defeated by his passion for words and this stained his fine writing. So too he was imitated by the word-worshippers and was responsible for subsequent developments. So to cure the illness, the renowned 'Abd al-Qāhir filled a third of his Dalā 'il al-I'jāz and Asrār al-Balāgha [^3] with his remedies. Yes, the passion for words is an illness, but it is not known as such.

[^3]:See, page 78 fn 42 above.

Note

Just as the passion for words is an illness, so too through its excesses the passion for literary forms, styles, similes, imaginings, and rhyme becomes an illness, each type of which sacrifices the meaning for itself. For some witty point even, or for the sake of the rhyme, many literary figures immediately offend against propriety. Writing should be embellished, but on condition it is natural to its meaning; and the form expressing the meaning should be made imposing, but on condition permission is sought from the meaning; and the style should be made brilliant, but on condition the relationship with its purpose is taken into consideration and it consents to it; and the should be allowed to roam and to sparkle, but on condition it is not detrimental to reality and is not burdensome, and is a simile for reality and seeks assistance from reality.

The Second Matter

The Second Matter

Speech springs to life and burgeons when, by embodying meanings and breathing spirit into inanimate things, it is infused with conversation and discussion. It is like this: built on a fanciful sophistry proceeding from the convention called juxtaposition (deveran) according to which two things, one existent and the other non-existent, are supposed to be the cause and source of each other on their being associated, thus making one another speak. With the rhetorical magic produced by the power of imagination this animates the inanimate like a magician. It also embodies meanings, and gives them life and vital warmth.