In _The Covenanters took up arms_ there is no metaphor; in _The
Covenanters flew to arms_ there is one only--_flew to_ for _quickly
took up_; in _She flew to arms in defence of her darling_ there are
two, the arms being now metaphorical as well as the flying; moreover,
the two metaphors are separate ones; but, being dead, and also not
inconsistent with each other, they lie together quietly enough. But
dead metaphors will not lie quietly together if there was repugnance
between them in life; e'en in their ashes live their wonted fires, and
they get up and fight.
_It is impossible to crush the Government's aim to restore the means
of living and working freely_. 'Crush' for baffle, 'aim' for purpose,
are both dead metaphors so long as they are kept apart, but the
juxtaposition forces on us the thought that you cannot crush an aim.
_National military training is the bedrock on which alone we can hope
to carry through the great struggles which the future may have in
store for us_. 'Bedrock' and 'carry through' are both moribund or
dormant, but not stone-dead.
_The vogue of the motor-car seems destined to help forward the
provision of good road-communication, a feature which is sadly in
arrear_. Good road-communication may be a feature, and it may be in
arrear, and yet a feature cannot be in arrear; things that are equal
to the same thing may be equal to each other in geometry, but language
is not geometry.
They are cyphers living under the _shadow_ of a great man.
He stood, his feet _glued_ to the spot, his eyes _riveted_ on the
heavens.
The Geddes report is to be _emasculated_ a little in the Cabinet, and
then _thrown_ at the heads of the Electorate.
Viscount Grey's suggestion may, in spite of everything, prove the
_nucleus_ of _solution_.
The superior stamina of the Oxonian told in no _half-hearted measure_.
[Even careful writers are sometimes unaware of the comical effect of
some chance juxtaposition of words and ideas, whereby a dormant
metaphor is set on its legs. Thus Leslie Stephen in his life of Swift
wrote: _Sir William Temple, though he seems to have been vigorous and
in spite of gout a brisk walker, was approaching his grave_. And again
when he was triumphantly recording the progress of agnosticism he has:
_Even the high-churchmen have thrown the Flood overboard_. [ED.]]