the stars. of an epic poem, with its beginning of promise, its heroic middle, and its peaceful end, and partaking, too, somewhat of the same cold stateliness noble, however, still, and glorious, and ever pointing, as such poem does, to Sic itur ad astra. The life of Hamilton, on the other hand, broken and fragmentary, begun in the darkness of romantic interest, run ning on into the sympathy of a high passion, and at length breaking off in the midst, like some half-told tale of sorrow, amid tears and blood, even as does the theme of the tragic poet. The name of Hamilton, therefore, was a name to conjure with; that of Jay, to swear by. Hamilton had his frailties, arising out of passion, as tragic heroes have. Jay's name was faultless, and his course passionless, as becomes the epic leader, and, in point of fact, was, while living, a name at which frailty blushed, and corruption trembled. If we ask whence, humanly speaking, came such disparity of the fate between equals, the stricter morals, the happier life, the more peaceful death, to what can we trace it but to the healthful power of religion over the heart and conduct? Was not this, we ask, the ruling secret? Hamilton was a Christian in his youth, and a penitent Christian, we doubt not, on his dying bed; but Jay was a Christian, so far as man may judge, every day and hour of his life. He had but one rule, the gospel of Christ; in that he was nurtured, ruled by that, through grace, he lived,-resting on that, in prayer, he died. Admitting, then, as we do, both names to be objects of our highest sym pathetic admiration, yet, with the name of Hamilton, as the master says of tragedy, the lesson is given "with pity and in fear." Not so with that of Jay; with him we walk fearless, as in the steps of one who was a CHRIS TIAN as well as a PATRIOT. Exercises. A Parallel between the Old and New Testament. between the writings of St. Paul and St. John. " The Profession of the Law and that of Divinity. The invention of the art of printing with the discovery of the application of steam to mechanical purposes. XLIII. ALLEGORY. Allegory* is a species of writing, in which one thing is ex * Dr. Blair says, "An allegory is a continued metaphor; as it is the representation of one thing by another that resembles it." And under the head of metaphor he says, "When the resemblance which is the foundation of this figure is long dwelt upon, and carried into all its minute circum stances, an allegory is produced instead of a metaphor," pressed, and another is understood. The analogy is intended to be so obvious that the reader cannot miss the application; but he is left to draw the proper conclusion for his own use. It is, for this reason, chiefly employed when a writer desires to com. municate some important intelligence or advice; but is not permitted, or does not wish, to deliver it in plain terms. It is also used for ornament, or to convey instruction, so as to interest the imagination, and flatter the understanding, by giving the reader the appearance of instructing himself Allegories are of three kinds: first, those designed for or nament; secondly, those designed for instruction; and, thirdly, those intended both to adorn and instruct. In employing allegories, care must be taken that the phraseology be all figurative, and that the attributes of the primary and secondary object be not confounded and interchanged. Example 1st.* PATIENCE, AN ALLEGORY. Patience was the child of Forbearance and Gentleness, and they lived in the town of Perseverance. When very young, she began to exercise that virtue which was afterwards named from her. She was a very extraordinary child, and it has ever been said of her, that she could work all things. She had an aunt called Adversity, who troubled her very much, but, it was observed, that the more she was subjected to the trials of this relation, the more brightly the lustre of her character shone forth; for, while her uncle, Prosperity, was near her, she seemed to have no opportunity of exercising her graces. She had a grandmother, (on her mother's side,) named Meekness, and she seemed to imbibe many of This allegory was written by one of the pupils of the school under the charge of the author. It is presented just as it was written by the young lady, who, though but "just in her teens," has certainly sustained the figure throughout in excellent "keeping." As instances of the allegory, which may be studied and imitated, may be mentioned, "The Hill of Science," and, "The Journey of a Day, a Picture of Human Life," by Johnson; " An Eastern Narrative," by Hawks worth, entitled, "No Life pleasing to God which is not useful to Man;" "The Eightieth Psalm of David;" No. 55 of the "Spectator;" and The Pilgrim's Progress," which is, perhaps, the longest allegory ever written. To these may be added a very recent little work of Charles Dickens, on biled, "A Christmas Carol," which cannot be too highly commended for the moral lesson which it conveys. the qualities of that excellent lady. She also had a grandfather, Goodness, whose blood seemed to run in her veins in a large degree. All who lived in her neighborhood used to say, that she was the loveliest child they ever beheld. But, although so much admired, she had no Pride about her, though Vanity, an old man living in the vicinity, used to lay a claim to relationship with her. She was very much troubled by his daughters, Selfconceit and Foolishness, but she never retorted in the least. Even they themselves could not say, that they had ever heard an angry word proceed from her lips, and, although they tried to disturb and ruffle her uniform good nature, they never could succeed so far, as even to be able to say, that she ever appeared to cherish a wrathful spirit. She had no Hatred about her, neither would she foster Spite or Malice in her innocent heart. She made rapid advances from day to day, in every good word and work, and her name even became a proverb among all who knew her. Mothers made her an example to their daughters, and fathers did not forget her when admonishing their sons. She became more beloved and respected every day of her life, by all, for no one could see her without admiring her for her many good qualities. She appeared to be compounded of all the qualities that adorn the female character, without the least mixture of anything bad. In due time she was married to a young gentleman, by the name of Longsuffering. Some of the most distinguished among her children were Faith, Hope, and Charity. Example 2d. THE EMPIRE OF POETRY. BY FONTENELLE. This empire is a very large and populous country. It is divided, like some of the countries on the continent, into the higher and lower regions. The upper region is inhabited by grave, melancholy and sullen people, who, like other mountaineers, speak a language very different from that of the inhabitants of the valleys. The trees in this part of the country are very tall, having their tops among the clouds. Their horses are superior to those of Barbary, being fleeter than the winds. Their women are so beautiful as to eclipse the star of day. The great city which you see in the maps, beyond the lofty mountains, is the capital of this province, and is called Epic. It is built on a sandy and ungrateful soil, which few take the trouble to cultivatc. The length of the city is many days' journey, and it is otherwise of a tiresome extent. On leaving its gate, we always meet with men who are killing one another; whereas, when we pass through Romance, which forms the suburbs of Epic, and 1ch is larger than the city itself, we meet with groups of happy people, wh are hastening to the shrine of Hymen. The Mountains of Tragedy are also in the province of Upper Poetry. They are very steep, with dangerous precipices: and, in consequence, many of its people build their habitations at the bottom of the hills, and imagine themselves high enough. There have been found on these mountains some very beautiful ruins of ancient citiès; and, from time to time, the materials are carried lower down to build new cities; for they now never build nearly so high as they seem to have done in former times. The Lower Poetry is very similar to the swamps of Holland. Burlesque is the capital, which is situated amidst stagnant pools. Princes speak there as if they had sprung from the dunghill, and all the inhabitants are buffoons from their birth. Comedy is a city which is built on a pleasant spot, but it is too near to burlesque, and its trade with this place has much degraded the manners of its citizens. I beg that you will notice, on the map, those vast solitudes which lie be tween High and Low Poetry, They are called the deserts of Common Sense. There is not a single city in the whole of this extensive country, and only a few cottages scattered at a distance from one another. The in terior of the country is beautiful and fertile, but you need not wonder that there are so few who choose to reside in it; for the entrance is very rugged on all sides; the roads are narrow and difficult; and there are seldom any guides to be found, who are capable of conducting strangers. Besides, this country borders on a province where every person prefers to remain, because it appears to be very agreeable, and saves the trouble of penetrating into the Deserts of Common Sense. It is the Province of False Thoughts. Here we always tread on flowers, every thing seems enchanting. But its greatest inconvenience is, that the ground is not solid; the foot is always sinking in the mire, however careful one may be. Elegy is the Capital. Here the people do nothing but complain; but it is said that they find a pleasure in their complaints. The city is surrounded with woods and rocks, where the inhabitant walks alone, making them the con fidants of his secrets; of the discovery of which he is so much afraid, that he often conjures those woods and rocks never to betray them. The Empire of Poetry is watered by two rivers. One is the River Rhyme, which has its source at the foot of the Mountains of Reverie. The tops of some of these mountains are so elevated, that they pierce the clouds. Those are called the Points of Sublime Thought. Many climb there by extraordinary efforts; but almost the whole tumble down again, and excite, by their fall, the ridicule of those who admired them at first without knowing why. There are large platforms, almost at the bottom of these mountains, which are called the Terraces of Low Thoughts. There are always a great number of people walking upon them. At the end of these terraces are the Caverns of Deep Reverie. Those who descend into them do so insensibly; being so much enwrapt in their meditations, that they enter the caverns before they are aware. These caverns are perfect labyrinths, and the dif ficulty of getting out again could scarcely be believed by those who have not been there. Above the terraces we sometimes meet with men walking in easy paths, which are termed the Paths of Natural Thoughts; and these gentlemen ridicule, equally, those who try to scale the Points of Sublime Thoughts, as well as those who grovel on the terraces below. They would be in the right, if they could keep undeviatingly in the Paths of Natural Thoughts; but they fall almost instantly into a snare, by entering into a splen did palace, which is at a very little distance. It is the Palace of Badinage. Scarcely have they entered, when, in place of the natural thoughts which they formerly had, they dwell upon such only as are mean and vulgar. Those, however, who never abandon the Paths of Natural Thoughts, are the most rational of all. They aspire no higher than they ought, and their thoughts are never at variance with sound judgment. Besides the River Rhyme, which I have described as issuing from the foot of the mountains, there is another called the River of Reason. These two rivers are at a great distance from one another, and, as they have a very Jifferent course, they could not be made to communicate, except by canals, which would cost a great deal of labor. For these canals of communication could not be formed at all places, because there is only one part of the River Rhyme which is in the neighborhood of the River Reason, and hence many cities situated on the Rhyme, such as Roundelay and Ballad, could have no commerce with the Reason, whatever pains might be taken for that purpose. Further, it would be necessary that these canals should cross the Deserts of Common Sense, as you will see by the map; and that it is almost an unknown country. The Rhyme is a large river, whose course is crooked and unequal, and, on account of its numerous falls, it is extremely difficult to navigate. On the contrary, the Reason is very straight and regular, but it does not carry vessels of every burthen. There is, in the Land of Poetry, a very obscure forest, where the rays of the sun never enter. It is the forest of Bombast. The trees are close, spreading, and twined into each other. The forest is so ancient, that it has become a sort of sacrilege to prune its trees, and there is no probability that the ground will ever be cleared. A few steps into this forest and we lose our road without dreaming that we have gone astray. It is full of im perceptible labyrinths, from which no one ever returns. The Reason is lost in this forest. The extensive province of Imitation is very sterile. It produces nothing. The inhabitants are extremely poor, and are obliged to glean in the richer fields of the neighboring provinces; and some even make fortunes by this beggarly occupation. The Empire of Poetry is very cold towards the north, and, consequently, this quarter is the most populous. There are the cities of Anagram and Acrostic, with several others of a similar description. Finally, in that sea which bounds the States of Poetry, there is the Island of Satire, surrounded with bitter waves. The salt from the water is very strong and dark colored. The greater part of the brooks of this Island resemble the Nile in this, that their sources are unknown; but it is particularly remarkable, that there is not one of them whose waters are fresh. part of the same sea is called the Archipelago of Trifles. The French term it L'Archipel des Bagatelles, and their voyagers are well acquainted with those islands. Nature seems to have thrown them up in sport, as she did those of the Egean Sea. The principal islands are the Madrigal, the Song, and the Impromptu. No lands can be lighter than those islands, for they float upon the waters. Example 3d. A A humming bird once met a butterfly, and being pleased with the beauty of its person and the glory of its wings, made an offer of perpetual friendship. I cannot think of it, was the reply, as you once spurned me, and called me a drawling dolt. Impossible, cried the humming bird; I always entertained the highest respect for such beautiful creatures as you. Perhaps you do now, said the other; but, when you insulted me, I was a caterpillar. So let me give you this piece of advice: Never insult the humble, as they may one day become your superiors. Exercises. What subject can be illustrated by an allegory with the following hints or aids? |