To drivel out whole years of Idiot breath, AMONG the striking defects, with which the American nation in a literary view is fairly to be charged, it appears to me, that no one is more apparent, than the taste for a profuse and almost promiscuous use of figure as it is called, or tropes, metaphors and similes in their most familiar compositions. We have a kind of sickly appetite for such intellectual sweets, and cannot relish, but rather nauseate the raciness of more substantial food. Some of our writers oppress their subjects with a weight of Roman and Grecian names, which are distorted into some remote application to the object of his enquiry. The most familiar ideas must be illustrated by a metaphor; as if every notion of the writer were so dark and obscure, as to require the torch of fancy to shew its formation. All authors of any celebrity are obliged to humour this perversion of taste, or else be contented to sink into insignificance without exciting censure or extorting applause. If a sermon, is printed, the first thing, which general readers seek in it, is the best simile; if it possesses any thing of the kind, it is bespattered with such praise and panegyrick as can only be deserved by the most laborious industry, exalted talents and accumulated learning. Ask Miss A or B how she is pleased with such a production, and if she admires it, she will be sure in the next sentence to repeat some similitude which it contained; and which in truth, will be found the whole charm by which her admiration was raised. The ingenuity with which a subject may be handled, and the art of elegant writing, do not consist in the labour of collecting mythological allusions, or heaping up a pile of compari sons, without propriety or distinctness. The man of information requires something more, and the man merely of common sense, requires something less. If writers would condescend to reason and think, rather than distemper their fancies in seeking out eternally new similes and comparisons, though they would not satisfy the desires of the Miss at the boarding school, or even the literary woman of this country, yet the thinking part of the community would feel greatly obliged to them, for the pleasure they would afford. Let it not be understood that an objection is made to all illustrations of a subject because a too profuse and lavish use happens to be made of metaphor and simile. I have noticed the tendency of American writers and readers to this bad taste, because it appears that such sentiments as encourage its prevalence are rapidly increasing. an an I have lately seen a pamphlet in which this kind of taste is made evident. It proposes to be 'A BRIEF SKETCH OF SPAIN,' introduced in account of the publick festival given in honour of Spanish valour and patriotism, by the citizens of Boston. This Sketch is headed by 6 a page of e of mottos, entitled "Hints of Men and Nations,' in which the language of Shakespeare and Brooke, is unnecessarily altered and applied to Ferdinand VII. Cevallos, Emp. Nap. Spirit of Spain, Napoleon, Great-Britain, Philosopher of Monticello, and New-England. All this parade is merely to usher in twelve duodecimo pages about Spain and the valour of the Spanish patriots, in which we have similes and amplifications without end or propriety. The style is so exceedingly ambiguous that I cannot forbear to quote some instances of the soil of imagination running to weeds. For a taste, 1 The late eruption of publick virtue in this southern extremity of Atlantick Europe, which has covered with a warm suffusion of transport the cheeks of all brother patriots in every section of the globe, ris not to be regarded as one of the wonders of this age of prodigies. That is 'admirable! an eruption covering the cheeks of all brother pat riots with a suffusion of transport' is admirable ! Oh matter and im pertinency mixed !' The author is fond of the classicks; in this taste he denominates Napoleon, a HERO compounded of marginal notes translated from Plu tarch; a POLITICIAN, military as Rome, and corrupt as her Prætorian cohort. But he had not suspected that the very arts which thesem> ployed to sever the rock at the basis of the mountain, would rend the ice on its summit, and produce an avalanche to crush him. We can i readily comprehend that Napoleon has been mistaken in the charactér of the Spaniards; but cannot discover any similitude to that mistake, in his rending the ice at the summit of the mountain, by endeavouring to sever a rock at its base. The metaphor too implies a physical im possibility. We then are entertained with another comparison, between VOL. 1. B B Napoleon and a Choctaw; Napoleon in a cathedral, and the Choctaw in a philosophy chamber. Perhaps I should betray my ignorance in asking what it all means; but I have no doubt I shall betray it grossly when I say that it has no meaning. But let the whole parallel be given. "It is no wonder, therefore, that he has lounged into the cathedrals. of Spain, as a Choctaw on his travels would stroll among the apparatus of a philosophy chamber. Haply, both for a while, might be mightily tickled with so novel an amusement, in which their sole object was to gaze, to admire, and to pilfer. The royal robber would no doubt lay his hands on the superb and massy ornaments of the church, with as little ceremony and concern, as the 'untutored Indian' would have in feeling and handling the magical workmanship of an electrick machine. This too, sans doubte, might all be done from curiosity-sheer curiosi ty; and the results of both experiments have been equally curious. 'Noli me tangere was a motto which the Indian never knew, and the Corsican had forgotten; and thus they both agreed to touch and take; but no such matter! For when the itching palm of the arch emperour sacrilegiously attempted to purloin the treasures of the sacristy, without asking first the wings of its sculptored saints to transport it, he fatally found, like his unsophisticated brother of the woods, that his too meddlesome finger had struck the conducting WIRE OF THE BATTERY, and what he had touched from amusement, had knocked him down in good earnest !' I shall only make another extract in rather a better, though yet distempered taste, for the satisfaction of your readers. 'In the wide waste of her glory, we discern with pride, and, we commemorate with gratitude, the noble effort she made in the cause of American Liberty. As the generous and voluntary deed of a gallant and disinterested nation, it is worthy the brightest days of her chivalry. It was heroism without reproach, and without reward; it was a spark of Castillian fire, which relumined the quivering lamp in the clay-cold cemetery of her honours. A great people can never be debased by a weak government. The love of country is a religion, which burns in all bosoms, and submits to all sacrifices. That man must be brave, who fears to outlive his country. His home and his grave are sacred by the law of nature, and the prescriptions of ages. Farms and kingdoms may be sold, but not their inhabitants, or knight service. MEN are not heir-looms to estates; nor sumpter-mules to itinerant kings.' I might greatly multiply instances of this nature, but I think I have already given a sufficient specimen to satisfy any reasonable or thinking mind of the propriety of my objections, to the hankering of American writers after ornament, and tinsel finery in their composition. Plain good sense has no chance with such persons; they despise it. And after all it is by no means so difficult to fill a composition with metaphorical illustrations as is generally supposed by the world; and the mer it of such a work after it is ended, is much inferiour to a single striking observation, expressed with purity, simplicity, energy and precision. are IT seems to be the fashion to despond because the French army has made some progress in Spain, and to consider the glorious struggle for liberty and honour, in which the whole Spanish nation is opposed to the greatest oppressor whom the world has ever seen, as utterly ineffectual and hopeless. But whilst we remember the wonderful resources of the French emperour,his numerous well appointed armies,his talents, and his intrigues, we cannot forget the cause in which the patriots a engaged, the enmity and the unsubdued spirit of hostility, which they express towards their enemies. Bonaparte, in traversing Spain without effectual impediments, will not necessarily conquer the determinations still to resist him. If the Spaniards are actuated by an ardour as inextinguishable, and a courage as invincible as ours were during our revolutionary war, though they may be beaten as we were in almost every pitched battle, we may expect that, as we did, they will rise up like hydras in every corner, and gather fresh strength from fresh opposition.' There is is nothing contained in any news we have yet received from Spain, which should incline us to despair of the ultimate success of the patriots. Who has been so foolish as to imagine the Spaniards capa, ple of resisting the discipline and numbers of the French armies in general engagements? Who could have supposed that Napoléon would have been suddenly defeated, when the Supreme Junta expressly ordered their generals by all means to avoid coming into actions, the issue of which might determine the fate of the country. Under such instructions, what have the Spaniards lost that might not have been foreseen? They have avoided all general actions. They have maintained defensive positions on high grounds. They have wisely separated their forces. They have retreated when they expected defeat. They have fought bravely, but not rashly. The consequences have been, that even by the French bulletins, they have not suffered severe losses of men; they have received irritating wounds, but not fatal blows. And after all Napoleon's successes, there are as many armies ready to fight him, and certainly as capable of opposing him, as when he first attacked General Blake, at Sonorsa, in the beginning of the campaign. A The Spaniards must fight hard to drive the French out of their country; but long contests make good d soldiers; and it is admitted by one of the first generals of the age, that the Spanish troops are as courage. ous and hardy as those of any other nation in Europe, and much more docile and easily led on. They will begin soon to gain partial success. es over the French; this will revive their spirits, correct their discipline, and above all confirm their steadiness under a galling fire,, New generals, if the old ones are killed, will be found to rise up; they are always produced during great struggles. And perhaps in a few months we may hear of another battle of Pultowa, at Salamanca, or under the walls of Saragossa. ΤΟ LETTERS FROM BOSTON. No. II. BOSTON, September, 10, 1808. I FIND the Bostonians so impressed with their political importance in the union of the states, that they think, write and talk upon nothing else but politicks, and the embargo is the first and last subject, which has engaged the attention of every company of gentlemen into which I have yet been introduced. I do not wonder at the circumstance; the increasing prosperity and happiness of the country has been suddenly impeded, and as the whole community depend upon commerce for all their pleasures and enjoyments, it is natural that the embargo should almost exclusively engage their attention. The ladies, however, act a different part. As they are uncommonly fond of the company of strangers, they employ all their arts, of dress, conversation, and personal charms, to engage their devoted attention. The women here, when I first landed, as I had for so long a time been familiar only with the sight of swarthy beauties, appeared like so many divinities. But I have recovered the use of my reason, which was bewildered by the glare of their charms, and I now can discover their defects, and discriminate pretty accurately between one beauty and another. I brought letters to your old friend Mr. ******, who has treated me with uncommon civility. Indeed the hospitality of the Bostonians to strangers is pro. verbial. As soon as I made myself known to Mr. ******, he offered to shew me the town, as he called it; I accepted his invitation, and he conducted me to all the remarkable elevations, of which there are a number, pointed out the buildings most remarkable for beauty, historical importance or general utility, and introduced me to such institutions as he thought it would be most agreeable for a stranger to be acquainted with. As I shall have occasion hereafter to describe with some minuteness, my impressions in relation to these topicks, it will not be necessary to enter into the detail at present. I only mention it, as an instance of your friend's attention, who employed himself the whole day in contributing to my amusement and information. In the evening, at his house, I had the pleasure for the first time, of viewing an assembly |