Lectures on rhetoric and belles lettres: By Hugh Blair, ... In three volumes. ... [pt.1]

LECTURE XIII. STRUCTURE OF SENTENCES.—HARMONY.

HITHERTO we have considered Sen|tences, with respect to their meaning, under the heads of Perspicuity, Unity, and Strength. We are now to consider them, with respect to their sound, their harmony, or agreeableness to the ear; which was the last quality belonging to them that I proposed to treat of.

SOUND is a quality much inferior to sense; yet such as must not be disregarded. For, as long as sounds are the vehicle of convey|ance for our ideas, there will be always a very considerable connection between the idea which is conveyed, and the nature of the sound which conveys it. Pleasing ideas can hardly be transmitted to the mind, by means of harsh and disagreeable sounds. The imagination revolts as soon as it hears them

uttered.

"Nihil,"

says Quinctilian,

"potest intrare in affectum quod in aure, velut quodam vestibulo statim offendit* 1.1."

Mu|sic has naturally a great power over all men to prompt and facilitate certain emotions: insomuch, that there are hardly any dispositi|ons which we wish to raise in others, but cer|tain sounds may be found concordant to those dispositions, and tending to promote them. Now, Language can, in some de|gree, be rendered capable of this power of music; a circumstance which must needs heighten our idea of Language as a wonder|ful invention. Not content with simply in|terpreting our ideas to others, it can give them those ideas enforced by corresponding sounds; and to the pleasure of communicated thought, can add the new and separate pleasure of me|lody.

IN the Harmony of Periods, two things may be considered. First, Agreeable sound, or modulation in general, without any parti|cular expression: Next, The sound so order|ed, as to become expressive of the sense. The first is the more common; the second, the higher beauty.

FIRST, Let us consider agreeable sound, in general, as the property of a well-con|structed Sentence: and, as it was of prose

Sentences we have hitherto treated, we shall confine ourselves to them under this head. This beauty of musical construction in prose, it is plain will depend upon two things; the choice of words, and the arrangement of them.

I BEGIN with the choice of words; on which head, there is not much to be said, unless I were to descend into a tedious and frivolous detail concerning the powers of the several letters, or simple sounds, of which speech is composed. It is evident, that words are most agreeable to the ear which are com|posed of smooth and liquid sounds, where there is a proper intermixture of vowels and consonants; without too many harsh con|sonants rubbing against each other; or too many open vowels in succession, to cause a hiatus, or disagreeable aperture of the mouth. It may always be assumed as a principle, that, whatever sounds are difficult in pronunciati|on, are, in the same proportion, harsh and painful to the ear. Vowels give softness; consonants, strength to the sound of words. The music of Language requires a just pro|portion of both; and will be hurt, will be rendered either grating or effeminate, by an excess of either. Long words are commonly more agreeable to the ear than monosylla|bles. They please it by the composition, or succession of sounds which they present to it; and, accordingly, the most musical Lan|guages abound most in them. Among words

of any length, those are the most musical, which do not run wholly either upon long or short syllables, but are composed of an inter|mixture of them; such as, repent, produce, velocity, celerity, independent, impetuosity.

THE next head, respecting the Harmony which results from a proper arrangement of the words and members of a period, is more complex, and of greater nicety. For, let the words themselves be ever so well chosen, and well sounding, yet, if they be ill disposed, the music of the Sentence is utterly lost. In the harmonious structure and disposition of periods, no writer whatever, antient or mo|dern, equals Cicero. He had studied this with care; and was fond, perhaps to excess, of what he calls, the

"Plena ac numerosa oratio."

We need only open his writings, to find instances that will render the effect of musical Language sensible to every ear. What, for example, can be more full, round, and swelling, than the following sentence of the 4th Oration against Catiline?

"Cogi|tate quantis laboribus fundatum imperium, quantâ virtute stabilitam libertatem, quan|tâ Deorum benignitate auctas exaggeratas|que fortunas, una nox pene delerit."

In English, we may take, for an instance of a musical Sentence, the following from Milton, in his Treatise on Education:

"We shall conduct you to a hill-side, laborious, in|deed, at the first ascent; but else, so smooth, so green, so full of goodly prospects, and

melodious sounds on every side, that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming."

Every thing in this sentence conspires to pro|mote the harmony. The words are happily chosen; full of liquids and soft sounds; la|borious, smooth, green, goodly, melodious, charm|ing: and these words so artfully arranged, that, were we to alter the collocation of any one of them, we should, presently, be sensible of the melody suffering. For, let us observe, how finely the members of the period swell one above another.

"So smooth, so green,"—

"so full of goodly prospects,—and melodi|ous sounds on every side;"

—till the ear, prepared by this gradual rise, is conducted to that full close on which it rests with plea|sure;—

"that the harp of Orpheus was not more charming."

THE structure of periods, then, being sus|ceptible of a melody very sensible to the ear, our next enquiry should be, How this melo|dious structure is formed, what are the prin|ciples of it, and by what laws is it regulated? And, upon this subject, were I to follow the antient rhetoricians, it would be easy to give a great variety of rules. For here they have entered into a minute and particular detail; more particular, indeed, than on any other head that regards Language. They hold, that to prose as well as to verse, there belong certain numbers, less strict, indeed, yet such as can be ascertained by rule. They go so far as to specify the feet, as they are called,

that is, the succession of long and short syl|lables, which should enter into the different members of a Sentence, and to show what the effect of each of these will be. Where|ever they treat of the Structure of Sentences, it is always the music of them that makes the principal object. Cicero and Quinctilian are full of this. The other qualities of Precisi|on, Unity, and Strength, which we consider as of chief importance, they handle slightly; but when they come to the

"junctura et nu|merus,"

the modulation and harmony, there they are copious. Dionysius of Halicarnas|sus, one of the most judicious critics of an|tiquity, has written a treatise on the Compo|sition of words in a Sentence, which is altoge|ther confined to their musical effect. He makes the excellency of a Sentence to consist in four things; first, in the sweetness of sin|gle sounds; secondly, in the composition of sounds, that is, the numbers or feet; thirdly, in change or variety of sound; and fourthly, in sound suited to the sense. On all these points he writes with great accuracy and re|finement; and is very worthy of being con|sulted; though, were one now to write a book on the Structure of Sentences, we should ex|pect to find the subject treated of in a more extensive manner.

IN modern times, this whole subject of the musical structure of discourse, it is plain, has been much less studied; and, indeed, for se|veral reasons, can be much less subjected to

rule. The reasons, it will be necessary to give, both to justify my not following the tract of the antient rhetoricians on this sub|ject, and to show how it has come to pass, that a part of composition, which once made so conspicuous a figure, now draws much less attention.

IN the first place, the antient Languages, I mean the Greek and the Roman, were much more susceptible than ours, of the graces and the powers of melody. The quan|tities of their syllables were more fixed and determined; their words were longer, and more sonorous; their method of varying the terminations of nouns and verbs, both in|troduced a greater variety of liquid sounds, and freed them from that multiplicity of lit|tle auxiliary words which we are obliged to employ; and, what is of the greatest conse|quence, the inversions which their Languages allowed, gave them the power of placing their words in whatever order was most suit|ed to a musical arrangement. All these were great advantages which they enjoyed above us, for Harmony of Period.

IN the next place, the Greeks and Romans, the former especially, were, in truth, much more musical nations than we; their genius was more turned to delight in the melody of speech. Music is known to have been a more extensive art among them than it is with us, more universally studied, and ap|plied

to a greater variety of objects. Se|veral learned men, particularly the Abbé du Bos, in his Reflections on Poetry and Paint|ing, have clearly proved, that the theatrical compositions of the antients, both their tra|gedies and comedies, were set to a kind of music. Whence, the modos fecit, and the Tibiis dextris et sinistris, prefixed to the edi|tions of Terence's Plays. All sort of decla|mation and public speaking, was carried on by them in a much more musical tone than it is among us. It approached to a kind of chanting or recitative. Among the Atheni|ans, there was what was called the Nomic Melody; or a particular measure prescribed to the public officers, in which they were to promulgate the laws to the people; lest, by reading them with improper tones, the laws might be exposed to contempt. Among the Romans, there is a noted story of C. Grac|chus, when he was declaiming in public, having a musician standing at his back, in order to give him the proper tones with a pipe or flute. Even when pronouncing those terrible tribunitial harangues, by which he inflamed the one half of the citizens of Rome against the other, this attention to the music of Speech was, in those times, it seems, thought necessary to success. Quinctilian, though he condemns the excess of this sort of pronunciation, yet allows a

"cantus ob|scurior"

to be a beauty in a public speaker. Hence, that variety of accents, acute, grave, and circumflex, which we find marked upon

the Greek syllables, to express, not the quan|tity of them, but the tone in which they were to be spoken: the application of which is now wholly unknown to us. And though the Romans did not mark those accents in their writing, yet it appears, from Quincti|lian, that they used them in pronunciation:

"Quantum, quale,"

says he,

"comparantes gravi, interrogantes acuto tenore conclu|dunt."

As music then, was an object much more attended to in Speech, among the Greeks and Romans, than it is with us; as, in all kinds of public speaking, they employed a much greater variety of notes, of tones, or inflexions of voice, than we use; this is one clear reason of their paying a greater atten|tion to that construction of Sentences, which might best suit this musical pronunciation.

IT is farther known, that, in consequence of the genius of their Languages, and of their manner of pronouncing them, the mu|sical arrangement of Sentences, did, in fact, produce a greater effect in publick speaking among them, than it could possibly do in any modern oration; another reason why it de|served to be more studied. Cicero, in his treatise, intitled, Orator, tells us,

"Conciones saepe exclamare vidi, cum verba aptè ceci|dissent. Id enim expectant aures* 1.2."

And

he gives a remarkable instance of the effect of a harmonious period upon a whole assem|bly, from a Sentence of one of Carbo's Ora|tions, spoken in his hearing. The Sentence was,

"Patris dictum sapiens temeritas filii comprobavit."

By means of the sound of which, alone, he tells us,

"Tantus clamor concionis excitatus est, ut prorsus admira|bile esset."

He makes us remark the feet of which these words consist, to which he ascribes the power of the melody; and shows how, by altering the collocation, the whole effect would be lost; as thus:

"Patris dic|tum sapiens comprobravit temeritas filii."

Now, though it be true that Carbo's Sen|tence is extremely musical, and would be agreeable, at this day, to any audience, yet I cannot believe that an English Sentence, equally harmonious, would, by its harmony alone, produce any such effect on a British audience, or excite any such wonderful ap|plause and admiration, as Cicero informs us this of Carbo produced. Our northern ears are too coarse and obtuse. The melody of Speech has less power over us; and by our simpler and plainer method of uttering words, Speech is, in truth, accompanied with less melody than it was among the Greeks and Romans* 1.3.

FOR these reasons, I am of opinion, that it is in vain to think of bestowing the same attention upon the harmonious structure of our Sentences, that was bestowed by these antient nations. The doctrine of the Greek and Roman critics, on this head, has misled some to imagine, that it might be equally applied to our Tongue; and that our prose writing might be regulated by Spondees and Trochees, and Iambus's and Poeons, and other metrical feet. But, first, our words cannot be measured, or, at least, can be measured very imperfectly by any feet of this kind. For, the quantity, the length and shortness of our syllables, is not, by any means, so fixed and subjected to rule, as in the Greek and Roman Tongues; but very often left arbitrary, and determined by the emphasis, and the sense. Next, though our prose could admit of such metrical regulation, yet, from our plainer method of pronouncing all sort of discourse, the effect would not be at all so sensible to the ear, nor be relished with so much pleasure, as among the Greeks and Romans: And, lastly, This whole doctrine about the measures and numbers of prose, even as it is delivered by the antient rheto|ricians themselves, is, in truth, in a great measure loose and uncertain. It appears, in|deed, that the melody of discourse was a

matter of infinitely more attention to them, than ever it has been to the moderns. But, though they write a great deal about it, they have never been able to reduce it to any rules which could be of real use in practice. If we consult Cicero's Orator, where this point is discussed with the most minuteness, we will see how much these antient critics dif|fered from one another, about the feet pro|per for the conclusion, and other parts of a Sentence; and how much, after all, was left to the judgment of the ear. Nor, indeed, is it possible to give precise rules concerning this matter, in any Language; as all prose composition must be allowed to run loose in its numbers; and, according as the tenor of a discourse varies, the modulation of Sentences must vary infinitely.

BUT, although I apprehend, that this mu|sical arrangement cannot be reduced into a system, I am far from thinking, that it is a quality to be neglected in composition. On the contrary, I hold its effect to be very con|siderable; and that every one who studies to write with grace, much more, who seeks to pronounce in public, with success, will be obliged to attend to it not a little. But it is his ear, cultivated by attention and practice, that must chiefly direct him. For any rules that can be given, on this subject, are very general. Some rules, however, there are, which may be of use to form the ear to the proper harmony of discourse. I proceed

to mention such as appear to me most mate|rial.

THERE are two things on which the mu|sic of a Sentence chiefly depends. These are, the proper distribution of the several members of it; and, the close or cadence of the whole.

FIRST, I say, the distribution of the se|veral members is to be carefully attended to. It is of importance to observe, that, whatever is easy and agreeable to the organs of Speech. always sounds grateful to the ear. While a period is going on, the termination of each of its members forms a pause, or rest, in pronouncing: and these rests should be so distributed, as to make the course of the breathing easy, and, at the same time, should fall at such distances, as to bear a certain musical proportion to each other. This will be best illustrated by examples. The follow|ing Sentence is from Archbishop Tillotson;

"This discourse concerning the easiness of God's commands does, all along, suppose and acknowledge the difficulties of the first entrance upon a religious course; ex|cept, only in those persons who have had the happiness to be trained up to religion by the easy and insensible degrees of a pi|ous and virtuous education."

Here there is no harmony; nay, there is some degree of harshness and unpleasantness; owing princi|pally to this, that there is, properly, no more

than one pause or rest in the Sentence, fall|ing betwixt the two members into which it is divided; each of which is so long as to oc|casion a considerable stretch of the breath in pronouncing it.

OBSERVE, now, on the other hand, the ease with which the following Sentence, from Sir William Temple, glides along, and the graceful intervals at which the pauses are placed. He is speaking sarcastically of man:

"But God be thanked, his pride is greater than his ignorance, and what he wants in knowledge, he supplies by sufficiency. When he has looked about him, as far as he can, he concludes, there is no more to be seen; when he is at the end of his line, he is at the bottom of the ocean; when he has shot his best, he is sure none ever did, or ever can, shoot better, or beyond it. His own reason he holds to be the certain measure of truth; and his own knowledge, of what is possible in nature* 1.4."

Here every thing is, at once,

easy to the breath, and grateful to the ear; and, it is this sort of flowing measure, this regular and proportional division of the mem|bers of his Sentences, which renders Sir William Temple's style always agreeable. I must observe, at the same time, that a Sen|tence, with too many rests, and these placed at intervals too apparently measured and re|gular, is apt to savour of affectation.

THE next thing to be attended to, is, the close or cadence of the whole Sentence, which, as it is always the part most sensible to the ear, demands the greatest care. So Quinctilian:

"Non igitur durum sit, neque abruptum, quo animi, velut respirant ac reficiuntur. Haec est sedes orationis; hoc auditor expectat; his laus omnis decla|mat* 1.5."

The only important rule that can be given here, is, that when we aim at dig|nity or elevation, the sound should be made to grow to the last; the longest members of the period, and the fullest and most sonorous words, should be reserved to the conclusion. As an example of this, the following sentence of Mr. Addison's may be given:

"It fills

the mind (speaking of sight) with the largest variety of ideas; converses with its objects at the greatest distance; and con|tinues the longest in action, without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoy|ments."

Every reader must be sensible of a beauty here, both in the proper division of the members and pauses, and the manner in which the Sentence is rounded, and conduct|ed to a full and harmonious close.

THE same holds in melody, that I observ|ed to take place with respect to significancy; that a falling off at the end, always hurts greatly. For this reason, particles, pronouns, and little words, are as ungracious to the ear, at the conclusion, as I formerly shewed they were inconsistent with strength of expression. It is more than probable, that the sense and the sound have here a mutual influence on each other. That which hurts the ear, seems to mar the strength of the meaning; and that which really degrades the sense, in con|sequence of this primary effect, appears also to have a bad sound. How disagreeable is the following sentence of an Author, speak|ing of the Trinity!

"It is a mystery which we firmly believe the truth of, and hum|bly adore the depth of."

And how easily could it have been mended by this transposi|tion!

"It is a mystery, the truth of which we firmly believe, and the depth of which we humbly adore."

In general it seems to hold, that a musical close, in our language,

requires either the last syllable, or the penult, that is, the last but one, to be a long syllable. Words which consist mostly of short syllables, as, contrary, particular, retrospect, seldom conclude a sentence harmoniously, unless a run of long syllables, before, has rendered them agreeable to the ear.

IT is necessary, however, to observe, that Sentences, so constructed as to make the sound always swell and grow towards the end, and to rest either on a long or a penult long syllable, give a discourse the tone of decla|mation. The ear soon becomes acquainted with the melody, and is apt to be cloyed with it. If we would keep up the attention of the reader or hearer, if we would preserve vivacity and strength in our composition, we must be very attentive to vary our measures. This regards the distribution of the members, as well as the cadence of the period. Sen|tences constructed in a similar manner, with the pauses falling at equal intervals, should never follow one another. Short Sentences should be intermixed with long and swelling ones, to render discourse sprightly, as well as magnificent. Even discords, properly in|troduced, abrupt sounds, departures from re|gular cadence, have sometimes a good effect. Monotony is the great fault into which wri|ters are apt to fall, who are fond of harmo|nious arrangement: and to have only one tune, or measure, is not much better than having none at all. A very vulgar ear will

enable a writer to catch some one melody, and to form the run of his Sentences accord|ing to it; which soon proves disgusting. But a just and correct ear is requisite for varying and diversifying the melody: and hence we so seldom meet with authors, who are re|markably happy in this respect.

THOUGH attention to the music of Sen|tences must not be neglected, yet it must also be kept within proper bounds: for all appearances of an author's affecting harmony, are disagreeable; especially when the love of it betrays him so far, as to sacrifice, in any instance, perspicuity, precision, or strength of sentiment, to sound. All unmeaning words, introduced merely to round the period, or fill up the melody, complementa numerorum, as Cicero calls them, are great blemishes in writ|ing. They are childish and puerile orna|ments, by which a Sentence always loses more in point of weight, than it can gain by such additions to the beauty of its sound Sense has its own harmony, as well as sound; and, where the sense of a period is expressed with clearness, force, and dignity, it will seldom happen but the words will strike the ear agreeably; at least, a very moderate atten|tion is all that is requisite for making the ca|dence of such a period pleasing: and the ef|fect of greater attention is often no other, than to render composition languid and ener|vated. After all the labour which Quinctilian bestows on regulating the measures of prose,

he comes at last, with his usual good sense, to this conclusion:

"In universum, si sit necesse, duram potiùs atque asperam com|positionem malim esse, quam effeminatam ac enervem, qualis apud multos. Ideòque, vincta quaedam de industria sunt solvenda, ne laborata videantur; neque ullum ido|neum aut aptum verbum praetermittamus, gratiâ lenitatis* 1.6." (Lib. ix. c. 4.)

CICERO, as I before observed, is one of the most remarkable patterns of a harmoni|ous style. His love of it, however, is too visible; and the pomp of his numbers some|times detracts from his strength. That noted close of his, esse videatur, which, in the Ora|tion Pro Lege Manilia, occurs eleven times, exposed him to censure among his cotempora|ries. We must observe, hewever, in defence of this great Orator, that there is a remarka|ble union in his style, of harmony with ease, which is always a great beauty; and if his harmony be sometimes thought studied, that study appears to have cost him little trou|ble.

AMONG our English classics, not many are distinguished for musical arrangement. Mil|ton, in some of his prose works, has very finely turned periods; but the writers of his age indulged a liberty of inversion, which now would be reckoned contrary to purity of style: and though this allowed their Sen|tences to be more stately and sonorous, yet it gave them too much of a Latinized con|struction and order. Of later writers, Shafts|bury is, upon the whole, the most correct in his numbers. As his ear was delicate, he has attended to music in all his Sentences; and he is peculiarly happy in this respect, that he has avoided the monotony into which writ|ers, who study the grace of sound, are very apt to fall: having diversified his periods with great variety. Mr. Addison has also much harmony in his style; more easy and smooth, but less varied, than Lord Shaftsbu|ry. Sir William Temple is, in general, very flowing and agreeable. Archbishop Tillotson is too often careless and languid; and is much outdone by Bishop Atterbury in the music of his periods. Dean Swift despised musical ar|rangement altogether.

HITHER TO I have discoursed of agreeable sound, or modulation, in general. It yet re|mains to treat of a higher beauty of this kind; the sound adapted to the sense. The former was no more than a simple accom|paniment, to please the ear; the latter sup|poses a peculiar expression given to the mu|sic.

We may remark two degrees of it: First, the current of sound, adapted to the tenor of a discourse; next, a particular resemblance effected between some object, and the sounds that are employed in describing it.

FIRST, I say, the current of sound may be adapted to the tenor of a discourse. Sounds have, in many respects, a correspondence with our ideas; partly natural, partly the effect of artificial associations. Hence it hap|pens, that any one modulation of sound con|tinued, imprints on our Style a certain cha|racter and expression. Sentences construct|ed with the Ciceronian fulness and swell, pro|duce the impression of what is important, magnificent, sedate. For this is the natural tone which such a course of sentiment as|sumes. But they suit no violent passion, no eager reasoning, no familiar address. These always require measures brisker, easier, and often more abrupt. And, therefore, to swell, or to let down the periods, as the subject de|mands, is a very important rule in oratory. No one tenor whatever, supposing it to pro|duce no bad effect from satiety, will answer to all different compositions; nor even to all the parts of the same composition. It were as absurd to write a panegyric, and an invec|tive, in a Style of the same cadence, as to set the words of a tender love-song to the air of a warlike march.

OBSERVE how finely the following sen|tence of Cicero is adapted, to represent the tranquillity and ease of a satisfied state:

"Etsi homini nihil est magis optandum quam prospera, aequabilis, perpetuaque fortuna, secundo vitae sine ulla offensione cursu; tamen, si mihi tranquilla et placata omnia fuissent, incredibili quâdam et pene divinâ, quâ nunc vestro beneficio fruor, laetitiae vo|luptate caruissem* 1.7."

Nothing was ever more perfect in its kind: it paints, if we may so speak, to the ear. But, who would not have laughed, if Cicero had employed such periods, or such a cadence as this, in inveighing against Mark Antony, or Cati|line? What is requisite, therefore, is, that we previously fix, in our mind, a just idea of the general tone of sound which suits our subject; that is, which the sentiments we are to express, most naturally assume, and in which they most commonly vent them|selves; whether round and smooth, or state|ly and solemn, or brisk and quick, or inter|rupted and abrupt. This general idea must direct the run of our composition; to speak in the style of music, must give us the key note, must form the ground of the melody; varied and diversified in parts, according as either our sentiments are diversified, or as is requisite for producing a suitable variety to gratify the car.

IT may be proper to remark, that our translators of the Bible have often been hap|py in suiting their numbers to the subject. Grave, solemn, and majestic subjects un|doubtedly require such an arrangement of words as runs much on long syllables; and, particularly, they require the close to rest upon such. The very first verses of the Bi|ble, are remarkable for this melody:

"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth; and the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep; and the Spirit of God moved on the face of the waters."

Several other passages, particularly some of the Psalms, afford striking examples of this sort of grave, melodious construction. Any composition that rises considerably above the ordinary tone of prose, such as monumental inscripti|ons, and panegyrical characters, naturally runs into numbers of this kind.

BUT, in the next place, besides the gene|ral correspondence of the current of sound with the current of thought, there may be a more particular expression attempted, of certain objects, by means of resembling sounds. This can be, sometimes, accom|plished in prose composition; but there only in a more faint degree; nor is it so much ex|pected there. In poetry, chiefly, it is look|ed for; where attention to sound is more demanded, and where the inversions and li|berties of poetical style give us a greater

command of sound; assisted, too, by the ver|sification, and that cantus obscurior, to which we are naturally led in reading poetry. This requires a little more illustration.

THE sounds of words may be employed for representing, chiefly, three classes of ob|jects; first, other sounds; secondly, motion; and, thirdly, the emotions and passions of the mind.

FIRST, I say, by a proper choice of words, we may produce a resemblance of other sounds which we mean to describe, such as, the noise of waters, the roaring of winds, or the murmuring of streams. This is the simplest instance of this sort of beauty. For the medium through which we imitate, here, is a natural one; sounds represented by other sounds; and between ideas of the same sense, it is easy to form a connection. No very great art is required in a poet, when he is describing sweet and soft sounds, to make use of such words as have most liquids and vowels, and glide the softest; or, when he is describing harsh sounds, to throw together a number of harsh syllables which are of difficult pronunciation. Here the common structure of Language assists him; for, it will be found, that, in most Languages, the names of many particular sounds are so form|ed, as to carry some affinity to the sound which they signify; as with us, the whistling of winds, the buz and hum of insects, the

hiss of serpents, the crash of falling timber; and many other instances, where the word has been plainly framed upon the sound it represents. I shall produce a remarkable example of this beauty from Milton, taken from two passages in Paradise Lost, describ|ing the sound made, in the one, by the open|ing of the gates of Hell; in the other, by the opening of those of Heaven. The contrast between the two, displays, to great advan|tage, the poet's art. The first is the open|ing of Hell's gates:

—On a sudden, open fly, With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound, Th' infernal doors; and on their hinges grate Harsh thunder.—B. I.

Observe, now, the smoothness of the other:

—Heaven opened wide Her ever-during gates, harmonious ••ound, On golden hinges turning.—B. II.

The following beautiful passage from Tasso's Gierusalemme, has been often admired, on account of the imitation effected by sound of the thing represented:

Chiama gli habitator de l'ombre eterne Il rauco suon de la Tartarea tromba: Treman le spaciose atre caverne, Et l'aer cieco a quel rumor rimbomba; Ni stridendo cosi de la superne. Regioni dele cielo, il folgor piomba;

Ne si scossa giammai la terra, Quand i vapori in sen gravida serra. CANT. IV. Stanz. 4.

THE second class of objects, which the sound of words is often employed to imitate, is, Motion; as it is swift or slow, violent or gentle, equable or interrupted, easy or ac|companied with effort. Though there be no natural affinity between sound, of any kind, and motion, yet, in the imagination, there is a strong one; as appears from the connection between music and dancing. And, there|fore, here it is in the poet's power to give us a lively idea of the kind of motion he would describe, by means of sounds which correspond, in our imagination, with that motion. Long syllables naturally give the impression of slow motion; as in this line of Virgil:

Olli inter sese magna vi brachia tollunt.

A succession of short syllables presents quick motion to the mind; as,

Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.

BOTH Homer and Virgil are great masters of this beauty; and their works abound with instances of it; most of them, indeed, so often quoted, and so well known, that it is needless to produce them. I shall give one instance, in English, which seems happy. It

is the description of a sudden calm on the seas, in a Poem, entitled, The Fleece.

—With easy course The vessels glide; unless their speed be stopp'd By dead calms, that often lie on these smooth seas When ev'ry zephyr sleeps; then the shrouds drop; The downy feather, on the cordage hung, Moves not; the flat sea shines like yellow gold Fus'd in the fire, or like the marble floor Of some old temple wide.—

THE third set of objects, which I menti|oned the sound of words as capable of re|presenting, consists of the passions and emo|tions of the mind. Sound may, at first view, appear foreign to these; but, that here, also, there is some sort of connection, is sufficient|ly proved by the power which music has to awaken, or to assist certain passions, and, according as its strain is varied, to introduce one train of ideas, rather than another. This, indeed, logically speaking, cannot be called a resemblance between the sense and the sound, seeing long or short syllables have no natural resemblance to any thought or pas|sion. But if the arrangement of syllables, by their sound alone, recal one set of ideas more readily than another, and dispose the mind for entering into that affection which the poet means to raise, such arrangement may, justly enough, be said to resemble the sense, or be similar and correspondent to it. I admit, that, in many instances, which are supposed to display this beauty of accommo|dation

of sound to the sense, there is much room for imagination to work; and, accord|ing as a reader is struck by a passage, he will often fancy a resemblance between the sound and the sense, which others cannot discover. He modulates the numbers to his own dispo|sition of mind; and, in effect, makes the music which he imagines himself to hear. However, that there are real instances of this kind, and that poetry is capable of some such expression, cannot be doubted. Dryden's Ode on St. Cecilia's Day, affords a very beau|tiful exemplification of it, in the English Lan|guage. Without much study or reflection, a poet describing pleasure, joy, and agreeable objects, from the feeling of his subject, na|turally runs into smooth, liquid, and flow|ing numbers.

—Namque ipsa decoram Caesariem nato genetrix, lumenque juventae Purpureum, et laetos oculis afflarat honores. AEN. I.

Or,

Devenêre locos laetos & amaena vireta, Fortunatorum nemorum, sedesque beatas; Largior hic campos aether, & lumine vestit Purpureo, solemque suum, sua sidera norant. AEN. VI.

Brisk and lively sensations, exact quicker and more animated numbers.

—Juvenum manus emicat ardens Littus in Hesperium.AEN. VII.

Melancholy and gloomy subjects, naturally express themselves in slow measures, and long words:

In those deep solitudes and awful cells, Where heavenly pensive contemplation dwells.

Et caligantem nigrâ formidine lucum.

I HAVE now given sufficient openings into this subject: a moderate acquaintance with the good poets, either antient or modern, will suggest many instances of the same kind. And with this, I finish the discussion of the Structure of Sentences; having fully consi|dered them under all the heads I mentioned; of Perspicuity, Unity, Strength, and Musi|cal Arrangement.

Notes

• * 1.1

  "Nothing can enter into the affections which stumbles at the threshold, by offending the ear."
• * 1.2

  "I have often been witness to bursts of exclamation in the public assemblies, when Sentences closed musically; for that is a pleasure which the ear expects."
• * 1.3

  "In versu quidem, theatra tota exclamant si fuit una syllaba aut brevior aut longior. Nec vero multitudo pedes novit, nec ullos numeros tenet; nec illud quod offendit, aut cur, aut in quo offendat, intelligit; et tamen omnium longitudinum et brevitatum in sonis, sicut acutarum, gravi|umque vocum, judicium ipsa natura in auribus nostris col|locavit." CICERO, Orator. c 51.
• * 1.4

  Or this instance.—He is addressing himself to Lady Essex, upon the death of her child:

  "I was once in hope, that what was so violent could not be long: But, when I ob|served your grief to grow stronger with age, and to increase, like a stream, the farther it ran; when I saw it draw out to such unhappy consequences, and to threaten, no less than your child, your health, and your life, I could no longer forbear this endeavour, nor end it, without begging of you, for God's sake, and for your own, for your children, and your friends, your country, and your family, that you would no longer abandon yourself to a disconsolate passion; but that you would, at length, awaken your piety, give way to your prudence, or, at least, rouze the invinci|ble spirit of the Percys, that never yet shrunk at any dis|aster."
• * 1.5

  "Let there be nothing rash or abrupt in the conclusion of the sentence, on which the mind pauses and rests. This is the most material part in the structure of Discourse. Here every hearer expects to be gratified; here his applause breaks forth."
• * 1.6

  "Upon the whole, I would rather chuse, that composi|tion should appear rough and harsh, if that be necessary, than that it should be enervated and effeminate, such as we find the style of too many. Some sentences, therefore, which we have studiously formed into melody, should be thrown loose, that they may not seem too much laboured; nor ought we ever to omit any proper or expressive word, for the sake of smoothing a period."
• * 1.7

  Orat. ad Quirites, post Reditum.