This figurative mode of expression, by which we give life and sex to things inanimate, and embody abstract qualities, forms a singular and striking beauty in our language, rendering it in this respect superior to the languages of Greece and Rome, neither of which admitted this animated phraseology[14].
When we say,
“The sun his orient beams had shed,”
the expression possesses infinitely more vivacity than
“The sun its orient beams had shed.”
In assigning sex to things inanimate, it has been supposed that we have been guided by certain characters or qualities in the inanimate objects, as bearing some resemblance to the distinctive or characteristic qualities of male and female animals. Thus, it has been said, that those inanimate substances, or abstract qualities, which are characterized by the attributes of giving or imparting, or which convey an idea of great strength, firmness, or energy, are masculine; and that those, on the contrary, which are distinguished by the properties of receiving, containing, and producing, or which convey an idea of weakness or timidity, having more of a passive than active nature, are feminine. Hence it has been observed, that the sun, death, time, the names also of great rivers and mountains, are considered as masculine; and that the moon, a ship, the sea, virtue, in all its species, are considered as feminine. Of these and such speculations it may be truly said, as the learned author of them remarks himself, that they are at best but ingenious conjectures. They certainly will not bear to be rigorously examined; for there are not any two languages which harmonize in this respect, assigning the same sex to the same inanimate objects, nor any one language in which this theory is supported by fact[15]. Hence it is evident, that neither reason nor nature has any share in the regulation of this matter; and that, in assigning sex to inanimate things, the determination is purely fanciful. In Greek, death is masculine: in Latin, feminine. In those languages the sun is masculine; in the Gothic, German, Anglo-Saxon, and some other northern languages, it is feminine; in Russian it is neuter. In several of the languages of Asia, the sun is feminine. According to our northern mythology, the sun was the wife of Tuisco. The Romans considered the winds as masculine; the Hebrews, says Caramuel, represented them as nymphs. In the Hebrew language, however, they were of the masculine gender, as were also the sun and death. In short, we know not any two languages which accord in this respect, or any one language in which sex is assigned to things inanimate according to any consistent or determinate rule.
In speaking of animals whose sex is not known to us, or not regarded, we assign to them gender either masculine or feminine, according, as it would appear, to the characteristic properties of the animal himself. In speaking, for example, of the horse, a creature distinguished by usefulness and a certain generosity of nature, unless we be acquainted with the sex and wish to discriminate, we always speak of this quadruped as of the male sex; thus,
“While winter’s shivering snow affects the horse
With frost, and makes him an uneasy course.”—Creech.
In speaking of a hare, an animal noted for timidity, we assign to it, if we give it sex, the feminine gender; thus, “the hare is so timorous a creature, that she continually listens after every noise, and will run a long way on the least suspicion of danger: so that she always eats in terror.”