remarkable in the learned languages, has been the subject of much
speculation. It is agreed on all hands, that such transposition or
inversion bestows upon a period a very sensible degree of force and
elevation; and yet writers seem to be at a loss in what manner to
account for this effect. Cerçeau[91] ascribes so much power to
inversion, as to make it the characteristic of French verse, and the
single circumstance which in that language distinguishes verse from
prose. And yet he pretends not to say, that it hath any other power but
to raise surprise; he must mean curiosity; which is done by suspending
the thought during the period, and bringing it out entire at the close.
This indeed is one power of inversion; but neither its sole power, nor
even that which is the most remarkable, as is made plain above. But
waving censure, which is not an agreeable task, I enter into the matter.
And I begin with observing, that if a conformity betwixt words and
their meaning be agreeable, it must of course be agreeable to find the
same order or arrangement in both. Hence the beauty of a plain or
natural style, where the order of the words corresponds precisely to the
order of the ideas. Nor is this the single beauty of a natural style: it
is also agreeable upon account of its simplicity and perspicuity. This
observation throws light upon the subject. For if a natural style be in
itself agreeable, a transposed style cannot be so. And therefore, it
cannot otherwise be agreeable, but as contributing to some positive
beauty which is excluded in a natural style. To be confirmed in this
opinion, we need but reflect upon some of the foregoing rules, which
make it evident, that language, by means of inversion, is susceptible of
many beauties that are totally excluded in a natural arrangement of
words. From these premisses it clearly follows, that inversion ought not
to be indulged, unless in order to reach some beauty superior to that of
a natural style. It may with great certainty be pronounced, that every
inversion which is not governed by this rule, will appear harsh and
strained, and be disrelished by every one of taste. Hence the beauty of
inversion when happily conducted; the beauty, not of an end, but of
means, as furnishing opportunity for numberless ornaments that find no
place in a natural style. Hence the force, the elevation, the harmony,
the cadence, of some compositions. Hence the manifold beauties of the
Greek and Roman tongues, of which living languages afford but faint
imitations.
SECT. III.
_Beauty of language from a resemblance betwixt sound and signification._
The resemblance betwixt the sound and signification of certain words, is
a beauty, which has escaped no critical writer, and yet is not handled
with accuracy by any of them. They have probably been erroneously of
opinion, that a beauty so obvious in the feeling, requires no
explanation in the understanding. In order to supply this defect, I
shall give examples of the various resemblances betwixt sound and
signification; and at the same time shall endeavour to explain why such
resemblances are beautiful. I begin with examples where the resemblance
betwixt the sound and signification is the most entire; proceeding to
others, where the resemblance is less and less so.
There being frequently a strong resemblance betwixt different sounds, it
will not be surprising to find a natural sound imitated by one that is
articulate. Thus the sound of a bow-string is imitated by the words that
express it.
---- The string let fly,
_Twang’d short and sharp_, like the shrill swallow’s cry.
_Odyssey_ xxi. 449.
The sound of felling trees in a wood:
Loud sounds the ax, redoubling strokes on strokes;
On all sides round the forest hurls her oaks
Headlong. Deep-echoing groan the thickets brown,
Then _rustling_, _crackling_, _crashing_, thunder down.
_Iliad_, xxiii. 144.
But when loud surges lash the sounding shore
The hoarse rough verse should like the torrent roar!
_Pope’s Essay on Criticism, 369._
No person can be at a loss about the cause of this beauty. It is
obviously that of imitation.
That there is any other natural resemblance betwixt sound and
signification, must not be taken for granted. There is evidently no
resemblance betwixt sound and motion, nor betwixt sound and sentiment.
In this matter, we are apt to be deceived by artful reading or
pronouncing. The same passage may be pronounced in many different tones,
elevated or humble, sweet or harsh, brisk or melancholy, so as to accord
with the thought or sentiment. Such concord, depending on artful
pronunciation, must be distinguished from that concord betwixt sound and
sense, which is perceived in some expressions independent of artful
pronunciation. The latter is the poet’s work: the former must be
attributed to the reader. Another thing contributes still more to the
deceit. In language, sound and sense are so intimately connected, as
that the properties of the one are readily communicated to the other. An
emotion of grandeur, of sweetness, of melancholy, or of compassion,
though occasioned by the thought solely, is transferred upon the words,
which by that means resemble in appearance the thought that is expressed
by them[92]. I have great reason to recommend these observations to my
reader, considering how inaccurately the present subject is handled by
critics. Not one of them distinguishes the natural resemblance of sound
and signification, from the artificial resemblance now described.
Witness Vida in particular, who in a very long passage has given very
few examples, but what are of the latter kind[93].
That there may be a resemblance betwixt natural and artificial sounds,
is self-evident; and that in fact there exist such resemblances
successfully employ’d by writers of genius, is clear from the foregoing
examples, and many others that might be given. But we may safely
pronounce, that this natural resemblance can be carried no farther. The
objects of the several senses, differ so widely from each other as to
exclude any resemblance. Sound in particular, whether articulate or
inarticulate, resembles not in any degree taste, smell, or motion; and
as little can it resemble any internal sentiment, feeling, or emotion.
But must we then agree, that nothing but natural sound can be imitated
by that which is articulate? Taking imitation in its proper sense, as
involving a resemblance betwixt two objects, the proposition must be
admitted. And yet in many passages that are not descriptive of natural
sound, every one must be sensible of a peculiar concord betwixt the
sound of the words and their meaning. As there can be no doubt of the
fact, what remains is, to inquire into its cause.
Resembling causes may produce effects that have no resemblance; and
causes that have no resemblance may produce resembling effects. A
magnificent building, for example, resembles not in any degree an heroic
action; and yet the emotions they produce, being concordant, bear a
resemblance to each other. We are still more sensible of this
resemblance, in a song where the music is properly adjusted to the
sentiment. There is no resemblance betwixt thought and sound; but there
is the strongest resemblance betwixt the emotion raised by music tender
and pathetic, and that raised by the complaint of an unsuccessful lover.
To apply these examples to the present subject, I observe, that the
sound even of a single word makes, in some instances, an impression
resembling that which is made by the thing it signifies; witness the
word _running_, composed of two short syllables; and more remarkably the
words _rapidity_, _impetuosity_, _precipitation_. Brutal manners produce
in the spectator, an emotion not unlike what is produced by a harsh and
rough sound. Hence the figurative expression, _rugged_ manners; an
expression peculiarly agreeable by the relation of the sound to the
sense. Again, the word _little_, being pronounced with a very small
aperture of the mouth, has a weak and faint sound, which makes an
impression resembling that made by any diminutive object. This
resemblance of effects, is still more remarkable where a number of words
are connected together in a period. Words pronounced in succession make
often a strong impression; and when this impression happens to accord
with that made by the sense, a peculiar pleasure arises. The thought or
sentiment produces one pleasant emotion: the melody or tone of the words
produces another. But the chief pleasure proceeds from having these two
concordant emotions combined in perfect harmony, and carried on in the
mind to a full close[94]. Except in the single case where sound is
described, all the examples given by critics of sense being imitated in
sound, resolve into a resemblance of effects. Emotions raised by sound
and signification may have a resemblance; but sound itself cannot have a
resemblance to any thing but sound.
Proceeding now to particulars, and beginning with those cases where the
emotions have the strongest resemblance, I observe, first, That in
pronouncing a number of syllables in succession, an emotion is sometimes
raised extremely similar to that raised by successive motion. This may
be made evident even to those who are defective in taste, by the
following fact, that the term _movement_ in all languages is equally
apply’d to both. In this manner, successive motion, such as walking,
running, galloping, can be imitated by a succession of long or short
syllables, or by a due mixture of both. For example, slow motion may be
aptly imitated in a verse where long syllables prevail; especially when
aided by a slow pronunciation:
Illi inter sese magnâ vi brachia tollunt.
_Georg._ iv. 174.
On the other hand, swift motion is imitated by a succession of short
syllables:
Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.
Again:
Radit iter liquidum, celeres neque commovet alas.
Thirdly, a line composed of monosyllables, makes an impression, by the
frequency of its pauses, similar to what is made by laborious
interrupted motion:
With many a weary step, and many a groan,
Up the high hill he heaves a huge round stone.
_Odyssey_, xi. 736.
First march the heavy mules, securely slow;
O’er hills, o’er dales, o’er craggs, o’er rocks, they go.
_Iliad_, xxiii. 138.
Fourthly, the impression made by rough sounds in succession, resembles
that made by rough or tumultuous motion. On the other hand, the
impression of smooth sounds resembles that of gentle motion. The
following is an example of both.
Two craggy rocks projecting to the main,
The roaring wind’s tempestuous rage restrain;
Within, the waves in softer murmurs glide,
And ships secure without their haulsers ride.
_Odyssey_, iii. 118.
Another example of the latter:
Soft is the strain when Zephyr gently blows,
And the smooth stream in smoother numbers flows.
_Essay on Crit. 366._
Fifthly, prolonged motion is expressed in an Alexandrine line. The first
example shall be of slow motion prolonged:
A needless Alexandrine ends the song;
That, like a wounded snake, drags its slow length along.
_Essay on Crit. 356._
The next example is of forcible motion prolonged:
The waves behind impel the waves before,
Wide-rolling, foaming high, and tumbling to the shore.
_Iliad_, xiii. 1004.
The last shall be of rapid motion prolonged:
Not so when swift Camilla scours the plain,
Flies o’er th’ unbending corn, and skims along the main.
_Essay on Crit. 373._
Again, speaking of a rock torn from the brow of a mountain,
Still gath’ring force, it smokes, and, urg’d amain,
Whirls, leaps, and thunders down, impetuous to the plain.
_Iliad_, xiii. 197.
Sixthly, a period consisting mostly of long syllables, that is, of
syllables pronounced slow, produceth an emotion resembling faintly that
which is produced by gravity and solemnity. Hence the beauty of the
following verse.
Olli sedato respondit corde Latinus.
Seventhly, a slow succession of ideas is a circumstance that belongs
equally to settled melancholy, and to a period composed of polysyllables
pronounced slow. Hence, by similarity of emotions, the latter is
imitative of the former:
In those deep solitudes and awful cells,
Where heav’nly-pensive Contemplation dwells,
And ever-musing Melancholy reigns.
_Pope. Eloisa to Abelard._
Eighthly, a long syllable made short, or a short syllable made long,
raises, by the difficulty of pronouncing contrary to custom, a feeling
similar to that of hard labour:
When Ajax strives some rock’s _vast_ weight to throw,
The line too labours, and the words move slow.
_Essay on Crit. 370._
Ninthly, harsh or rough words pronounced with difficulty, excite a
feeling resembling that which proceeds from the labour of thought to a
dull writer:
Just writes to make his barrenness appear,
And strains from hard-bound brains eight lines a-year.
_Pope’s epistle to Dr. Arbuthnot, l. 181._
I shall close with one other example, which of all makes the finest
figure. In the first section mention is made of a climax in sound, and
in the second of a climax in sense. It belongs to the present subject
to observe, that when these coincide in the same passage, the
concordance of sound and sense is delightful. The reader is conscious
not only of pleasure from the two climaxes separately, but of an
additional pleasure from their concordance, and from finding the sense
so justly imitated by the sound. In this respect, no periods are more
perfect than those borrowed from Cicero in the first section.
The concord betwixt sense and sound is not less agreeable in what may be
termed an _anticlimax_, where the progress is from great to little; for
this has the effect to make diminutive objects appear still more
diminutive. Horace affords a striking example:
Parturiunt montes, nascetur ridiculus mus.
The arrangement here is singularly artful. The first place is occupied
by the verb, which is the capital word by its sense as well as sound.
The close is reserved for the word that is the meanest in sense as well
as in sound. And it must not be overlooked, that the resembling sounds
of the two last syllables give a ludicrous air to the whole.
Reviewing the foregoing examples, it appears to me, contrary to
expectation, that in passing from the strongest resemblances to those
that are fainter, the pleasure rises gradually in proportion. Can this
be accounted for? or shall I renounce my taste as capricious? When I
renew the experiment again and again, I feel no wavering, but the
greatest pleasure constantly from the faintest resemblances. And yet how
can this be? for if the pleasure lie in imitation, must not the
strongest resemblance afford the greatest pleasure? From this vexing
dilemma, I am happily relieved, by reflecting on a doctrine established
in the chapter of resemblance and contrast, that the pleasure of
resemblance is the greatest, where it is least expected, and where the
objects compared are in their capital circumstances widely different.
Nor will this appear surprising, when we descend to familiar examples.
It raiseth not wonder in the smallest degree, to find the most perfect
resemblance betwixt two eggs of the same animal. It is more rare to
find such resemblance betwixt two human faces; and upon that account
such an appearance raises some degree of wonder. But this emotion rises
to a still greater height, when we find in a pebble, an aggat, or any
natural production, a perfect resemblance to a tree or other organised
body. We cannot hesitate a moment, in applying these observations to the
present subject. What occasion of wonder can it be to find one sound
resembling another, where both are of the same kind? It is not so common
to find a resemblance betwixt an articulate sound and one not
articulate; and accordingly the imitation here affords some slight
pleasure. But the pleasure swells greatly, when we employ sound to
imitate things it resembles not otherwise than by the effects produced
in the mind.
I have had occasion to observe, that to complete the resemblance betwixt
sound and sense, artful pronunciation contributes not a little.
Pronunciation therefore may be considered as a branch of the present
subject; and with some observations upon it I shall conclude the
section.
In order to give a just idea of pronunciation, it must be distinguished
from singing. The latter is carried on by notes, requiring each of them
a different aperture of the windpipe. The notes properly belonging to
the former, are expressed by different apertures of the mouth, without
varying the aperture of the windpipe. This however doth not hinder
pronunciation to borrow from singing, as a man sometimes is naturally
led to do, in expressing a vehement passion.
In reading, as in singing, there is a key-note. Above this note the
voice is frequently elevated, to make the sound correspond to the
elevation of the subject. But the mind in an elevated state, is disposed
to action. Therefore in order to a rest, it must be brought down to the
key-note. Hence the term _cadence_.
The only general rule that can be given for directing the pronunciation,
is, To sound the words in such a manner as to imitate the things they
represent, or of which they are the symbols. The ideas which make the
greatest figure, ought to be expressed with a peculiar emphasis. In
expressing an elevated subject, the voice ought to be raised above its
ordinary pitch; and words signifying dejection of mind, ought to be
pronounced in a low note. A succession of sounds gradually ascending
from low to high notes, represents an ascending series of objects. An
opposite succession of sounds, is fitted for objects or sentiments that
descend gradually. In Dryden’s ode of _Alexander’s feast_, the line,
_Faln, faln, faln, faln_, ought to be pronounced with a falling voice;
and is pronounced in that manner, by every one of taste, without
instruction. Another circumstance contributes to the resemblance betwixt
sense and sound, which is slow or quick pronunciation. For though the
length or shortness of the syllables with relation to each other, be in
prose ascertained in some measure, and in verse always; yet taking a
whole line or period together, it is arbitrary to pronounce it slow or
fast. Hence it is, that a period expressing what is solemn or
deliberate, ought to be pronounced slow; and ought to be pronounced
quick, when it expresses any thing brisk, lively, or impetuous.
The art of pronouncing with propriety and grace, being calculated to
make the sound an echo to the sense, scarce admits of any other general
rule than that above mentioned. This rule may indeed be branched out
into many particular rules and observations: but these belong not
properly to the present undertaking, because they cannot be explained in
words. We have not words to signify the different degrees of high and
low, loud and soft, fast and slow; and before these differences can be
made the subject of regular instruction, notes must be invented
resembling those employ’d in music. We have reason to believe, that in
Greece every tragedy was accompanied with such notes, in order to
ascertain the pronunciation. But the moderns hitherto have not thought
of this refinement. Cicero indeed[95], without the help of notes,
pretends to give rules for ascertaining the several tones of voice that
are proper in expressing the several passions; and it must be
acknowledged, that in this attempt he has exhausted the whole power of
language. At the same time, every person of judgement must see, that
these rules avail little in point of instruction. The very words he
employs, are scarce intelligible, except to those who beforehand are
acquainted with the subject.
To vary the scene a little, I propose to close with a slight comparison
betwixt singing and pronouncing. In this comparison the five following
circumstances relative to articulate sound, must be kept in view. 1st,
It is harsh or smooth. 2d, A sound or syllable, is long or short. 3d, It
is pronounced high or low. 4th, It is pronounced loud or soft. And,
lastly, a number of words in succession constituting a period or member
of a period, are pronounced slow or quick. Of these five, the first
depending on the component letters, and the second being ascertained by
custom, admit not any variety in pronouncing. The three last are
arbitrary, depending on the will of the person who pronounces; and it
is chiefly in the artful management of these, that just pronunciation
consists. With respect to the first circumstance, music has evidently
the advantage; for all its notes are agreeable to the ear, which is not
always the case of articulate sound. With respect to the second, long
and short syllables variously combined, produce a great variety of feet;
yet far inferior to the variety which is found in the multiplied
combinations of musical notes. With respect to high and low notes,
pronunciation is still more inferior to singing. For it is observed by
Dionysius of Halicarnassus[96], that in pronouncing, _i.e._ without
altering the aperture of the windpipe, the voice is confined within
three notes and a half. Singing has a much greater compass. With respect
to the two last circumstances, pronunciation equals singing.
* * * * *
In this discourse, I have mentioned none of the beauties of language,
but what arise from words taken in their proper sense. Those beauties
that depend on the metaphorical and figurative power of words, are
reserved to be treated in chap. 20.
SECT. IV.
_VERSIFICATION._
The music of verse, though handled by every grammarian, merits more
attention than has been given it. The subject is intimately connected
with human nature; and to explain it thoroughly, several nice and
delicate feelings must be employ’d. Entering upon this subject, it
occurs as a preliminary point, By what mark is verse distinguished from
prose? The discussion of this point is necessary, were it for no other
purpose but to ascertain the nature and limits of our subject. To
produce this distinguishing mark, is a task not perhaps so easy as may
at first be apprehended. Verse of every sort, has, it is true, rules
for its construction. It is composed of feet, the number and variety of
which are ascertained. Prose, though also composed of feet, is more
loose and scarce subjected to any rules. But many are ignorant of these
rules: Are such left without means to make the distinction? And even
with respect to the learned, must they apply the rule before they can
with certainty pronounce whether the composition be prose or verse? This
will hardly be maintained; and therefore, instead of rules, the ear must
be appealed to as the proper judge. But what gain we by being thus
referred to another standard? It still recurs, by what mark does the ear
distinguish verse from prose? The proper and satisfactory answer is,
That these make different impressions, which are readily distinguishable
by every one who hath an ear. This advances us one step in our inquiry.
Taking it then for granted, that verse makes upon the ear a different
impression from that of prose; nothing remains but to explain this
difference, and to assign its cause. To these ends, I must call to my
aid an observation made above in treating of the sound of words, that
they are more agreeable to the ear when composed of long and short
syllables than when all the syllables are of the same sort. A continued
sound in the same tone, makes an impression that comes not up to any
idea we have of music. The same note successively renewed by intervals,
is more agreeable; but still makes not a musical impression. To produce
this impression, variety is necessary as well as number. The successive
sounds or syllables, must be some of them long, some of them short; and
if also high and low, the music is the more perfect. Now if this
impression can be made by single words, much more by a plurality in an
orderly succession. The musical impression made by a period consisting
of long and short syllables arranged in a certain order, is what the
Greeks call _rhythmus_, the Latins, _numerus_, and we _modulation_ or
_measure_. Cicero justly observes, that in one continued sound there is
no modulation: “Numerus in continuatione nullus est.” But in what
follows he is wide of the truth, if by _numerus_ he means modulation or
musical measure. “Distinctio, et æqualium et sæpe variorum intervallorum
percussio, numerum conficit; quem in cadentibus guttis, quod intervallis
distinguuntur, notare possumus.” Falling drops, whether with equal or
unequal intervals, are certainly not musical. We begin then only to be
sensible of a musical expression, when the notes are varied. And this
also was probably the opinion of the author cited, though his expression
be a little unguarded[97].