And this, indeed, O world, the heart of thee.
How like a deer, stricken by many princes,
Dost thou here lie!
_Julius Cæsar, act 3. sc. 3._
Playing thus with the sound of words, which is still worse than a pun,
is the meanest of all conceits. But Shakespear, when he descends to a
play of words, is not always in the wrong; for it is done sometimes to
denote a peculiar character; as is the following passage.
_King Philip._ What say’st thou, boy? look in the lady’s face.
_Lewis._ I do, my Lord, and in her eye I find
A wonder, or a wond’rous miracle;
The shadow of myself form’d in her eye;
Which being but the shadow of your son,
Becomes a sun, and makes your son a shadow.
I do protest, I never lov’d myself,
Till now infixed I beheld myself
Drawn in the flatt’ring table of her eye.
_Faulconbridge._ Drawn in the flatt’ring table of her eye!
Hang’d in the frowning wrinkle of her brow!
And quarter’d in her heart! he doth espy
Himself Love’s traitor: this is pity now,
That hang’d, and drawn, and quarter’d, there should be,
In such a love so vile a lout as he.
_King John, act. 2. sc. 5._
A jingle of words is the lowest species of this low wit; which is scarce
sufferable in any case, and least of all in an heroic poem. And yet
Milton in some instances has descended to this puerility:
And brought into the world a world of wo.
---- Begirt th’ almighty throne
Beseeching or besieging----
Which tempted our attempt----
At one slight bound high overleap’d all bound,
---- With a shout
Loud as from numbers without number.
One should think it unnecessary to enter a caveat against an expression
that has no meaning, or no distinct meaning; and yet somewhat of this
kind may be found even among good writers. These make a sixth class.
_Sebastian._ I beg no pity for this mould’ring clay.
For if you give it burial, there it takes
Possession of your earth:
If burnt and scatter’d in the air; the winds
That strow my dust, diffuse my royalty,
And spread me o’er your clime; for where one atom
Of mine shall light, know there Sebastian reigns.
_Dryden, Don Sebastian King of Portugal, act 1._
_Cleopatra._ Now, what news my Charmion?
Will he be kind? and will he not forsake me?
Am I to live or die? nay, do I live?
Or am I dead? for when he gave his answer,
Fate took the word, and then I liv’d or dy’d.
_Dryden, All for Love, act 2._
If she be coy, and scorn my noble fire,
If her chill heart I cannot move;
Why, I’ll enjoy the very love,
And make a mistress of my own desire.
_Cowley, poem inscribed_, The Request.
His whole poem, inscribed, _My Picture_, is a jargon of the same kind:
---- ’Tis he, they cry, by whom
Not men, but war itself is overcome.
_Indian Queen._
Such empty expressions are finely ridiculed in the _Rehearsal_:
Was’t not unjust to ravish hence her breath,
And in life’s stead to leave us nought but death?
_Act 4. sc 1._
CHAP. XVIII.
Beauty of Language.
Of all the fine arts, painting only and sculpture are in their nature
imitative. A field laid out with taste, is not, properly speaking, a
copy or imitation of nature, but nature itself embellished. Architecture
deals in originals, and copies not from nature. Sound and motion may in
some measure be imitated by music; but for the most part music, like
architecture, deals in originals. Language has no archetype in nature,
more than music or architecture; unless where, like music, it is
imitative of sound or motion. In the description of particular sounds,
language sometimes happily furnisheth words, which, beside their
customary power of exciting ideas, resemble by their softness or
harshness the sound described: and there are words, which, by the
celerity or slowness of pronunciation, have some resemblance to the
motion they signify. This imitative power of words goes one step
farther. The loftiness of some words, makes them proper symbols of lofty
ideas: a rough subject is imitated by harsh-sounding words; and words of
many syllables pronounced slow and smooth, are naturally expressive of
grief and melancholy. Words have a separate effect on the mind,
abstracting from their signification and from their imitative power.
They are more or less agreeable to the ear, by the roundness, sweetness,
faintness, or roughness, of their tones.
These are beauties, but not of the first rank: They are relished by
those only, who have more delicacy of sensation than belongs to the bulk
of mankind. Language possesseth a beauty superior greatly in degree, of
which we are eminently conscious when a thought is communicated in a
strong and lively manner. This beauty of language, arising from its
power of expressing thought, is apt to be confounded with the beauty of
the thought expressed; which beauty, by a natural transition of feeling
among things intimately connected, is convey’d to the expression, and
makes it appear more beautiful[74]. But these beauties, if we wish to
think accurately, must be carefully distinguished from each other. They
are indeed so distinct, that we sometimes are conscious of the highest
pleasure language can afford, when the subject expressed is
disagreeable. A thing that is loathsome, or a scene of horror to make
one’s hair stand on end, may be described in the liveliest manner. In
this case, the disagreeableness of the subject, doth not even obscure
the agreeableness of the description. The causes of the original beauty
of language considered as significant, which is a branch of the present
subject, will be explained in their order. I shall only at present
observe, that this beauty is the beauty of means fitted to an end,
_viz._ the communication of thought. And hence it evidently appears,
that of several expressions all conveying the same thought, the most
beautiful, in the sense now mentioned, is that which in the most
perfect manner answers its end.
The several beauties of language above mentioned, being of different
kinds and distinguishable from each other, ought to be handled
separately. I shall begin with those beauties of language which arise
from sound; after which will follow the beauties of language considered
as significant. This order appears natural; for the sound of a word is
attended to, before we consider its signification. In a third section
come those singular beauties of language that are derived from a
resemblance betwixt sound and signification. The beauties of verse I
propose to handle in the last section. For though the foregoing beauties
are found in verse as well as in prose; yet verse has many peculiar
beauties, which for the sake of perspicuity must be brought under one
view. And versification, at any rate, is a subject of so great
importance, as to deserve a place by itself.
SECT. I.
_Beauty of language with respect to sound._
I propose to handle this subject in the following order, which appears
the most natural. The sounds of the different letters come first. Next,
these sounds as united in syllables. Third, syllables united in words.
Fourth, words united in a period. And in the last place, periods united
in a discourse.
With respect to the first article, every vowel is sounded by a single
expiration of air from the wind-pipe through the cavity of the mouth;
and by varying this cavity, the different vowels are sounded. The air in
passing through cavities differing in size, produceth various sounds,
some high or sharp, some low or flat. A small cavity occasions a high
sound, a large cavity a low sound. The five vowels accordingly,
pronounced with the same extension of the wind-pipe, but with different
openings of the mouth, form a regular series of sounds, descending from
high to low, in the following order, _i_, _e_, _a_[75], _o_, _u_. Each
of these sounds is agreeable to the ear. And if it be inquired which of
them is the most agreeable, it is perhaps the safest side to hold, that
there is no universal preference of any one before the rest. Probably
those vowels which are farthest removed from the extremes, will
generally be the most relished. This is all I have to remark upon the
first article. For consonants being letters which of themselves have no
sound, have no other power but to form articulate sounds in conjunction
with vowels; and every such articulate sound being a syllable,
consonants come naturally under the second article. To which therefore
we proceed.
All consonants are pronounced with a less cavity than any of the vowels;
and consequently they contribute to form a sound still more sharp than
the sharpest vowel pronounced single. Hence it follows, that every
articulate sound into which a consonant enters, must necessarily be
double, though pronounced with one expiration of air, or with one breath
as commonly expressed. The reason is, that though two sounds readily
unite; yet where they differ in tone, both of them must be heard if
neither of them be suppressed. For the same reason, every syllable must
be composed of as many sounds as there are letters, supposing every
letter to be distinctly pronounced.
We next inquire, how far articulate sounds into which consonants enter,
are agreeable to the ear. With respect to this point, there is a noted
observation, that all sounds of difficult pronunciation are to the ear
harsh in proportion. Few tongues are so polished as entirely to have
rejected sounds that are pronounced with difficulty; and such sounds
must in some measure be disagreeable. But with respect to agreeable
sounds, it appears, that a double sound is always more agreeable than a
single sound. Every one who has an ear must be sensible, that the
diphthongs _oi_ or _ai_ are more agreeable than any of these vowels
pronounced singly. And the same holds where a consonant enters into the
double sound. The syllable _le_ has a more agreeable sound than the
vowel _e_ or than any vowel. And in support of experience, a
satisfactory argument may be drawn from the wisdom of Providence. Speech
is bestowed upon man, to qualify him for society. The provision he hath
of articulate sounds, is proportioned to the use he hath for them. But
if sounds that are agreeable singly were not also agreeable in
conjunction, the necessity of a painful selection would render language
intricate and difficult to be attained in any perfection. And this
selection, at the same time, would tend to abridge the number of useful
sounds, so as perhaps not to leave sufficient for answering the
different ends of language.
In this view, the harmony of pronunciation differs widely from that of
music properly so called. In the latter are discovered many sounds
singly agreeable, that in conjunction are extremely disagreeable; none
but what are called _concordant sounds_ having a good effect in
conjunction. In the former, all sounds singly agreeable are in
conjunction concordant; and ought to be, in order to fulfil the
purposes of language.
Having discussed syllables, we proceed to words; which make a third
article. Monosyllables belong to the former head. Polysyllables open a
different scene. In a cursory view, one will readily imagine, that the
effect a word hath upon the ear, must depend entirely upon the
agreeableness or disagreeableness of its component syllables. In part it
doth; but not entirely; for we must also take under consideration the
effect that a number of syllables composing a word have in succession.
In the first place, syllables in immediate succession, pronounced, each
of them, with the same or nearly the same aperture of the mouth, produce
a weak and imperfect sound; witness the French words _détêté_
(detested), _dit-il_ (says he), _patetique_ (pathetic). On the other
hand, a syllable of the greatest aperture succeeding one of the
smallest, or the opposite, makes a succession, which, because of its
remarkable disagreeableness, is distinguished by a proper name, _viz.
hiatus_. The most agreeable succession, is, where the cavity is
increased and diminished alternately by moderate intervals. Secondly,
words consisting wholly of syllables pronounced slow or of syllables
pronounced quick, commonly called _long_ and _short syllables_, have
little melody in them. Witness the words _petitioner_, _fruiterer_,
_dizziness_. On the other hand, the intermixture of long and short
syllables is remarkably agreeable; for example, _degree_, _repent_,
_wonderful_, _altitude_, _rapidity_, _independent_, _impetuosity_. The
cause will be explained afterward, in treating of versification.
Distinguishable from the beauties above mentioned, there is a beauty of
some words which arises from their signification. When the emotion
raised by the length or shortness, the roughness or smoothness, of the
sound, resembles in any degree what is raised by the sense, we feel a
very remarkable pleasure. But this subject belongs to the third section.
The foregoing observations afford a standard to every nation, for
estimating, pretty accurately, the comparative merit of the words that
enter into their own language. And though at first view they may be
thought equally useful for estimating the comparative merit of different
languages; yet this holds not in fact, because no person can readily be
found who is sufficiently qualified to apply the standard. What I mean
is, that different nations judge differently of the harshness or
smoothness of articulate sounds: a sound, harsh and disagreeable to an
Italian, may be abundantly smooth to a northern ear. Where are we to
find a judge to determine this controversy? and supposing a judge, upon
what principle is his decision to be founded? The case here is precisely
the same as in behaviour and manners. Plain-dealing and sincerity,
liberty in words and actions, form the character of one people.
Politeness, reserve, and a total disguise of every sentiment that can
give offence, form the character of another people. To each the manners
of the other are disagreeable. An effeminate mind cannot bear the least
of that roughness and severity, which is generally esteemed manly when
exerted upon proper occasions. Neither can an effeminate ear bear the
least harshness in words that are deemed nervous and sounding by those
accustomed to a rougher tone of language. Must we then relinquish all
thoughts of comparing languages in the point of roughness and
smoothness, as a fruitless inquiry? Not altogether so; for we may
proceed a certain length, though without hope of an ultimate decision. A
language with difficulty pronounced even by natives, must yield the
preference to a smoother language. Again, supposing two languages
pronounced with equal facility by natives, the preference, in my
judgement, ought to be in favour of the rougher language; provided it be
also stored with a competent share of more mellow sounds. This will be
evident from attending to the different effects that articulate sound
hath upon the mind. A smooth gliding sound is agreeable, by smoothing
the mind and lulling it to rest. A rough bold sound, on the contrary,
animates the mind. The effort perceived in pronouncing, is communicated
to the hearers: they feel in their own minds a similar effort, which
rouses their attention and disposes them to action. I must add another
consideration. The agreeableness of contrast in the rougher language,
for which the great variety of sounds gives ample opportunity, must,
even in an effeminate ear, prevail over the more uniform sounds of the
smoother language[76]. This appears to me all that can be safely
determined upon the present point. With respect to the other
circumstances that constitute the beauty of words, the standard above
mentioned is infallible when apply’d to foreign languages as well as to
our own. For every man, whatever be his mother-tongue, is equally
capable to judge of the length or shortness of words, of the alternate
opening and closing of the mouth in speaking, and of the relation which
the sound bears to the sense. In these particulars, the judgement is
susceptible of no prejudice from custom, at least of no invincible
prejudice.
That the English tongue, originally harsh, is at present much softened
by dropping in the pronunciation many redundant consonants, is
undoubtedly true. That it is not capable of being farther mellowed,
without suffering in its force and energy, will scarce be thought by any
one who possesses an ear. And yet such in Britain is the propensity for
dispatch, that overlooking the majesty of words composed of many
syllables aptly connected, the prevailing taste is, to shorten words,
even at the expence of making them disagreeable to the ear and harsh in
the pronunciation. But I have no occasion to insist upon this article,
being prevented by an excellent writer, who possessed, if any man ever
did, the true genius of the English tongue[77]. I cannot however forbear
urging one observation borrowed from that author. Several tenses of our
verbs are formed by adding the final syllable _ed_, which, being a weak
sound, has remarkably the worse effect by possessing the most
conspicuous place in the word. Upon that account, the vowel is in common
speech generally suppressed, and the consonant is added to the foregoing
syllable. Hence the following rugged sounds, _drudg’d_, _disturb’d_,
_rebuk’d_, _fledg’d_. It is still less excuseable to follow this
practice in writing; for the hurry of speaking may excuse what is
altogether improper in a composition of any value. The syllable _ed_, it
is true, makes but a poor figure at the end of a word: but we ought to
submit to that defect, rather than multiply the number of harsh words,
which, after all that has been done, bear an over-proportion in our
tongue. The author above mentioned, by showing a good example, did all
in his power to restore that syllable; and he well deserves to be
imitated. Some exceptions however I would make. A word which signifies
labour, or any thing harsh or rugged, ought not to be smooth. Therefore
_forc’d_, with an apostrophe, is better than _forced_, without it.
Another exception is, where the penult syllable ends with a vowel. In
that case the final syllable _ed_ may be apostrophized without making
the word harsh. Examples, _betray’d_, _carry’d_, _destroy’d_,
_employ’d_.
The article next in order, is to consider the music of words as united
in a period. And as the arrangement of words in succession so as to
afford the greatest pleasure to the ear, depends on principles pretty
remote from common view, it will be necessary to premise some general
observations upon the effect that a number of objects have upon the mind
when they are placed in an increasing or decreasing series. The effect
of such a series will be very different, according as resemblance or
contrast prevails. Where the members of a series vary by small
differences, resemblance prevails; which, in ascending, makes us
conceive the second object of no greater size than the first, the third
of no greater size than the second, and so of the rest. This diminisheth
in appearance the size of the whole. Again, when beginning at the
largest object, we proceed gradually to the least, resemblance makes us
imagine the second as large as the first, and the third as large as the
second; which in appearance magnifies every object of the series except
the first. On the other hand, in a series varying by great differences,
where contrast prevails, the effects are directly opposite. A large
object succeeding a small one of the same kind, appears by the
opposition larger than usual: and a small object, for the same reason,
succeeding one that is large, appears less than usual[78]. Hence a
remarkable pleasure in viewing a series ascending by large intervals;
directly opposite to what we feel when the intervals are small.
Beginning at the smallest object of a series where contrast prevails,
this object has the same effect upon the mind as if it stood single
without making a part of the series. But this is not the case of the
second object, which by means of contrast makes a much greater figure
than when viewed singly and apart; and the same effect is perceived in
ascending progressively, till we arrive at the last object. The direct
contrary effect is produced in descending; for in this direction, every
object, except the first, makes a less figure than when viewed
separately and independent of the series. We may then lay down as a
maxim, which will hold in the composition of language as well as of
other subjects, That a strong impulse succeeding a weak, makes a double
impression on the mind; and that a weak impulse succeeding a strong,
makes scarce any impression.
After establishing this maxim, we can be at no loss about its
application to the subject in hand. The following rule is laid down by
Diomedes[79]. “In verbis observandum est, ne a majoribus ad minora
descendat oratio; melius enim dicitur, _Vir est optimus_, quam, _Vir
optimus est_.” This rule is applicable not only to single words, but
equally to entire members of a period, which, according to our author’s
expression, ought not more than single words to proceed from the greater
to the less, but from the less to the greater. In arranging the members
of a period, no writer equals Cicero. The beauty of the following
examples out of many, will not suffer me to slur them over by a
reference.
Quicum quæstor fueram,
Quicum me sors consuetudoque majorum,
Quicum me Deorum hominumque judicium conjunxerat.
Again:
Habet honorem quem petimus,
Habet spem quam præpositam nobis habemus,
Habet existimationem, multo sudore, labore, vigiliisque, collectam.
Again:
Eripite nos ex miseriis,
Eripite nos ex faucibus eorum,
Quorum crudelitas, nostro sanguine non potest expleri.
_De oratore, l. 1. § 52._
This order of words or members gradually increasing in length, may, so
far as concerns the pleasure of sound singly, be denominated _a climax
in sound_.
The last article is the music of periods as united in a discourse; which
shall be dispatched in a very few words. By no other human means is it
possible to present to the mind, such a number of objects and in so
swift a succession, as by speaking or writing. And for that reason,
variety ought more to be studied in these, than in any other sort of
composition. Hence a rule regarding the arrangement of the members of
different periods with relation to each other, That to avoid a tedious
uniformity of sound and cadence, the arrangement, the cadence, and the
length of these members, ought to be diversified as much as possible.
And if the members of different periods be sufficiently diversified, the
periods themselves will be equally so.
SECT. II.
_Beauty of language with respect to signification._
It is well said by a noted writer[80], “That by means of speech we can
divert our sorrows, mingle our mirth, impart our secrets, communicate
our counsels, and make mutual compacts and agreements to supply and
assist each other.” Considering speech as contributing thus to so many
good purposes, it follows, that the chusing words which have an accurate
meaning, and tend to convey clear and distinct ideas, must be one of its
capital beauties. This cause of beauty, is too extensive to be handled
as a branch of any other subject. To ascertain with accuracy even the
proper meaning of words, not to talk of their figurative power, would
require a large volume; an useful work indeed; but not to be attempted
without a large stock of time, study, and reflection. This branch
therefore of the subject I must humbly decline. Nor do I propose to
exhaust all the other beauties of language with respect to
signification. The reader, in a work like the present, cannot fairly
expect more than a slight sketch of those that make the greatest figure.
This is a task which I attempt the more willingly, as it appears to be
connected with some principles in human nature; and the rules I shall
have occasion to lay down, will, if I judge aright, be agreeable
illustrations of these principles. Every subject must be of importance
that tends in any measure to unfold the human heart; for what other
science is more worthy of human beings?