figure: war, peace, darts, spears, towns, rivers, every thing, in short, is alive in his writings. The same is the case with Milton and Shakspeare. One of the greatest pleasures which we derive from poetry, is to find ourselves always in the midst of our fellows, and to see every thing feeling and acting like ourselves. This is perhaps the principal charm of the figurative style, that it introduces us into society with all nature, and interests us even in inanimate objects, by forming a connexion between them and us, through that sensibility which it ascribes to them.

It yet remains to treat of the highest degree of this figure; which consists in introducing inanimate objects and irrational beings not only as feeling and acting, but also as listening and speaking. Personification in this degree, though on several occasions far from being unnatural, is very difficult in the management. It is the boldest of all rhetorical figures: it is the style of strong passion only; and therefore ought never to be attempted, unless when the mind is considerably heated and agitated. The introduction of some object inanimate, acting as if it had life, can be relished by the mind in the midst of cool description; but we must be in a state of considerable emotion, before we can so far realize the personification of an insensible object, as to conceive it listening to what we say, or returning an answer to our address. All strong passions however have a tendency to produce this figure; not only love, anger, and indignation, but even those which are seemingly more depressing, such as grief, remorse and melancholy. In the subsequent passage Gray introduces an address from "the insect youth."

Having thus treated of the nature of personification, and of its different degrees, it remains to shew in what cases it may be introduced with propriety, when it is suitable, when unsuitable.

After a passionate personification is properly introduced, it ought to be confined to its distinct province, that of gratifying some predominant passion. Every sentiment which is unconnected with this design, ought to be rejected. The passion of love, for example, in a plaintive tone, may bestow a momentary life upon woods and rocks, to make them witnesses of the lover's constancy or distress; but no passion will easily support a conviction so far stretched, that those woods and rocks should report that constancy or distress to others. It is not, however, safe to prescribe mechanical rules to transcendent genius, which will often establish rules by the success of its own daring efforts.

If extraordinary marks of respect to a person of low condition be ridiculous, not less so is the personification of a low subject. This rule chiefly regards descriptive personification; for a subject can hardly be regarded as mean or low that is the cause of a violent passion; in that circumstance at least, it must be of importance. No positive rules, however, can be assigned with regard to what objects should be selected, and what avoided; the ultimate appeal must always lie to the decision of taste. A poet of superior genius, possessing the power of inflaming the mind, may take liberties which would be dangerous in others. Homer does not appear extravagant in animating his darts and arrows; Thomson in animating the seasons, the winds, the rains, the dews. The latter of these poets even ventures to animate the diamond; and this he does with great propriety. But there are objects familiar and base, to which personification cannot properly descend. In a composed state of mind, to animate a lump of matter even in the most rapid flight of fancy, degenerates into burlesque.

How now? what noise? that spirit's possessed with haste,
That wounds the unresisting postern with these strokes.

nor

Shakspeare.

The employment of descriptive personification requires a considerable degree of caution. A personage in tragedy, agitated by some strong passion, is inspired with warm and lofty sentiments, and the reader catching fire by sympathy, relishes the boldest personifications; but a writer, even in the most lively description, ought to content himself with such figures of this kind as agree with the tone of mind inspired by the description. Nor is even the lowest degree of personification to be admitted upon every occasion; for in plain narrative, the mind, serious and sedate, entirely rejects the figure. Upon certain occasions, a reader can even without passion imagine the winds to be animated; but still the winds are the subject, and any action ascribed to them contrary to their usual operation, appearing unnatural, seldom fails to banish the illusion. The reader's imagination, too far strained, refuses its aid; and the description becomes obscure, instead of being more luminous. In Campbell's Ode to Winter, the personification, though carried to a great extent, is managed with evident propriety and skill.

This figure requires to be used with greater moderation in prose than in poetry; for, in prose, the same assistance cannot be obtained for raising passion to its proper height by the force of numbers and the glow of style. Yet from this species of composition, addresses to objects inanimate are by no means excluded; they have their place in the loftier kind of oratory. A public speaker may on some occasions very properly address religion or virtue, or his country, or some city or province, which has perhaps suffered great calamities, or been the scene of some memorable event. But it ought to be remembered, that, as such addresses are among the highest efforts of eloquence, they should never be attempted, unless by persons of more than ordinary genius. Of all frigid things, the most frigid are the awkward and unseasonable attempts sometimes made towards such kinds of personification, especially if they be long continued: we perceive the writer labouring to imitate the language of some passion which

he neither feels himself, nor is capable of exciting in others.

Roscoe has remarked that "if the moderns excel the ancients in any department of poetry, it is in that now under consideration. It must not indeed be supposed that the ancients were insensible of the effects produced by this powerful charm. But it may safely be asserted, that they have availed themselves of this creative faculty much more sparingly, and with much less success, than their modern competitors. The attribution of sense to inert objects is indeed common to both; but the still bolder exertion which embodies abstract existence, and renders it susceptible of ocular representation, is almost exclusively the boast of the moderns."*

APOSTROPHE.

APOSTROPHE is a figure nearly allied to personification, with which it is sometimes confounded. It consists in bestowing an ideal presence upon real persons, either dead or absent. We address them as if they stood before us listening to the overflowing of our passion.

Strike the harp in praise of Bragela, whom I left in the isle of mist, the spouse of my love. Dost thou raise thy fair face from the rock to find the sails of Cuchullin ? The sea is rolling far distant, and its white foam shall deceive thee for my sails. Retire, for it is night, my love, and the dark winds sigh in thy hair. Retire to the hall of my feasts, and think of the times that are past; for I will not return till the storm of war is gone.—Ossian.

Never, O little flock! from which I was torn by the cruel fate of war, never shall I be unmindful of the sacred ties that united us, of the uninterrupted harmony which we enjoyed, and of those fruits of the Spirit, goodness, righteousness, and truth, which exhibited

*Roscoe's Life of Lorenzo de' Medici, vol. i. p. 357.

I

among you the most convincing proofs of the energy of the gospel. Never shall I forget that melancholy day on which I was separated from you, without one public opportunity of "commending you to God, and to his grace," without one affectionate expression, without one adieu.-Brown's Sermons.

In these examples, an address is made to persons that are absent but addresses are also made to the dead.

Oh thor.! with whom my heart was wont to share
From reason's dawn each pleasure and each care;
With whom, alas! I fondly hoped to know
The humble walks of happiness below;

If thy blest nature now unites above

An angel's pity with a brother's love,

Still o'er my life preserve thy mild control,
Correct my views, and elevate my soul.-Rogers.
Departed spirits of the mighty dead!

Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled!

Friends of the world! restore your swords to man,
Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van!

Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone,
And make her arm puissant as your own!

Oh! once again to Freedom's cause return

The patriot Tell, the Bruce of Bannockburn!—Campbell.

In the preceding examples, the persons addressed are supposed to be either present, or at least to listen to the speakers.

It requires a less violent effort of imagination to suppose persons present who are absent or dead, than to animate insensible beings, and direct our discourse to them. This figure may therefore be introduced where personification in its highest degree would be improper. It must not however be employed except when the mind is in some measure under the dominion of passion.