Elements of Criticism, Volume II.

Part 15

Chapter 153,828 wordsPublic domain

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].

It will probably occur, that modulation, so far as connected with long and short syllables combined in a sentence, may be found in prose as well as in verse; considering especially, that in both, particular words are accented or pronounced in a higher tone than ordinary; and therefore that the difference betwixt them cannot consist in modulation merely. The observation is just; and it follows, that the distinction betwixt prose and verse, since it depends not on modulation merely, must arise from the difference of the modulation. This is precisely the case, though the difference cannot with any accuracy be explained in words. Verse is more musical than prose; and of the former, the modulation is more perfect than of the latter. The difference betwixt verse and prose, resembles the difference in music properly so called betwixt the song and the recitative. And the resemblance is not the less complete, that these differences, like the shades of colours, approximate sometimes so nearly as scarce to be discernible. A recitative in its movement approaches sometimes to the liveliness of a song; which on the other hand degenerates sometimes toward a plain recitative. Nothing is more distinguishable from prose, than the bulk of Virgil’s hexameters. Many of those composed by Horace, are very little removed from prose. Sapphic verse has a very sensible modulation. That on the other hand of an Iambic, is extremely faint[98].

This more perfect modulation of articulate sounds, is what distinguisheth verse from prose. Verse is subjected to certain inflexible laws. The number and variety of the component syllables are ascertained, and in some measure the order of succession. Such restraint makes it a matter of difficulty to compose in verse; a difficulty that is not to be surmounted but by a singular genius. Useful lessons of every sort convey’d to us in verse, are agreeable by the union of music with instruction. But are we for that reason to reject knowledge offered in a plainer dress? This would be ridiculous; for knowledge may be acquired without music, and music is entertaining independent of knowledge. Many there are, not less willing than capable to instruct us, who have no genius for verse. Hence the use of prose, which, for the reason now given, is not confined to precise rules. There belongs to it, a certain modulation of an inferior kind, which, being extremely ornamental, ought to be the aim of every writer. But to succeed in it, practice is necessary more than genius. Nor are we rigid on this article. Provided the work answer its chief end of instruction, we are the less solicitous about its dress.

Having ascertained the nature and limits of our subject, I proceed to the laws by which it is regulated. These would be endless, were verse of all different kinds to be taken under consideration. I propose therefore to confine the inquiry, to Latin or Greek hexameter, and to French and English heroic verse; which perhaps will carry me farther than the reader may chuse to follow. The observations I shall have occasion to make, will at any rate be sufficient for a specimen; and these with proper variations may easily be transferred to the composition of other sorts of verse.

Before I enter upon particulars, it must be premised in general, that to verse of every kind, five things are of importance. 1st, The number of syllables that compose a verse. 2d, The different lengths of syllables, _i.e._ the difference of time taken in pronouncing. 3d, The arrangement of these syllables combined in words. 4th, The pauses or stops in pronouncing. 5th, Pronouncing syllables in a high or low tone. The three first mentioned are obviously essential to verse. If any of them be wanting, there cannot be that higher degree of modulation which distinguisheth verse from prose. To give a just notion of the fourth, it must be observed, that pauses are necessary for three different purposes. One is, to separate periods and members of the same period according to the sense: another is, to improve the modulation of verse: and the last is, to afford opportunity for drawing breath in reading. A pause of the first kind is variable, being long or short, frequent or less frequent, as the sense requires. A pause of the second kind, is in no degree arbitrary; its place being determined by the modulation. The last sort again is in a measure arbitrary, depending on the reader’s command of breath. This sort ought always to coincide with the first or second; for one cannot read with grace, unless, for drawing breath, opportunity be taken of a pause in the sense or in the melody; and for that reason this pause may be neglected. With respect then to the pauses of sense and of melody, it may be affirmed without hesitation, that their coincidence in verse is a capital beauty. But as it cannot be expected, in a long work especially, that every line should be so perfect; we shall afterward have occasion to see, that the pause necessary for sense must often, in some degree, be sacrificed to the verse-pause; and the latter sometimes to the former.