rities have applied them. This is the good old traditionary custom of handling the intellectual weapons in the style of some great literary fugle-man; and good Dugald Stewart is seriously alarmed, lest in the application of words composers abandon the authority of Addison and Swift, and run wild like savages in the woods of etymology; for too much freedom of style would be very dangerous to the whole etiquette of true taste, tender delicacy, and all the retinue of literary despotism: sober-minded authors too who are industriously inventive in finding out precedents and references, can shelter themselves under the authority of that tall, towering genius, Addison, like asses under a stately shrub.

It is the applying of words only in a certain authorised manner that gives to composition that wornout character-that badge of meanness, poverty and absolute pauperism which literature wears in the old age of invention: the garb is indeed very fine, very fashionable, well-brushed, neatly made, fitted and put on; but it is miserably old, thin and thread-bare; it evidently came out of a second-hand shop, or belongs to a poor gentleman in reduced circumstances.

The meanings and the applications of words are as different as any weapon or instrument and the uses to which it is applied, or the manner in which it is handled. The uses or applications of words should be directed solely by their meaning: any other rule of composition is arbitrary and enslaving; and, as I have so often repeated, arbitrariness and slavish

ness are destructive of intellectual excellence. It would be amusing to see the long ever-dwindling train of literary pages of pages well represented on paper or canvass: what a stately procession of Tom Thumbs and Punch puppets would be seen rank and file at the tail of Addison or Pope, tapering down one after another, like descending steps of a stair to the giant stature of industrious ants, mites and animalculæ ;-posting from sentence to sentence in quest of precedents, or applications of words by their great lawgivers and supreme judges !

WHOEVER WOULD HAVE A GOOD STYLE MUST DISREGARD ALL THE POPULAR AND FASHIONABLE DOCTRINES ON THE SUBJECT.

The above proposition is in reality comprehended under that laid down respecting professed rhetori cians; but I wish to arrest the attention of the reader to it in a distinct and separate form. The popular doctrines which ought particularly to be disregarded are those which belong to literal and metaphoric expression, delicacy, propriety, elegance, and such pre

cious matters.

Among the other quack critics of this quackishly critical age, Dugald Stewart appears as a first-rate professor; and delivers certain very profound and original discoveries respecting language-addressing his readers in the following very wonderful manner: "I

have contrasted some of the opposite perfections of the philosophical and of the rhetorical or poetical style. The former, I have observed, accomplishes its purposes most effectually, when like the language of algebra, it confines our reasoning faculties to their appropriate province, and guards the thoughts against any distraction from the occasional wanderings of fancy. How different from this is the aim of poetry ! Sometimes to subdue reason itself by her syren song; and in all her higher efforts to revert to the first impressions and to the first language of nature;-clothing every idea with a sensible image."

This is all very pretty, and no doubt perfectly correct-the algebraic, or true philosophic style. I have been troubled with doubts about the language of algebra, but there can be no doubt respecting the correctness of the algebraic or true philosophic style of the true theory of Scotch metaphysics; for such expressions as clothing an idea with a sensible image have a blaze of evidence which not only overpowers conviction but renders the understanding dark through excessive brightness.

Poetry, it seems, reverts to the first language of nature, and subdues reason itself by her syren song! But what poetry does the profound Professor mean? The poetry which is said, sung, grinned and simpered after the tragedy of free, bold, original thinking and during the farce of polite literature-the poetry of the Popes and Wordsworths certainly reverts to the first language of nature-to the nursery and ba

byism of intellect-or rather to the drivelling fatuity of second childhood; but Mr. Stewart must not think himself degraded from his true metaphysical rank when I tell him that there is more true philosophy in a few pages of Shakespear's poetry than in all his boasting volumes. The true language of true poetry is the language of nature all tribes of men have begun with the language of poetry, not of choice but necessity imagery (the soul and body of poetry) was a necessary before it was a luxury;-as the chace was the business before it was the amusement of man ;-as venison was common food before it was a costly dainty or choice delicacy;-as furs and feathers were put on for use before they were worn for ornament. Nature made men poets-poetry made them philosophers-philosophy made them metaphysicians—metaphysics rendered them drivelling, dreaming dotards.

When words are first applied figuratively to intellectual matters they can hardly perplex or mislead ; for they are frank and modest: they pretend not, like confident mystics, to have discovered the laws or principles of mind;-they merely point to the relations of things (and without things thoughts are but dreams) more remote from immediate sensation as they have been registered in the memory by habitual perception and experience. Never did philosopher write so figuratively-so intelligibly-so justly about mind as Tucker (at whose supposed bad taste Dugald Stewart hints in the true slavish manner by a half

formed inuendo): if he does not lead his readers to much certain discovery in the intellectual regions, he does not mislead them into foolish conjectures, unmeaning abstractions and absurd notions;-pretending that they are intellectual data, phenomena― primitive laws-or inductive researches into the true theory. Tucker was too great and too honest a philosopher to employ such quackery.

The whole flock of little critics are constantly chattering and gabbling about literal and figurative language without understanding what they say or whereof they affirm; for they cannot perceive, it seems, that language is made up of metaphor'; and that those expressions commonly considered literal are in general merely worn-out or mummyfied metaphors: what is commonly called figurative language is new coin, or what retains all the distinctness and boldness of the original impress; literal language is old coin with the image or signature worn out by passing through many hands. As much of the smooth blank coin that passes currently is depreciated or base, being as devoid of intrinsic value as of extrinsic signature, so much of the language called literal that passes currently is completely insignificant; and the only reason why readers do not reject it is, that they have always been accustomed to take it; though they are as little enriched thereby as if they received base coin for sterling money.

When Mr. Stewart keeps to abstract language made