rim had not trusted more to
his hat than his head, he had made nothing at all of it."
When we point out to our pupils such examples in Sterne, we hope it
will not be understood, that we point them out to induce servile
imitation. We apprehend, that the imitators of Sterne have failed from
not having discovered that the interjections and ---- dashes of this
author, are not in themselves beauties, but that they affect us by
suggesting ideas. To prevent any young writers from the intemperate or
absurd use of interjections, we should show them Mr. Horne Tooke's
acute remarks upon this mode of embellishment. We do not, however,
entirely agree with this author in his abhorrence of interjections.
We do not believe that "where speech can be employed they are totally
useless; and are always insufficient for the purpose of communicating
our thoughts."[68] Even if we class them, as Mr. Tooke himself
does,[69] amongst "involuntary convulsions with oral sound," such as
groaning, shrieking, &c. yet they may suggest ideas, as well as
express animal feelings. Sighing, according to Mr. Tooke, is in the
class of interjections, yet the poet acknowledges the superior
eloquence of sighs:
"Persuasive words, and _more persuasive_ sighs."
"'I wish,' said Uncle Toby, with a deep sigh (after hearing the story
of Le Fevre) 'I wish, Trim, I was asleep.'" The sigh here adds great
force to the wish, and it does not mark that Uncle Toby, from
vehemence of passion, had returned to the brutal state of a savage who
has not learnt the use of speech; but, on the contrary, it suggests to
the reader, that Uncle Toby was a man of civilized humanity; not one
whose compassion was to be excited merely as an animal feeling by the
actual _sight_ of a fellow-creature in pain, but rather by the
description of the sufferer's situation.
In painting, as well as in writing, the language of suggestion affects
the mind, and if any of our pupils should wish to excel in this art,
they must early attend to this principle. The picture of Agamemnon
hiding his face at the sacrifice of his daughter, expresses little to
the eye, but much to the imagination. The usual signs of grief and joy
make but slight impression; to laugh and to weep are such common
expressions of delight or anguish, that they cannot be mistaken, even
by the illiterate; but the imagination must be cultivated to enlarge
the sphere of sympathy, and to render a more refined language
intelligible. I
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