Of Apostrophe. APOSTROPHE is derived from the same source as personification, and differs from it chiefly in this, that as personification ascribes life and sex to inanimate objects, apostrophe addresses animate beings, that are either absent or dead, as if they were present. But though apostrophe is perhaps most frequently employed in this way, it is sometimes used also in addressing inanimate objects. In instances of this figure, in which strong passion is expressed, and which are to be found in the most tender scenes of tragedy, the imagination makes but little exertion. They are warm addresses to friends or relations, that impose no other violence on the imagination, than to admit the presence of some absent living person, or the revival of one deceased, with whom we were acquainted. But the examples in which the imagination makes the most vigorous exertions, are those in which it endues with sensibility and reflection inanimate objects, and addresses them as persons possessed of life and action;, but these do not excite any high degree of emotion. The mind is so composed, as to survey the picture with pleasure, to divide it into parts, and to pass delibe rately from the contemplation of one part, to that of another. On this account, apostrophes addressed to the imagination are frequently extended to considerable length, and are not, by being so, the less agreeable; whilst those addressed to the passions must all be short, to correspond to the distracted condition of the mind. Several of them, indeed, may be thrown together, when the transitions from one to another will gratify the passions and denote their fluctuations, but the mind in such a state cannot naturally attend long to any one. Of that kind of apostrophe, in which inanimate objects are addressed as if they were endued with sensibility and reflection, we have a fine example in the 114th Psalm. "What ailed thee, O thou sea, that thou fleddest? thou Jordan, that thou wast driven back? ye mountains, that ye skipped like rams, and ye little hills like lambs." The poems of Ossian abound with examples of a similar kind. Nothing can surpass in beauty his address to the moon. "Daughter of heaven, fair art thou! the silence of thy face is pleasant; thou comest forth in loveliness; the stars attend thy blue steps in the east. The clouds rejoice in thy presence, O moon! and brighten their dark-brown sides. Who is like thee in heaven, daughter of the night? The stars are ashamed in thy presence and turn aside their sparkling eyes. Whither dost thou retire from thy course when the darkness of thy countenance grows? Hast thou thy hall, like Ossian? Dwellest thou in the shadow of grief? Have thy sisters fallen from heaven? and are they who rejoiced with thee at night, no more? Yes, they have fallen, fair light; and often dost thou retire to mourn. But thou thyself, shalt one night fail, and leave thy blue path in heaven. The stars will then lift their heads; they who in thy presence were astonished will rejoice." It would be difficult to select a finer example, of that species of apostrophe, in which dead or absent persons are addressed as if they were present, than is exhibited in the following passage of the same author. "Thou wert swift, O Morar! as a roe on the desert; terrible as a meteor of fire. Thy wrath was as the storm. Thy sword in battle, as lightning in the field. Thy voice was as a stream after rain; like thunder on distant hills. Many fell by thy arm; they were consumed in the flames of thy wrath. But when thou didst return from war, how peaceful was thy brow! Thy face was like the sun after rain; like the moon in the silence of night; calm as the breast of the lake when the loud wind is laid. "Narrow is thy dwelling now! dark the place of thine abode! With three steps I compass thy grave, O thou who wast so great before! Four stones, with their heads of moss, are the only memorial of thee. A tree with scarce a leaf, long grass, which whistles in the wind, mark to the hunter's eye the grave of the mighty Morar. Morar! thou art low indeed. Thou hast no mother to mourn thee; no maid with her tears of love. Dead is she that brought thee forth. Fallen is the daughter of Morglan." The genius of Thomson seems to have inclined him strongly to this figure of speech, and "The Seasons" furnish some beautiful examples. The two following are peculiarly deserving of attention. The first is addressed to a young lady known by the author, who had died at the age of eighteen. In his lonely musings, in a sequestered spot, he supposes himself surrounded by a band of disembodied spirits, one of whom addresses him, and requests him to join them, in singing of nature and of nature's God. He then proceeds "And art thou, Stanley, of that sacred band? The reach of human pain, above the flight Of sadly pleased remembrance, must thou feel He next apostrophizes the mother, in the following lines: 66 But, O! thou best of parents; wipe thy tears; The tears of grateful joy, who for a while In the tragedy of Douglas, we have an example of that kind of apostrophe which is the effect of passion. When Lady Randolph is accounting to Anna for the loss of her son, at that part of the narrative, in which she mentions the last time she had heard of him, even although she believes him to be dead, she proceeds to address him, as if then in her presence. "That very night in which my son was born, Set out with him to reach her sister's house; |