forsaken, and compare and collate the distresses of all men, in all countries."

The next figure concerning which we are to treat is called Hyperbole or Exaggeration. It consists in magnifying an object beyond its natural bounds. In all languages, even in common conversation, hyberbolical expressions very frequently occur: as swift as the wind; as white as the snow; and the like; and the common forms of compliment, are almost all of them extravagant hyperboles. If any thing be remarkably good or great in its kind, we are instantly ready to add to it some exaggerating epithet, and to make it the greatest or best we ever saw. The imagination has always a tendency to gratify itself, by magnifying its present object, and carrying it to excess. More or less of this hyperbolical turn will prevail in language, according to the liveliness of imagination among the people who speak it. Hence young people deal much in hyperboles. Hence the language of the Orientals was far more hyperbolical, than that of the Europeans, who are of more phlegmatic, or, perhaps we may say, of more correct imagination. Hence, among all writers in early times, and in the rude periods of society, we may expect this figure to abound. Greater experience, and more cultivated society, abate the warmth of imagination, and chasten the manner of expression.

Hyperboles are of two kinds; either such as are employed in description, or such as are suggested by the warmth of passion. All passions without exception, love, terror, amazement, indignation, and even grief, throw the mind into confusion, aggravate their objects, and of course prompt a hyperbolical style. Hence the following sentiments of Satan in Milton, as strongly as they are described, contain nothing but what is natural and proper; exhibiting the picture of a mind agitated with rage and despair.

Me, miserable! which way shall I fly
Infinite wrath, and infinite despair?
Which way I fly is Hell, myself am Hell ;
And in the lowest depth, a lower deep,
Still threat'ning to devour me, opens wide,
To which the Hell I suffer seems a Heaven.

The fear of an enemy augments the conceptions of the size of their leader. "I saw their chief," says the scout of Ossian, " tall as a rock of ice; his spear, the blasted fir; his shield, the rising moon: he sat on the shore, like a cloud of mist on the hill."

The errors frequent in the use of Hyperboles, arise either from overstraining, or introducing them on unsuitable occa-

sions.

Dryden, in his poem on the restoration of king Charles the Second, compliments that monarch, at the expense of the sun himself.

That star at your birth shone out so bright,

It stain'd the duller sun's meridian light.

This is indeed mere bombast. It is difficult to ascertain, by any precise rule, the proper measure and boundary of this figure. Good sense and just taste must determine the point, beyond which, if we pass, we become extravagant.

Vision is another figure of speech, which is proper only in animated and warm composition. It is produced when, instead of relating something that is passed, we use the present tense, and describe it as actually passing before our eyes. Thus Cicero, in his fourth oration against Catiline: "I seem to myself to behold this city, the ornament of the earth, and the capital of all nations, suddenly involved in one conflagration. I see before me the slaughtered heaps of citizens, lying unburied in the midst of their ruined country. The furious countenance of Cethegus rises to my view, while, with a savage joy, he is triumphing in your miseries."

This manner of description supposes a sort of enthusiasm, which carries the person who describes, in some measure out of himself; and, when well executed, must needs, by the force of sympathy, impress the reader or hearer very strongly. But, in order to a successful execution, it requires an uncommonly warm imagination, and so happy a selection of circumstances, as shall make us think we see before our eyes the scene that is described.

Interrogation. The unfigured, literal use of interrogation, is to ask a question: but when men are strongly moved, whatever they would affirm or deny, with great earnestness, they naturally put in the form of a question, expressing thereby the strongest confidence of the truth of their own sentiment, and appealing to their hearers for the impossibility of the contrary. Thus Balaam expressed himself to Balak. "The Lord is not a man that he should lie, neither the son of man that he should repent. Hath he said it? and shall he not do it? Hath he spoken it? and shall he not make it good ?"

Interrogation gives life and spirit to discourse. We see this in the animated, introductory speech of Cicero against Catiline: "How long will you, Catiline, abuse our patience? Do you not perceive that your designs are discovered ?"— He might indeed have said; "You abuse our patience a long while. You must be sensible, that your designs are discovered." But it is easy to perceive, how much this latter mode

of expression falls short of the force and vehemence of the former.

Exclamations are the effect of strong emotions of the mind; such as, surprise, admiration, joy, grief, and the like. "Wo is me that I sojourn in Mesech, that I dwell in the tents of Kedar!" Psalms.

"O that my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might weep day and night, for the slain of the daughter of my people! O that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of wayfaring men!" Jeremiah.

Though interrogations may be introduced into close and earnest reasoning, exclamations belong only to strong emotions of the mind. When judiciously employed, they agitate the hearer or the reader with similar passions: but it is extremely improper, and sometimes ridiculous, to use them on trivial occasions, and on mean or low subjects. The unexperienced writer, often attempts to elevate his language, by the copious display of this figure: but he rarely or never succeeds. He frequently renders his composition frigid to excess, or absolutely ludicrous, by calling on us to enter into his transports, when nothing is said or done to demand emotion.

Irony is expressing ourselves in a manner contrary to our thoughts, not with a view to deceive, but to add force to our observations. Persons may be reproved for their negligence, by saying; "You have taken great care indeed." Cicero says of the person against whom he was pleading; "We have great reason to believe that the modest man would not ask him for his debt, when ne pursues his life."

Ironical exhortation is a very agrreeable kind of figure: which, after having set the inconveniences of a thing in the clearest light, concludes with a feigned encouragement to pursue it. Such is that of Horace, when, having beautifully described the noise and tumults of Rome, he adds ironically;

"Go now, and study tuneful verse at Rome."

The subjects of Irony are vices and follies of all kinds and this mode of exposing them, is often more effectual than serious reasoning. The gravest persons have not declined the use of this figure, on proper occasions. The wise and virtuous Socrates made great use of it, in his endeavours to discountenance vicious and foolish practices. Even in the sacred writings, we have a remarkable instance of it. The prophet Elijah, when he challenged the priests of Baal to prove the truth of their deity, "mocked them, and said: Cry aloud. for he is a god: either he is talking, or he is pursuing,

or he is in a journey, or peradventure he sleepeth, and must be awaked."

Exclamations and Irony are sometimes united: as in Cicero's oration for Balbus, where he derides his accuser, by saying; "O excellent interpreter of the law! master of antiquity! corrector and amender of our constitution!"

The last figure of speech that we shall mention, is what writers call Amplification or climax. It consists in heightening all the circumstances of an object or action, which we desire to place in a strong light. Cicero gives a lively instance of this figure, when he says; "It is a crime to put a Roman citizen in bonds; it is the height of guilt to scourge him; little less than parricide to put him to death: what name then shall I give to the act of crucifying him ?"

Archbishop Tillotson uses this figure very happily, to recommend good and virtuous actions: "After we have practised good actions awhile, they become easy; and when they are easy, we begin to take pleasure in them; and when they please us, we do them frequently; and by frequency of acts, a thing grows into a habit; and confirmed habit is a kind of second nature; and so far as any thing is natural, so far it is necessary; and we can hardly do otherwise; nay, we do it many times when we do not think of it.”

We shall conclude this article with an example of a beautiful climax, taken from the charge of a judge to the jury, in the case of a woman accused of murdering her own child. "Gentlemen, if one man had any how slain another; if an adversary had killed his opposer, or a woman occasioned the death of her enemy; even these criminals would have been capitally punished by the Cornelian law; but if this guiltless infant, that could make no enemy, had been murdered by its own nurse, what punishment would not then the mother have demanded? With what cries and exclamations would she have stunned your ears! What shall we say then, when a woman, guilty of homicide, a mother, of the murder of her innocent child, hath comprised all those misdeeds in one single crime? a crime, in its own nature, detestable ; in a woman, prodigious; in a mother, incredible; and perpetrated against one whose age called for compassion, whose near relation claimed affection, and whose innocence deserved the highest favour."

We have now finished what was proposed, concerning Perspicuity in single words and phrases, and the accurate construction of sentences. The former has been considered under the heads of Purity, Propriety, and Precision; and the latter, under those of Clearness, Unity, Strength, and the

proper use of Figurative Language. Though many of those attentions which have been recommended, may appear minute, yet their effect upon writing and style, is much greater than might, at first, be imagined. A sentiment which is expressed in accurate language, and in a period, clearly, neatly, and well arranged, always makes a stronger impression on the mind, than one that is expressed inaccurately, or in a feeble or embarrassed manner. Every one feels this upon a comparison: and if the effect be sensible in one sentence, how much more in a whole discourse, or composition that is made ap of such sentences?

The fundamental rule for writing with accuracy, and into which all others might be resolved, undoubtedly is, to communicate, in correct language, and in the clearest and most natural order, the ideas which we mean to transfuse into the ninds of others. Such a selection and arrangement of words, s do most justice to the sense, and express it to most adantage, make an agreeable and strong impression. To these points have tended all the rules which have been given. Did we always think clearly, and were we, at the same time, fully masters of the language in which we write, there would be occasion for few rules. Our sentences would then, of course, acquire all those properties of clearness, unity, strength, and accuracy, which have been recommended. For we may rest assured, that whenever we express ourselves ill, besides the mismanagement of language, there is, for the most part, some mistake in our manner of conceiving the subject. Embarrassed, obscure, and feeble sentences, are generally, if not always, the result of embarrassed, ebscure, and feeble thought. Thought and expression act and re-act upon each other. The understanding and language have a strict connexion; and they who are learning to compose and arrange their sentences with accuracy and order, are learning, at the same time, to think with accuracy and order; a consideration which alone will recompense the student, for his attention to this branch of literature. For a further explanation of the Figures of Speech, see the Octavo Grammar, on this subject.