All nature felt a reverential shock, The fea stood still to fee the mountains rock *. CHAP. XI. The figures continued: of the magnifying and diminishing figures. A GENUINE writer of the profund will take care never to magnify any object without clouding it at the fame time: his thought will appear in a true mift, and very unlike what is in nature. It must always be remembered, that darkness is an effential quality of the pro fund, or if there chance to be a glimmering, it must be, as Milton exprefles it, No light, but rather darkness vifible. The chief figure of this fort is, The HYPERBOLE, or impoffible. For instance, of a lion. He roar'd fo loud, and look'd fo wondrous grim, Of a lady at dinner. The filver whitenefs that adorns thoy neck, Of the fame. The obfcureness of her birth Cannot eclipfe the lure of her eyes, Which make her all one light . Of a bull-baiting. Up to the ftars the fprauling maftives fly, ་ Of a scene of misery. Behold a fcene of mifery and woe! Here Argos foon might weep himself quite blind, To wipe his bundred eyes * And that modest request of two abfent lovers: Ye Gods! annihilate but space and time, 3. The PERIPHRASIS, which the moderns call the circumbendibus, whereof we have given examples in the ninth chapter, and fhall again in the twelth. To the fame clafs of the magnifying may be referred the following, which are so excellently modern, that we have yet no name for them. In defcribing a country profpect, I'd call them mountains, but can't call them fo, III. The last clafs remains; of the diminishing, 1. The ANTICLIMAX, and figures: where the fecond line drops quite fhort of the firft, than which nothing creates greater furprize. On the extent of the British arms. Under the Tropics is our Language Spoke, On a warrior. And thou Dalhouffy, the great God of war, On the valour of the English. Nor art nor nature has the force Nor Alps nor Pyrenæans keep it out, At other times this figure operates in a larger extent; and when the gentle reader is in expectation of fome great image, he either finds it furprisingly imperfect, or is prefented with fomething low, or quite ridiculous a furprize refembling that of a curious perfon in a cabinet of antic ftatues, who beholds on the pedeltal the names of Ho mer, or Cato; but looking up finds Homer without a head, and nothing to be feen of Cato but his privy-member. Such are thefe lines of a Leviathan at fea, His motion works, and beats the oozy mud, But perhaps even these are excelled by the enfuing. Now the refifted flames and fiery fore, 2. The VULGAR. is alfo a fpecies of the diminishing: by this a fpear flying into the air is compared to a boy whistling as he goes on an errand. * Denn. on Namur. Blackm. Job, p. 197. Prince Arthur, p. 157. The The mighty Stuffa threw a mally spear, Which, with its errand pleas'd, fung through the air *. A man raging with grief, to a mastiff dog," I cannot fifle this gigantic woe, Nor on my raging grief a muzzle throw t. and clouds big with water,to a woman in great neceffity. Diftended with the waters in 'em pent, The clouds hang deep in air, but hang unrent. 3. The INFANTINE. This is, when a poet grows fo very fimple as to think and talk like a child. I fhall take my examples from the greatest mafter in this way: hear how he tondles like as mere ftammerer. Little charm of placid mien, When the meadows next are feen, When again the lambkins play, Then the neck fo white and round, Hippy thrice, and thrice agen, + Job, p. 41. * Prince Arthur. H 2 and and the reft of thofe excellent lullabies of his compofi. tian. How prettily he asks the sheep to teach him to bleat? Teach me to grieve with bleating moan, my sheep *. Hear how a bibe would reafon on his nurse's death, That ever he could die! Oh most unkind! With no lefs fimplicity docs he fuppofe, that shepher deffes tear their hair and beat their breafts at their own deaths: Ye brighter maids, faint emblems of my fair, 4. The INANITY, or NOTHINGNESS. Of this the fame author furnishes us with most beautiful inftances.. Ah filly I, more filly than my fheep, To the grave fenate she did csunfel give, He whom loud cannon could not terrify, Happy, merry as a king, Sipping dewyou fip, and fing ‡‡. Where you eafily perceive the nothingness of every fécond verfe. |