ excess Of glory obscur’d: as when the sun new-risen Shorn of his beams; or from behind the moon In dim eclipse, disastrous twilight sheds On half the nations, and with fear of change Perplexes monarchs. Milton, b. 1. As when a vulture on Imaus bred, Whose snowy ridge the roving Tartar bounds, Dislodging from a region scarce of prey To gorge the flesh of lambs, or yeanling kids, On hills where flocks are fed, flies toward the springs Of Ganges or Hydaspes, Indian streams, But in his way lights on the barren plains Of Sericana, where Chineses drive With sails and wind their cany waggons light: So on this windy sea of land, the fiend Walk’d up and down alone, bent on his prey. Milton, b. 3. —— Yet higher than their tops The verdurous wall of Paradise up sprung: Which to our general sire gave prospect large Into this nether empire neighbouring round. And higher than that wall, a circling row Of goodliest trees loaden with fairest fruit, Blossoms and fruits at once of golden hue, Appear’d, with gay enamel’d colours mix’d, Than in fair evening cloud, or humid bow, When God hath show’r’d the earth; so lovely seem’d That landscape: and of pure now purer air Meets his approach, and to the heart inspires Vernal delight and joy, able to drive All sadness but despair: now gentle gales Fanning their odoriferous wings dispense Native perfumes, and whisper whence they stole Those balmy spoils. As when to them who sail Beyond the Cape of Hope, and now are past Mozambic, off at sea North-east winds blow Sabean odour from the spicy shore Of Arabie the Blest; with such delay Well pleas’d they slack their course, and many a league, Chear’d with the grateful smell, old Ocean smiles. Milton, b. 4. With regard to similes of this kind, it will readily occur to the reader, that when the resembling subject or circumstance is once properly introduced in a simile, the mind passes easily to the new objects, and is transitorily amused with them, without feeling any disgust at the slight interruption. Thus, in fine weather, the momentary excursions of Next of comparisons that aggrandize or elevate. These make stronger impressions than any other sort; the reason of which may be gathered from the chapter of grandeur and sublimity, and, without reasoning, will be evident from the following instances. As when a flame the winding valley fills, And runs on crackling shrubs between the hills, Then o’er the stubble up the mountain flies, Fires the high woods, and blazes to the skies, This way and that, the spreading torrent roars; So sweeps the hero through the wasted shores. Around him wide, immense destruction pours, And earth is delug’d with the sanguine show’rs. Iliad xx. 569. Through blood, through death, Achilles still proceeds, O’er slaughter’d heroes, and o’er rolling steeds. On guilty towns exert the wrath of Heav’n, The pale inhabitants, some fall, some fly, And the red vapours purple all the sky. So rag’d Achilles: Death, and dire dismay, And toils, and terrors, fill’d the dreadful day. Iliad xxi. 605. Methinks, King Richard and myself should meet With no less terror than the elements Of fire and water, when their thund’ring shock, At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. Richard II. act. 3. sc. 5. I beg peculiar attention to the following simile, for a reason that shall be mentioned. Thus breathing death, in terrible array, The close-compacted legions urg’d their way: Fierce they drove on, impatient to destroy; Troy charg’d the first, and Hector first of Troy. As from some mountain’s craggy forehead torn, A rock’s round fragment flies with fury born, (Which from the stubborn stone a torrent rends) Precipitate the pond’rous mass descends: From steep to steep the rolling ruin bounds: At every shock the crackling wood resounds; Still gath’ring force, it smoaks; and urg’d amain, Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the plain: Resistless when he rag’d; and when he stopt, unmov’d. Iliad xiii. 187. The image of a falling rock is certainly not elevating So saying, a noble stroke he lifted high, Which hung not, but so swift with tempest fell On the proud crest of Satan, that no sight, Nor motion of swift thought, less could his shield Such ruin intercept. Ten paces huge He back recoil’d; the tenth on bended knee His massy spear upstaid; as if on earth Winds under ground or waters forcing way Sidelong had push’d a mountain from his seat Half sunk with all pines. Milton, b. 6. A comparison by contrast may contribute to grandeur or elevation, not less than by resemblance; of which the following comparison of Lucan is a remarkable instance. Victrix causa diis placuit, sed victa Catoni. Considering that the Heathen deities possessed a rank but one degree above that of mankind, I think it scarce possible, by a single expression, to elevate or dignify more one of the human species, than is done by this comparison. I am sensible, at the same time, that such a comparison among Christians, who entertain juster notions of the Deity, would justly be reckoned extravagant and absurd. The last article mentioned, is that of lessening or depressing a hated or disagreeable object; which is effectually done by resembling it to any thing that is low or despicable. Thus Milton, in his description of the rout of the rebel-angels, happily expresses their terror and dismay in the following simile. —— As a herd Of goats or timorous flock together throng’d Drove them before him thunder-struck, pursu’d With terrors and with furies to the bounds And crystal wall of heav’n, which op’ning wide, Rowl’d inward, and a spacious gap disclos’d Into the wasteful deep; the monstrous sight Strook them with horror backward, but far worse Urg’d them behind; headlong themselves they threw Down from the verge of heav’n. Milton, b. 6. In the same view, Homer, I think, may be defended, in comparing the shouts of the Trojans in battle, to the noise of cranes A comparison that has none of the good effects mentioned in this discourse, but is built upon common and trifling circumstances, makes a mighty silly figure: “Non sum nescius, grandia consilia a multis plerumque causis, ceu magna navigia a plurimis remis, impelli By this time I imagine the different purposes of comparison, and the various impressions it makes on the mind, are sufficiently illustrated by proper examples. This was an easy work. It is more difficult to lay down rules about the propriety or impropriety of comparisons; in what circumstances they may be introduced, and in what circumstances they are out of place. It is evident, that a comparison is not proper upon every occasion; a man in his cool and sedate moments, is not disposed to poetical flights, nor to sacrifice truth and reality to the delusive operations of the imagination; far less is he so disposed, when oppressed with cares, or interested in some important transaction Again, Come, gentle Night; come, loving black-brow’d Night! Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die, Take him, and cut him out in little stars, And he will make the face of heav’n so fine, That all the world shall be in love with Night And pay no worship to the garish sun. The dread of a misfortune, however imminent, involving always some doubt and uncertainty, agitates the mind, and excites the imagination: Wolsey.—— Nay, then, farewell; I’ve touch’d the highest point of all my greatness; And from that full meridian of my glory I haste now to my setting. I shall fall, Like a bright exhalation in the evening, And no man see me more. Henry VIII. act 3. sc. 4. But it will be a better illustration of the present head, to give examples where comparisons are improperly introduced. I have had already occasion to observe, that similes are not the language of a man in his ordinary state of mind, going about the common affairs of life. For that reason, the following speech of a gardiner to his servants, is extremely improper. Go bind thou up yon dangling apricocks Which, like unruly children, make their sire Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight: Give some supportance to the bending twigs. Go thou, and like an executioner, That look too lofty in our commonwealth: All must be even in our government. Richard II. act 3. sc. 7. The fertility of Shakespear’s vein betrays him frequently into this error. There is the same impropriety in another simile of his: Hero. Good Margaret, run thee into the parlour; There shalt thou find my cousin Beatrice; Whisper her ear, and tell her, I and Ursula Walk in the orchard, and our whole discourse Is all of her; say, that thou overheard’st us: And bid her steal into the pleached bower, Where honeysuckles, ripen’d by the sun, Forbid the sun to enter; like to favourites, Made proud by princes, that advance their pride Against that power that bred it. Much ado about nothing, act 3. sc. 1. Rooted grief, deep anguish, terror, remorse, despair, and all the severe dispiriting passions, are declared enemies, perhaps not to figurative language in general, but undoubtedly to the pomp and solemnity of comparison. So looks the pent-up lion o’er the wretch That trembles under his devouring paws; And so he walks insulting o’er his prey, And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder. Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword, And not with such a cruel threat’ning look. Third part Henry VI. act 1. sc. 5. Nothing appears more out of place, or more aukwardly introduced, than the following simile. Lucia.————Farewell, my Portius, Farewell, though death is in the word, for-ever! Portius. Stay, Lucia, stay; what dost thou say, for-ever? Lucia. Have I not sworn? If, Portius, thy success Must throw thy brother on his fate, farewell: Oh, how shall I repeat the word for-ever! Portius. Thus, o’er the dying lamp th’ unsteady flame Hangs quivering on a point, leaps off by fits, And falls again, as loath to quit its hold. And can’t get loose. Cato, act 3. sc. 2. Nor doth the simile which closes the first act of the same tragedy, make its appearance with a much better grace; the situation there represented, being too dispiriting for a simile. A simile is improper for one who dreads the discovery of a secret machination. Zara. The mute not yet return’d! Ha! $1’the King, The King that parted hence! frowning he went; His eyes like meteors roll’d, then darted down Their red and angry beams; as if his sight Would, like the raging Dog-star, scorch the earth, And kindle ruin in its course. Mourning Bride, act 5. sc. 3. A man spent and dispirited after losing a battle, is not disposed to heighten or illustrate his discourse by similes: York. With this we charg’d again; but out! alas, We bodg’d again; as I have seen a swan And spend her strength with over-matching waves. Ah! hark, the fatal followers do pursue. And I am faint and cannot fly their fury. The sands are number’d that make up my life; Here must I stay, and here my life must end. Third part Henry VI. act 1. sc. 6. Far less is a man disposed to similes who is not only defeated in a pitch’d battle, but lies at the point of death mortally wounded. Warwick.———— My mangled body shews, My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shews, That I must yield my body to the earth, And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe. Thus yields the cedar to the ax’s edge, Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle; Under whose shade the ramping lion slept, Whose top-branch overpeer’d Jove’s spreading tree, And kept low shrubs from winter’s pow’rful wind. Third part Henry VI. act 5. sc. 3. Queen Katharine, deserted by the King and in the deepest affliction upon her divorce, could not be disposed to any sallies of imagination: and for that reason, the fol I am the most unhappy woman living, Shipwreck’d upon a kingdom, where no pity, No friends, no hope! no kindred weep for me! Almost no grave allowed me! like the lily, That once was mistress of the field, and flourish’d, I’ll hang my head and perish. King Henry VIII. act 3. sc. 1. Similes thus unseasonably introduced, are finely ridiculed in the Rehearsal: Bayes. Now here she must make a simile. Smith. Where’s the necessity of that, Mr Bayes? Bayes. Because she’s surpris’d; that’s a general rule; you must ever make a simile when you are surprised; ’tis a new way of writing. A comparison is not always faultless, even where it is properly introduced. I have endeavoured above to give a general view of the different ends to which a comparison may contribute. A comparison, like other human productions, may fall short of its end; and of this defect instances are not Albus ut obscuro deterget nubila coelo SÆpe Notus, neque parturit imbres Perpetuos: sic tu sapiens finire memento Tristitiam vitÆque labores Molli, Plance, mero. Horace, Carm. l. 1. ode 7. ——— Medio dux agmine Turnus Vertitur arma tenens, et toto vertice supra est, Ceu septem surgens sedatis amnibus altus Per tacitum Ganges: aut pingui flumine Nilus Cum refluit campis, et jam se condidit alveo. Æneid ix. 28. Talibus orabat, talesque miserrima fletus Fertque refertque soror; sed nullus ille movetur Fata obstant: placidasque viri Deus obstruit aures. Ac veluti annoso validam cum robore quercum Alpini BoreÆ, nunc hinc, nunc flatibus illinc Eruere inter se certant; it stridor; et alte Consternunt terram concusso stipite frondes: Ipsa hÆret scopulis: et quantum vertice ad auras Æthereas, tantum radice in tartara tendit. Haud secus assiduis hinc atque hinc vocibus heros Tunditur, et magno persentit pectore curas: Mens immota manet, lacrymÆ volvuntur inanes. Æneid iv. 437. K. Rich. Give me the crown.—Here, cousin, seize the crown, Here, on this side, my hand; on that side, thine. Now is this golden crown like a deep well, That owes two buckets, filling one another; The emptier ever dancing in the air, The other down, unseen and full of water; That bucket down, and full of tears, am I; Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. Richard II. act 4. sc. 3. King John. Oh! Cousin, thou art come to set mine eye; The tackle of my heart is crack’d and burnt; Are turned to one thread, one little hair: My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered. King John, act 5. sc. 10. York. My uncles both are slain in rescuing me: And all my followers, to the eager foe Turn back, and fly like ships before the wind, Or lambs pursu’d by hunger-starved wolves. Third Part Henry VI. act 1. sc. 6. The latter of the two similes is good. The former, because of the faintness of the resemblance, produces no good effect, and crowds the narration with an useless image. The next error I shall mention is a capital one. In an epic poem, or in any elevated subject, a writer ought to avoid raising a simile upon a low image, which never fails to bring down the principal subject. In general, it is a rule, that a grand object ought never to be resembled to one that is diminutive, however delicate the resemblance may be. It is the peculiar character Meanwhile the troops beneath Patroculus’ care, Invade the Trojans, and commence the war. As wasps, provok’d by children in their play, Pour from their mansions by the broad high-way, In swarms the guiltless traveller engage, Whet all their stings, and call forth all their rage; All rise in arms, and with a general cry Assert their waxen domes, and buzzing progeny: Thus from the tents the fervent legion swarms, So loud their clamours, and so keen their arms. Iliad xvi. 312. So burns the vengeful hornet (soul all o’er) Repuls’d in vain, and thirsty still of gore; (Bold son of air and heat) on angry wings Untam’d, untir’d, he turns, attacks and stings. And sent his soul with ev’ry lance he threw. Iliad xvii. 642. Instant ardentes Tyrii: pars ducere muros, Molirique arcem, er manibus subvolvere saxa; Pars aptare locum tecto, et concludere sulco. Jura magistratusque legunt, sanctumque senatum. Hic portus alii effodiunt: hic alta theatris Fundamenta locant alii, immanesque columnas Rupibus excidunt, scenis decora alta futuris. Quails apes Æstate nova per florea rura Exercet sub sole labor, cum gentis adultos Educunt foetus, aut cum liquentia mella Stipant, et dulci distendunt nectare cellas, Aut onera accipiunt venientum, aut agmine facto Ignavum fucos pecus a prÆsepibus arcent. Fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella. Æneid i. 427. To describe bees gathering honey as resembling the builders of Carthage, would have a much better effect. Tum vero Teucri incumbunt, et littore celsas Deducunt toto naves: natat uncta carina; Frondentesque ferunt remos, et robora sylvis Infabricata, fugÆ studio. Migrantes cernas, totaque ex urbe ruentes. Cum populant, hyemis memores, tectoque reponunt: It nigrum campis agmen, prÆdamque per herbas Convectant calle angusto: pars grandia trudunt ObnixÆ frumenta humeris: pars agmina cogunt, Castigantque moras: opere omnis semita fervet. Æneid. iv. 397. The following simile has not any one beauty to recommend it. The subject is Amata the wife of King Latinus. Tum vero infelix, ingentibus excita monstris, Immensam sine more furit lymphata per urbem: Ceu quondam torto volitans sub verbere turbo, Quem pueri magno in gyro vacua atria circum Intenti ludo exercent. Ille actus habena Curvatis fertur spatiis: stupet inscia turba, Impubesque manus, mirata volubile buxum: Dant animos plagÆ. Non cursu segnior illo Per medias urbes agitur, populosque feroces. Æneid. vii. 376. This simile seems to border upon the burlesque. An error opposite to the former, is the introducing a resembling image, so elevated Fervet opus, redolentque thymo fragrantia mella. Ac veluti lentis Cyclopes fulmina massis Cum properant: alii taurinis follibus auras Accipiunt, redduntque: alii stridentia tingunt Æra lacu: gemit impositis incudibus Ætna: Illi inter sese magna vi brachia tollunt In numerum; versantque tenaci forcipe ferrum. Non aliter (si parva licet componere magnis) Cecropias innatus apes amor urget habendi, Munere quamque suo. GrandÆvis oppida curÆ, Et munire favos, et DÆdala fingere tecta. At fessÆ mult referunt se necte minores, Crura thymo plenÆ: pascuntur et arbuta passim, Et pinguem tiliam, et ferrugineos hyacinthos. Omnibus una quies operum, labor omnibus unus. Georgic. iv. 169. Tum Bitian ardentem oculis animisque frementem; Non jaculo, neque enim jaculo vitam ille dedisset; Sed magnum stridens contorta falarica venit Fulminis acta modo, quam nec duo taurea terga, Nec duplici squama lorica fidelis et auro Sustinuit: collapsa ruunt immania membra: Dat tellus gemitum, et clypeum super intonat ingens. Qualis in Euboico Baiarum littore quondam Saxea pila cadit, magnis quam molibus ante Constructam jaciunt ponto: sic illa ruinam Prona trahit, penitusque vadis illisa recumbit: Miscent se maria, et nigrÆ attolluntur arenÆ: Tum sonitu Prochyta alta tremit, durumque cubile Inarime Jovis imperiis imposta TyphoËo. Æneid. ix. 703. Loud as a bull makes hill and valley ring, So roar’d the lock when it releas’d the spring. Odyssey xxi. 51. Such a simile upon the simplest of all actions, that of opening a lock, is pure burlesque. A writer of delicacy will avoid drawing his comparisons from any image that is nauseous, ugly, or remarkably disagreeable: for however strong the resemblance may be, more will be lost than gained by such comparison. Therefore I cannot help condemning, though with some reluctance, the following simile, or rather metaphor. O thou fond many! with what loud applause Did’st thou beat heav’n with blessing Bolingbroke Before he was what thou wou’dst have him be? And now being trimm’d up in thine own desires, Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him, That thou provok’st thyself to cast him up. And so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard, And now thou wou’dst eat thy dead vomit up, And howl’st to find it. Second Part Henry IV. act 1. sc. 6. The strongest objection that can lie against a comparison, is, that it consists in words only, not in sense. Such false coin, or bastard wit, does extremely well in burlesque; but is far below the dignity of the epic, or of any serious composition: The noble sister of Poplicola, The moon of Rome; chaste as the isicle That’s curdled by the frost from purest snow, And hangs on Dian’s temple. Coriolanus, act 5. sc. 3. There is evidently no resemblance betwixt an isicle and a woman, chaste or unchaste. But chastity is cold in a metaphorical sense, and an isicle is cold in a proper 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. Lucian, in his dissertation upon history, talking of a certain author, makes the following comparison, which is verbal merely. This author’s descriptions are so cold, that they surpass the Caspian snow, and all the ice of the north. Virgil has not escaped this puerility: —— GalathÆa thymo mihi dulcior HyblÆ. Bucol. vii. 37. —— Ego Sardois videar tibi amarior herbis. Ibid. 41. Gallo, cujus amor tantum mihi crescit in horas, Quantum vere novo viridis se subjicit alnus. Buccol. x. 73. Nor Tasso, in his Aminta: Picciola e’ l’ape, e fa col picciol morso Pur gravi, e pur moleste le ferite; Ma, qual cosa É piÙ picciola d’amore, Se in ogni breve spatio entra, e s’asconde In ogni breve spatio? hor, sotto a l’ombra De le palpebre, hor trÀ minuti rivi D’un biondo crine, hor dentro le pozzette, Che forma un dolce riso in bella guancia; E pur fÁ tanto grandi, e si mortali, E cosi immedicabili le piaghe. Act 2. sc. 1. Nor Boileau, the chastest of all writers; and that even in his art of poetry: Ainsi tel autrefois, qu’on vit avec Faret Charbonner de ses vers les murs d’un cabaret, S’en va mal a’ propos, d’une voix insolente, Chanter du peuple He’breu la suite triomphante, Et poursuivant Moise au travers des dÉserts, Court avec Pharaon se noyer dans les mers. Chant. 1. l. 21. —— But for their spirits and souls This word rebellion had froze them up As fish are in a pond. Second Part Henry IV. act 1. sc. 3. Queen. The pretty vaulting sea refus’d to drown me; Knowing, that thou wou’dst have me drown’d on shore With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness. Second Part Henry VI. act 3. sc. 6. Here there is no manner of resemblance but in the word drown; for there is no real resemblance betwixt being drown’d at sea, and dying of grief at land. But perhaps this sort of tinsel wit, may have a propriety in it, when used to express an affected, not a real, passion, which was the Queen’s case. Pope has several similes of the same stamp. I shall transcribe one or two from the Essay on Man, the gravest and most instructive of all his performances. And hence one master-passion in the breast, Like Aaron’s serpent, swallows up the rest. Epist. 2. l. 131. And again, talking of this same ruling or master passion. Nature its mother, Habit is its nurse; Wit, spirit, faculties, but make it worse; Reason itself but gives it edge and pow’r; As heav’n’s blest beam turns vinegar more sowr. Ibid. l. 145. Lord Bolingbroke, speaking of historians: Where their sincerity as to fact is doubtful, we strike out truth by the confrontation of different accounts; as we strike out sparks of fire by the collision of flints and steel. Let us vary the phrase a very little, and there will not remain a shadow of resemblance. Thus, for example: We discover truth by the confrontation of different accounts; as we strike out sparks of fire by the collision of flints and steel. Racine makes Pyrrhus say to Andromaque, Vaincu, chargÉ de fers, de regrets consumÉ, BrulÉ de plus de feux que je n’en allumai, Helas! fus-je jamais si cruel que vous l’etÉs? And Orestes, in the same strain: Que les Scythes sont moins cruels qu’ Hermione. Similes of this kind put one in mind of a ludicrous French song: Je croyois Janneton Aussi douce que belle: Je croyois Janneton Plus douce qu’un mouton; Helas! helas! Elle est cent fois, mille fois, plus cruelle Que n’est le tigre aux bois. Again, Helas! l’amour m’a pris, Comme le chat fait la souris. A vulgar Irish ballad begins thus: I have as much love in store As there’s apples in Portmore. Where the subject is burlesque or ludicrous, such similes are far from being improper. Horace says pleasantly, Quanquam tu levior cortice. L. 3. ode 9. And Shakespear, In breaking oaths he’s stronger than Hercules. And this leads me to observe, that beside the foregoing comparisons, which are all serious, there is a species, the end and purpose of which is to excite gaiety or mirth. Take the following examples. Falstaff, speaking to his page: I do here walk before thee, like a sow that hath overwhelmed all her litter but one. Second Part Henry IV. act 1. sc. 4. I think he is not a pick-purse, nor a horse-stealer; but for his verity in love, I do think him as As you like it, act 3. sc. 10. This sword a dagger had his page, That was but little for his age; And therefore waited on him so As dwarfs upon knights-errant do. Hudibras, canto 1. Desciption of Hudibras’s horse: He was well stay’d, and in his gait Preserv’d a grave, majestic state. At spur or switch no more he skipt, Or mended pace, than Spaniard whipt: And yet so fiery he would bound, As if he griev’d to touch the ground: That CÆsar’s horse, who, as fame goes, Had corns upon his feet and toes, Was not by half so tender hooft, Nor trod upon the ground so soft. And as that beast would kneel and stoop, (Some write) to take his rider up; So Hudibras his (’tis well known) Would often do, to set him down. Canto 1. Honour is, like a widow, won With brisk attempt and putting on, Not slow approaches, like a virgin. Canto 1. The sun had long since in the lap Of Thetis taken out his nap; And, like a lobster boil’d, the morn From black to red began to turn. Part 2. canto 2. Books, like men, their authors, have but one way of coming into the world; but there are ten thousand to go out of it, and return no more. Tale of a Tub. And in this the world may perceive the difference between the integrity of a generous author, and that of a common friend. The latter is observed to adhere close in prosperity, but on the decline of fortune, to drop suddenly off: whereas the generous author, just on the contrary, finds his hero on the dunghill, from thence by gradual steps raises him to a throne, and then immediately withdraws, expecting not so much as thanks for his pains. Tale of a Tub. The most accomplish’d way of using books at present is, to serve them as some do lords, learn Tale of a Tub. Box’d in a chair, the beau impatient sits, While spouts run clatt’ring o’er the roof by fits; And ever and anon with frightful din The leather sounds; he trembles from within. So when Troy chairmen bore the wooden steed, Pregnant with Greeks, impatient to be freed, (Those bully Greeks, who, as the moderns do, Instead of paying chairmen, run them through), Laocoon struck the outside with his spear, And each imprison’d hero quak’d for fear. Description of a city shower. Swift. Clubs, diamonds, hearts, in wild disorder seen, With throngs promiscuous strow the level green. Thus when dispers’d a routed army runs, Of Asia’s troops, and Afric’s sable sons, With like confusion different nations fly, Of various habit, and of various dye, The pierc’d battalions disunited, fall In heaps on heaps; one fate o’erwhelms them all. Rape of the Lock, canto 3. He does not consider, that sincerity in love is as much out of fashion as sweet snuff; no body takes it now. Careless Husband. Lady Easy. My dear, I am afraid you have provoked her a little too far. Sir Charles. O! Not at all. You shall see, I’ll sweeten her, and she’ll cool like a dish of tea. Ibid. |
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