1. The parable is not a mere similitude, in which the mind rests simply upon the points of agreement be- tween two things that are compared, and experiences that pleasure which is always afforded by the discovery of resemblances between things that differ. lu such a case both terms of the similitude must be enunciated, and the pleasure springing from their agreement is all that the speaker or writer looks to as what will lend force to his instructions. See Similitude.
2. Nor is the parable a mere metaphor, in which a word, familiar to us in the region of sensible experi- ence, and denoting some object possessed of particular properties, is transferred to another object belonging to a more elevated region, in order that the former maj' impart to us a fuller and livelier idea of the properties which the latter ought to possess. Were we to speak of the Word of God as a seed we might be said to use a metaphor, but in that case we transfer the properties of the seed to the Word ; the seed itself, having sug- gested the particular property upon which we wish to dwell, vanishes from our thoughts. But when as a part of instruction by parable we use the same expres- sion, the idea of the seed abides with us, and the keep- ing before our minds of its actual history, that we may ascend from it into another sphere, is a necessary part of the mental process through which we pass. See Metaphor.
3. It is more difficult to draw the distinction between parable and allegory. It can hardly be (as in Trench, Oil the Parables, p. 8) that in the latter there is a trans- ference of the qualities and properties of the thing sig- nifj'ing to the thing signified, so that the mind blends the two together, while in the former it keeps them separate. This distinction proceeds upon the idea that an allegorj^ is only an extended metaphor, an idea which cannot be regarded as correct, for the allegory seems to diffi^'r from the metaphor especially in this, that no transference of qualities and properties takes place. In the allegorv the circumstances employed for the j)urpose of comparison remain in their real or supposed existence ; the mind does not, as in metaphor, rest at once in the final object of thought, and only travel backwards to the figure employed forgiving liveliness to the representation, in order that it may fill out its idea of the higher by recalling the attributes of the lower. It starts from the facts, whether real or imag- inar)', wliich form the basis of the similitude it em- ploys ; it leaves them as thev are ; and only hastens to the conclusion that a corresponding order of things is to be found in the other sphere to which it ascends. The allegory thus corres])onds strictly to what is in- \'olved in the derivation of the word. It is the teach-
ing of one thing by another thing, of a second by a first ; a similarity of properties is supposed to exist, a like course of events to be traceable in both ; but the first does not pass off in the second ; the two remain distinct. Viewed in this light, allegory, in its widert sense, may be regarded as a genus, of which the fable, the parable, and what we commonly call allegory are species. It only remains for us, therefore, to note the differences of these.
4. Betweeny"«6fe and parable the difference appears to be determined l)y the object which they severalh' propose. It is the business of the fable to enforce only some prudential maxim, some common-sense principle, some wise saw founded on the experience of the world, and to do this in such a way as shall awaken surprise and pleasure. Hence it deals mainly with plants or the lower animals, and, by clothing them Avith all the powers of reflection which lie within the compass of its aim, it gives not only interest but force to its lesson. If even animals or plants, we reason, can display such prudence or be the victims of such folly, how much more ought we, with our higher powers, to exhibit the one or to avoid the other ? The parable has a nobler end. It would teach either religious or high moral truth. It deals with the loftiest aspect of man's be- ing, with the nobler side of his character, with his re- lation not to mere earthly experience, but to a spiritual, an ideal world. Hence it cannot admit into its story those actors in which the fable mainly delights. The lesson which it would enforce is too solemn for that. It would jar upon our sense of propriety, and would be unnatural. That such actors should appear in the fable produces no feeling of incongruity, because we know that there is a side of our nature which is pos- sessed in common with us by the beasts of the field. But it is not so with that side of it which the parable would instruct, and to introduce therefore the lower animals as our instructors there would be to destroy our sense of what chiefly distinguishes us from them, and would onlj^ produce disgust. The correctness of what has been said maj' still further appear if we con- sider that we would take no offence at a parable in which angels were actors, because, whatever points of difference there may exist between the human and angelic nature, they agree in this, that they are fitted for moving amid the same spiritual realities, and cherishing the same spiritual emotions. These con- siderations will also show us that, while a fable may proceed upon facts palpably fictitious, the parable can only proceed upon those which are or raa.y be true. It deals so much with the severe majesty of truth that it cannot accept the aid of anything plainly false. It is the truthfulness, in short, of the lower side of the rep- resentation that makes it the fitting vehicle for the con- veyance of the higher. Thus also we remark, in con- clusion upon this point, that the parable might take the place of the fable, but not the fable of the parable. As to the distinction again between the parable and the allegory commonly so called, it is probably to be sought in this, that the latter is the offspring simply of a jjoet- ical imagination, while the former is conversant with the actual realities of life. See Fable.