ion or inversion bestows upon a period a very sensible degree of force and elevation; and yet writers seem to be at a loss how to account for this effect. Cerceau 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 effect 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 effect of inversion; but neither its sole effect, nor even that which is the most remarkable, as is made evi dent above. But waiving censure, which is not an agreeable task, I enter into the matter; and begin with observing, that if conformity between 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 by 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 its agreeableness must arise from admitting some positive beauty that 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. From these premises it clearly follows, that inversion ought not to be indulged, unless in order to reach some beauty superior to those 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. ["If we attend to the history of our own language," says Prof. Barron, "we may discover a strong disposition in some of our prose ers, I believe, unless to indulge a little mirth, would be induced to proceed further than the first sentence; yet a Roman historian could express these ideas in that very arrangement with full energy and propriety: Omnes homines, qui sese student præstare cæteris animalibus, summa ope niti decet.' "Little less surprising and uncouth would be the following exordium on a similar occasion: Whether I shall execute a work of merit, if, from the building of the city, the affairs of the people of Rome I shall relate, neither sufficiently know I, nor if I knew declare durst I.' The reader perhaps would not suspect such language to be a literal translation of the first sentence of the most finished historical production of antiquity, which runs thus in the elegant diction of Livy: Facturusne sum operæ pretium si a primordio urbis, res populi Romani perscripserim; nec satis scio, nec, si scirem, dicere ausim.'"] writers, to accommodate its arrangement to that of the languages of Greece and Rome. But, in executing the design, they disfigured our language in every respect. They Latinized our words and our terminations. They introduce inversions so violent, as to render the sense often obscure, in some cases unintelligible; and they extended their periods to a length which extinguished every spark of patience in the reader. Hobbes, Clarendon, and even Milton in his prose writings, afford numberless instances of this bad taste; and it is remarkable, that it prevailed chiefly during the latter part of the seventeenth century. In the beginning of that century, and in the end of the preceding one, during the reigns of Queen Elizabeth and James I., the purity of the English language, and a correct taste in writing it, were perhaps farther advanced, both in England and Scotland, than in the succeeding period. The works of Shakspeare Hooker, Melvil, and the translation of the Bible, have scarcely beer equalled for good style, by any productions of the seventeenth century; and, in point of grammatical correctness, have not yet been often surpassed. The fanaticism and violence of the civil wars corrupted the taste, and the imitation of Latin composition in theological controversy, seems to have disfigured the language of England." -Lect. III.]* SECTION III. Beauty of Language from a Resemblance between Sound and Signification. 451. A RESEMBLANCE between the sound of certain words and their signification, is a beauty that has escaped no critical writer, and yet is not handled with accuracy by any of them. They have probably been of opinion, that a beauty so obvious to the feeling requires no explanation. This is an error; and to avoid it, I shall give examples of the various resemblances between sound and sig nification, accompanied with an endeavor to explain why such resemblances are beautiful. I begin with examples where the resemblance between the sound and signification is the most entire; and next examples where the resemblance is less and less so. There being frequently a strong resemblance of one sound to another, it will not be surprising to find an articulate sound resembling [In connection with the above, may be read with great advantage, the first of chap. xxii. on the Philosophy of Style.] 450. The order of words and members that may be called natural. Rule for choice between it and an artificial order.-Transposition in the learned languages. Illustration. Whence the beauty of a natural style. Whence, then, the agreeableness of a transposed style. When, only such a style should be used.--Style of the latter part of the seventeenth century. one that is not articulate: thus the sound of a bowstring is imitated by the words that express it: -The string let fly, Twang'd short and sharp, like the shrill swallow's cry. The sound of felling trees in a wood: Odyssey, xxi. 449. Loud sounds the axe, redoubling strokes on strokes, Iliad, xxiii. 144. But when loud surges lash the sounding shore, Dire Scylla there a scene of horror forms, And here Charybdis fills the deep with storms; The rough rock roars; tumultuous boil the waves.-Pope. No person can be at a loss about the cause of this beauty: it is obviously that of imitation. 452. That there is any other natural resemblance of sound to signification, must not be taken for granted. There is no resemblance of sound to motion, nor of sound to sentiment. We are however apt to be deceived by artful pronunciation; 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 must be distinguished from that concord between 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 being intimately connected, the properties of the one are readily communicated to the other; for example, the quality of grandeur, of sweetness, or of melancholy, though belonging to the thought solely, is transferred to the words, which by that means resemble in appearance the thought that is expressed by them (see chap. ii. part i. sec. 5). ["Wordsworth has not only presented the hues of nature to the eye, but has also imitated her harmonies to the ear. Of this I will adduce an instance: Astounded in the mountain gap Till breaking in upon the dying strain, A rending o'er his head begins the fray again.- Wagoner. 451. Resemblances between sound and signification. Its beauty.-Articulate sound resembling ore that is not so. The cause of this beauty. Surely the four lines marked by the italic character would alone be sufficient to decide the question, whether such a grace as imitative harmony really exists. I own that it is difficult to determine how much of the effect upon the mind depends upon the meaning associated with the words; but let it be remembered, that words designative of sound have naturally derived their birth from an at tempt, in the infancy of language, actually to imitate the sounds oi which they are symbolical. After God's own language--the Hebrew -and the affluent Greek, there is probably no tongue so rich in imitative harmonies as our own. Let any person with a true ear, observe the difference between the two words snow and rain. The hushing sound of the sibilant, in the first, followed by the soft liquid and by the round full vowel, is not less indicative of the still descent of snow, than the harsher liquid and vowel, in the second, are of the falling shower. I fear that I shall be considered fanciful, yet I cannot help remarking that the letter R, the sound of which, when lengthened out, is so expressive of the murmur of streams and brooks, is generally to be found in words relating to the element of water, and in such combinations as, either single or reduplicated, suit precisely its different modifications. The words "long" and "slow" are, if pronounced in a natural manner, actually of a longer time than the words short and quick. There is a drag upon the nasal N and G; there is a protracted effect in the vowel followed by a double vowel in the first two words, not to be found in the two last.” -Prof. Wilson.] 453. 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, are concordant, and bear a resemblance to each other. We are still more sensible of this resemblance in a song, when the music is properly adapted to the sentiment: there is no resemblance between thought and sound; but there is the strongest resemblance between the emotion raised by music tender and pathetic, and that raised by the complaint of an unsuccessful lover. Applying this observation to the present subject, it appears that, in some instances, the sound even of a single word makes 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; and hence the beauty of the figurative expression rugged manners. Again, the word little, being pronounced with a very small aperture of the mouth, has a weak and faint sound, which 452. Concord between words and thought, sometimes due to pronunciation.-Sound and sense being connected, the properties of the one are readily attributed to the other. makes an impression resembling that made by a diminutive object. This resemblance of effect is still more remarkable where a number of words are connected 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, we are sensible of a complex emotion, peculiarly pleasant; one proceeding from the sentiment, and one from the melody or sound of the words. 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 (see chap. ii. part iv.). 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.* 454. Proceeding now to particulars, and beginning with those cases where the emotions have the strongest resemblance, I observe, first, That by a number of syllables in succession, an emotion is sometimes raised extremely similar to that raised by successive motion; which may be evident even to those who are defective in taste, from the following fact, that the term movement in all languages is equally applied 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 justly 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: Again: Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum. 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. O'er hills, o'er dales, o'er crags, o'er rocks they go. Iliad, xxiii. 188. Fourthly, the impression made by rough sounds in succession, resembles that made by rough or tumultuous motion: on the other * [See an excellent chapter on the Poetry of Language in Mrs. Ellis's "Poetry of Life."] 453. Resembling causes and their effects.-Non-resembling causes. Example: a building and an heroic action produce concordant emotions. A song, and the sentiment, &c. Example: Resemblance of effects from words connected in a period.-Remark on examples of sense imitated in sound. |
