Allegory Definition:
An allegory is a symbolism device where the meaning of a greater, often abstract, concept is conveyed with the aid of a more corporeal object or idea being used as an example. Usually a rhetoric device, an allegory suggests a meaning via metaphoric examples.
Example:
Faith is like a stony uphill climb:
a single stumble might send you sprawling but belief and steadfastness will see you to the very top.
There were two little girls, neither handsome nor plain; One's name was Eliza, the other's was Jane: They were both of one height, as I've heard people say, They were both of one age, I believe, to a day. 'Twas fancied by some, who but slightly had seen them, That scarcely a difference was there between them; But no one for long in this notion persisted, So great a distinction there really existed. Eliza knew well that she could not be pleasing, While fretting and fuming, while sulky or teasing; And therefore in company artfully tried Not to break her bad habits, but only to hide. So when she was out, with much labour and pain, She contrived to look almost a pleasant as Jane; But then you might see, that in forcing a smile, Her mouth was uneasy, and ached all the while. And in spite of her care, it would sometimes befall, That some cross event happen'd to ruin it all; And because it might chance that her share was the worst, Her temper broke loose, and her dimples dispersed. But Jane, who had nothing she wanted to hide, And therefore these troublesome arts never tried, Had none of the care and fatigue of concealing, But her face always show'd what her bosom was feeling. At home or abroad there was peace in her smile, A cheerful good nature that needed no guile. And Eliza work'd hard, but could never obtain The affection that freely was given to Jane. ~ Jane and Eliza
Me thinks this heart should rest awhile So stilly round the evening falls The veiled sun sheds no parting smile Nor mirth nor music wakes my Halls I have sat lonely all the day Watching the drizzly mist descend And first conceal the hills in grey And then along the valleys wend And I have sat and watched the trees And the sad flowers how drear they blow Those flowers were formed to feel the breeze Wave their light leaves in summer's glow Yet their lives passed in gloomy woe And hopeless comes its dark decline And I lament because I know That cold departure pictures mine
The First Epistle Awake, my ST. JOHN!(1) leave all meaner things To low ambition, and the pride of Kings. Let us (since Life can little more supply Than just to look about us and to die) Expatiate(2) free o'er all this scene of Man; A mighty maze! but not without a plan; A Wild, where weeds and flow'rs promiscuous shoot, Or Garden, tempting with forbidden fruit. Together let us beat this ample field, Try what the open, what the covert yield; The latent tracts(3), the giddy heights explore Of all who blindly creep, or sightless soar; Eye Nature's walks, shoot Folly as it flies, And catch the Manners living as they rise; Laugh where we must, be candid where we can; But vindicate(4) the ways of God to Man. 1. Say first, of God above, or Man below, What can we reason, but from what we know? Of Man what see we, but his station here, From which to reason, or to which refer? Thro' worlds unnumber'd tho' the God be known, 'Tis ours to trace him only in our own. He, who thro' vast immensity can pierce, See worlds on worlds compose one universe, Observe how system into system runs, What other planets circle other suns, What vary'd being peoples ev'ry star, May tell why Heav'n has made us as we are. But of this frame the bearings, and the ties, The strong connections, nice dependencies, Gradations just, has thy pervading soul Look'd thro'? or can a part contain the whole? Is the great chain, that draws all to agree, And drawn supports, upheld by God, or thee? II. Presumptuous Man! the reason wouldst thou find, Why form'd so weak, so little, and so blind! First, if thou canst, the harder reason guess, Why form'd no weaker, blinder, and no less! Ask of thy mother earth, why oaks are made Taller or stronger than the weeds they shade? Or ask of yonder argent fields(5) above, Why JOVE'S Satellites are less than JOVE?(6) Of Systems possible, if 'tis confest That Wisdom infinite must form the best, Where all must full or not coherent be, And all that rises, rise in due degree; Then, in the scale of reas'ning life, 'tis plain There must be, somewhere, such rank as Man; And all the question (wrangle e'er so long) Is only this, if God has plac'd him wrong? Respecting Man, whatever wrong we call, Nay, must be right, as relative to all. In human works, tho' labour'd on with pain, A thousand movements scarce one purpose gain; In God's, one single can its end produce; Yet serves to second too some other use. So Man, who here seems principal alone, Perhaps acts second to some sphere unknown, Touches some wheel, or verges to some goal; 'Tis but a part we see, and not a whole. When the proud steed shall know why Man restrains His fiery course, or drives him o'er the plains; When the dull Ox, why now he breaks the clod, Is now a victim, and now Egypt's God:(7) Then shall Man's pride and dullness comprehend His actions', passions', being's, use and end; Why doing, suff'ring, check'd, impell'd; and why This hour a slave, the next a deity. Then say not Man's imperfect, Heav'n in fault; Say rather, Man's as perfect as he ought; His knowledge measur'd to his state and place, His time a moment, and a point his space. If to be perfect in a certain sphere, What matter, soon or late, or here or there? The blest today is as completely so, As who began a thousand years ago. III. Heav'n from all creatures hides the book of Fate, All but the page prescrib'd, their present state; From brutes what men, from men what spirits know: Or who could suffer Being here below? The lamb thy riot dooms to bleed to-day, Had he thy Reason, would he skip and play? Pleas'd to the last, he crops the flow'ry food, And licks the hand just rais'd to shed his blood. Oh blindness to the future! kindly giv'n, That each may fill the circle mark'd by Heav'n; Who sees with equal eye, as God of all, A hero perish, or a sparrow fall, Atoms or systems into ruin hurl'd, And now a bubble burst, and now a world. Hope humbly then; with trembling pinions soar; Wait the great teacher Death, and God adore! What future bliss, he gives not thee to know, But gives that Hope to be thy blessing now. Hope springs eternal in the human breast: Man never Is, but always To be blest: The soul, uneasy and confin'd from home, Rests and expatiates in a life to come. Lo! the poor Indian, whose untutor'd mind Sees God in clouds, or hears him in the wind; His soul proud Science never taught to stray Far as the solar walk, or milky way; Yet simple Nature to his hope has giv'n, Behind the cloud-topt hill, an humbler heav'n; Some safer world in depth of woods embrac'd, Some happier island in the watry waste, Where slaves once more their native land behold, No fiends torment, no Christians thirst for gold! To Be, contents his natural desire, He asks no Angel's wing, no Seraph's(8) fire; But thinks, admitted to that equal sky, His faithful dog shall bear him company. IV. Go, wiser thou! and in thy scale of sense Weigh thy Opinion against Providence; Call Imperfection what thou fancy'st such, Say, here he gives too little, there too much; Destroy all creatures for thy sport or gust,(9) Yet cry, If Man's unhappy, God's unjust; If Man alone ingross not Heav'n's high care, Alone made perfect here, immortal there: Snatch from his hand the balance(10) and the rod, Re-judge his justice, be the GOD of GOD! In Pride, in reas'ning Pride, our error lies; All quit their sphere, and rush into the skies. Pride still is aiming at the blest abodes, Men would be Angels, Angels would be Gods. Aspiring to be Gods, if Angels fell, Aspiring to be Angels, Men rebel; And who but wishes to invert the laws Of ORDER, sins against th' Eternal Cause. V. Ask for what end the heav'nly bodies shine, Earth for whose use? Pride answers, "Tis for mine: For me kind Nature wakes her genial pow'r, Suckles each herb, and spreads out ev'ry flow'r; Annual for me, the grape, the rose renew The juice nectareous, and the balmy dew; For me, the mine a thousand treasures brings; For me, health gushes from a thousand springs; Seas roll to waft me, suns to light me rise; My foot-stool earth, my canopy the skies." But errs not Nature from this gracious end, From burning suns when livid deaths descend, When earthquakes swallow, or when tempests sweep Towns to one grave, whole nations to the deep? "No ('tis reply'd) the first Almighty Cause Acts not by partial, but by gen'ral laws; Th' exceptions few; some change since all began, And what created perfect?" -- Why then Man? If the great end be human Happiness, Then Nature deviates; and can Man do less? As much that end a constant course requires Of show'rs and sun-shine, as of Man's desires; As much eternal springs and cloudless skies, As Men for ever temp'rate, calm, and wise. If plagues or earthquakes break not Heav'n's design, Why then a Borgia,(11) or a Catiline?(12) Who knows but he, whose hand the light'ning forms, Who heaves old Ocean, and who wings the storms, Pours fierce Ambition in a Caesar's(13) mind, Or turns young Ammon(14) loose to scourge mankind? From pride, from pride, our very reas'ning springs; Account for moral as for nat'ral things: Why charge we Heav'n in those, in these acquit? In both, to reason right is to submit. Better for Us, perhaps, it might appear, Were there all harmony, all virtue here; That never air or ocean felt the wind; That never passion discompos'd the mind: But ALL subsists by elemental strife; and Passions are the elements of Life. The gen'ral ORDER, since the whole began, Is kept in Nature, and is kept in Man. VI. What would this Man? Now upward will he soar, And little less than Angel,(15) would be more; Now looking downwards, just as griev'd appears To want the strength of bulls, the fur of bears. Made for his use all creatures if he call, Say what their use, had he the pow'rs of all? Nature to these, without profusion kind, The proper organs, proper pow'rs assign'd; Each seeming want compensated of course, Here with degrees of swiftness, there of force; All in exact proportion to the state; Nothing to add, and nothing to abate. Each beast, each insect, happy in its own; Is Heav'n unkind to Man, and Man alone? Shall he alone, whom rational we call, Be pleas'd with nothing, if not bless'd with all? The bliss of Man (could Pride that blessing find) Is not to act or think beyond mankind; No pow'rs of body or of soul to share, But what his nature and his state can bear. Why has not Man a microscopic eye? For this plain reason, Man is not a Fly. Say what the use, were finer optics giv'n, T' inspect a mite,(16) not comprehend the heav'n? Or touch, if tremblingly alive all o'er, To smart and agonize at ev'ry pore? Or quick effluvia(17) darting thro' the brain, Die of a rose in aromatic pain? If nature thunder'd in his op'ning ears, And stunn'd him with the music of the spheres, How would he wish that Heav'n had left him still The whisp'ring Zephyr,(18) and the purling rill?(19) Who finds not Providence all good and wise, Alike in what it gives, and what denies? VII. Far as Creation's ample range extends, The scale of sensual, mental pow'rs ascends: Mark how it mounts, to Man's imperial race, From the green myriads in the people grass: What modes of sight betwixt each wide extreme, The mole's dim curtain, and the lynx's beam: Of smell, the headlong lioness between, And hound sagacious(20) on the tainted(21) green: Of hearing, from the life that fills the flood,(22) To that which warbles thro' the vernal(23) wood: The spider's touch, how exquisitely fine! Feels at each thread, and lives along the line: In the nice bee, what sense so subtly true From pois'nous herbs extracts the healing dew:(24) How Instinct varies in the grov'ling swine, Compar'd, half-reas'ning elephant, with thine: 'Twixt that, and Reason, what a nice barrier; For ever sep'rate, yet for ever near! Remembrance and Reflection how ally'd; What thin partitions Sense from Thought divide: And Middle natures,(25) how they long to join, Yet never pass th' insuperable line! Without this just gradation, could they be Subjected these to those, or all to thee? The pow'rs of all subdu'd by thee alone, Is not thy Reason all these pow'rs in one? VIII. See, thro' this air, this ocean, and this earth, All matter quick, and bursting into birth. Above, how high progressive life may go! Around, how wide! how deep extend below! Vast chain of being, which from God began, Natures ethereal,(26) human, angel, man Beast, bird, fish, insect! what no eye can see, No glass can reach! from Infinite to thee, From thee to Nothing! -- On superior pow'rs Were we to press, inferior might on ours: Or in the full creation leave a void, Where, one step broken, the great scale's destoy'd: From Nature's chain whatever link you strike, Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike. And if each system in gradation roll, Alike essential to th' amazing whole; The least confusion but in one, not all That system only, but the whole must fall. Let Earth unbalanc'd from her orbit fly, Planets and Suns run lawless thro' the sky, Let ruling Angels from their spheres be hurl'd, Being on being wreck'd, and world on world, Heav'n's whole foundations to their centre nod, And Nature tremble to the throne of God: All this dread ORDER break -- for whom? for thee? Vile worm! -- oh, Madness, Pride, Impiety! IX. What if the foot, ordain'd the dust to tread, Or hand to toil, aspir'd to be the head? What if the head, the eye, or ear repin'd(27) To serve mere engines to the ruling Mind? Just as absurd, to mourn the tasks or pains The great directing MIND of ALL ordains. All are but parts of one stupendous whole, Whose body, Nature is, and God the soul; That, chang'd thro' all, and yet in all the same, Great in the earth, as in th' ethereal frame, Warms in the sun, refreshes in the breeze, Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees, Lives thro' all life, extends thro' all extent, Spreads undivided, operates unspent, Breathes in our soul, informs our mortal parts, As full, as perfect, in a hair as heart; As full, as perfect, in vile Man that mourns, As the rapt Seraph that adores and burns; To him no high, no low, no great, no small; He fills, he bounds, connects, and equals all. X. Cease then, nor ORDER Imperfection name: Our proper bliss depends on what we blame. Know thy own point: This kind, this due degree Of blindness, weakness, Heav'n bestows on thee. Submit -- In this, or any other sphere, Secure to be as blest as thou canst bear: Safe in the hand of one disposing Pow'r, Or in the natal, or the mortal hour. All Nature is but Art, unknown to thee; All Chance, Direction, which thou canst not see; All Discord, Harmony, not understood; All partial Evil, universal Good: And, spite of Pride, in erring Reason's spite, One truth is clear, "Whatever IS, is RIGHT." Argument of the Second Epistle: Of the Nature and State of Man, with respect to Himself, as an Individual. The business of Man not to pry into God, but to study himself. Know then thyself, presume not God to scan; The proper study of Mankind is Man. Plac'd on this isthmus of a middle state,(28) A being darkly wise, and rudely great: With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side, With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride, He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest, In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast; In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer, Born but to die, and reas'ning but to err; Alike in ignorance, his reason such, Whether he thinks too little, or too much: Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus'd; Still by himself abus'd, or disabus'd; Created half to rise, and half to fall; Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all; Sole judge of Truth, in endless Error hurl'd: The glory, jest, and riddle of the world! ENDNOTES: 1[His friend, Henry St. John, Lord Bolingbroke] 2[to wander] 3[hidden areas] 4[explain or defend] 5[silvery fields, i.e., the heavens] 6[the planet Jupiter] 7[ancient Egyptians sometimes worshipped oxen] 8[the highest level of angels] 9[pleasure] 10[the balance used to weigh justice] 11[Caesar Borgia (1476-1507) who used any cruelty to achieve his ends] 12[Lucious Sergius Catilina (108-62 B.C.) who was a traitor to Rome] 13[Julius Caesar (100-44 B.C.) who was thought to be overly ambitious Roman] 14[Alexander the Great (356-323 B.C.)] 15[Psalm 8:5--"Thou hast made him [man] a little lower than the angels...."] 16[small insect] 17[vapors which were believed to pass odors to the brain] 18[the West Wind] 19[stream] 20[able to pick up a scent] 21[having the odor of an animal] 22[ocean] 23[green] 24[honey was thought to have medicinal properties] 25[Animals slightly below humans on the chain of being] 26[heavenly] 27[complained] 28[i.e., on the chain of being between angels and animals] ~ Essay on Man - Alexander Pope
"And will you cut a stone for him, To set above his head? And will you cut a stone for him-- A stone for him?" she said. Three days before, a splintered rock Had struck her lover dead-- Had struck him in the quarry dead, Where, careless of a warning call, He loitered, while the shot was fired-- A lively stripling, brave and tall, And sure of all his heart desired . . . A flash, a shock, A rumbling fall . . . And, broken 'neath the broken rock, A lifeless heap, with face of clay, And still as any stone he lay, With eyes that saw the end of all. I went to break the news to her: And I could hear my own heart beat With dread of what my lips might say; But some poor fool had sped before; And, flinging wide her father's door, Had blurted out the news to her, Had struck her lover dead for her, Had struck the girl's heart dead in her, Had struck life, lifeless, at a word, And dropped it at her feet: Then hurried on his witless way, Scarce knowing she had heard. And when I came, she stood alone-- A woman, turned to stone: And, though no word at all she said, I knew that all was known. Because her heart was dead, She did not sigh nor moan. His mother wept: She could not weep. Her lover slept: She could not sleep. Three days, three nights, She did not stir: Three days, three nights, Were one to her, Who never closed her eyes From sunset to sunrise, From dawn to evenfall-- Her tearless, staring eyes, That, seeing naught, saw all. The fourth night when I came from work, I found her at my door. "And will you cut a stone for him?" She said: and spoke no more: But followed me, as I went in, And sank upon a chair; And fixed her grey eyes on my face, With still, unseeing stare. And, as she waited patiently, I could not bear to feel Those still, grey eyes that followed me, Those eyes that plucked the heart from me, Those eyes that sucked the breath from me And curdled the warm blood in me, Those eyes that cut me to the bone, And cut my marrow like cold steel. And so I rose and sought a stone; And cut it smooth and square: And, as I worked, she sat and watched, Beside me, in her chair. Night after night, by candlelight, I cut her lover's name: Night after night, so still and white, And like a ghost she came; And sat beside me, in her chair, And watched with eyes aflame. She eyed each stroke, And hardly stirred: she never spoke A single word: And not a sound or murmur broke The quiet, save the mallet stroke. With still eyes ever on my hands, With eyes that seemed to burn my hands, My wincing, overwearied hands, She watched, with bloodless lips apart, And silent, indrawn breath: And every stroke my chisel cut, Death cut still deeper in her heart: The two of us were chiselling, Together, I and Death. And when at length my job was done, And I had laid the mallet by, As if, at last, her peace were won, She breathed his name, and, with a sigh, Passed slowly through the open door: And never crossed my threshold more. Next night I laboured late, alone, To cut her name upon the stone. by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
Samuel Johnson (18 September 1709 [O.S. 7 September] – 13 December 1784), often referred to as Dr. Johnson, was an English writer who made lasting contributions to English literature as a poet, essayist, moralist, literary critic, biographer, editor and lexicographer. Johnson was a devout Anglican and committed Tory, and is described by the Oxford Dictionary of National Biography as "arguably the most distinguished man of letters in English history".[1] He is the subject of the most famous biography in English literature, namely The Life of Samuel Johnson by James Boswell.[2] Samuel Johnson  Samuel Johnson c. 1772, painted by Sir Joshua Reynolds Born 18 September 1709 (O.S. 7 September) Lichfield, Staffordshire, England Died 13 December 1784 (aged 75) London, England Occupation Essayist, lexicographer, biographer, poet Language English Alma mater Pembroke College, Oxford (no degree) Spouse Elizabeth Porter (née Jervis) Born in Lichfield, Staffordshire, Johnson attended Pembroke College, Oxford, for just over a year, but a lack of funds forced him to leave. After working as a teacher, he moved to London, where he began to write for The Gentleman's Magazine. His early works include the biography Life of Mr Richard Savage, the poems London and The Vanity of Human Wishes, and the play Irene. After nine years of work, Johnson's A Dictionary of the English Language was published in 1755. It had a far-reaching effect on Modern English and has been acclaimed as "one of the greatest single achievements of scholarship".[3] This work brought Johnson popularity and success. Until the completion of the Oxford English Dictionary 150 years later, Johnson's was the pre-eminent British dictionary.[4] His later works included essays, an influential annotated edition of The Plays of William Shakespeare, and the widely read tale The History of Rasselas, Prince of Abissinia. In 1763, he befriended James Boswell, with whom he later travelled to Scotland; Johnson described their travels in A Journey to the Western Islands of Scotland. Towards the end of his life, he produced the massive and influential Lives of the Most Eminent English Poets, a collection of biographies and evaluations of 17th- and 18th-century poets.
