FOOTNOTES:[1]Nec vero illa parva vis naturæ est rationisque, quod unum hoc animal sentit quid sit ordo, quid sit quod deceat in factis dictisque, qui modus. Itaque eorum ipsorum, quæ aspectu sentiuntur, nullum aliud animal, pulchritudinem, venustatem, convenientiam partium, sentit. Quam similitudinem natura ratioque ab oculis ad animum transferens, multo etiam magis pulchritudinem, constantiam, ordinem, in consiliis factisque conservandum putat, cavetque ne quid indecorè effeminatève faciat; tum in omnibus et opinionibus et factis ne quid libidinosè aut faciat aut cogitet. Quibus ex rebus conflatur et efficitur id, quod quærimus, honestum.Cicero de officiis, l.1.[2]From many things that pass current in the world without being generally condemned, one at first view would imagine, that the sense of congruity or propriety hath scarce any foundation in nature; and that it is rather an artificial refinement of those who affect to distinguish themselves by a certain delicacy of taste and behaviour. The fulsome panegyrics bestowed upon the great and opulent, in epistles dedicatory and other such compositions, lead naturally to that thought. Did there prevail in the world, it will be said, or did nature suggest, a taste of what is suitable, decent, or proper, would any good writer deal in such compositions, or any man of sense receive them without disgust? Can it be supposed, that Lewis XIV. of France was endued by nature with any sense of propriety, when, in a dramatic performance purposely composed for his entertainment, he suffered himself, publicly and in his presence, to be styled the greatest king ever the earth produced? These it is true are strong facts; but luckily they do not prove the sense of propriety to be artificial. They only prove, that the sense of propriety is at times overpowered by pride and vanity; which is no singular case, for this sometimes is the fate even of the sense of justice.[3]Contrary to this rule, the introduction to the third volume of theCharacteristics, is a continued chain of metaphors. These in such profusion are too florid for the subject; and have beside the bad effect of removing our attention from the principal subject, to fix it upon splendid trifles.[4]See act 1. sc. 2.[5]See chap. 7.[6]See chap. 3.[7]See the Introduction.[8]Part I. essay 2. chap. 4.[9]Poet. cap. 5.[10]L. 2. De oratore.[11]Ideoque anceps ejus rei ratio est, quod a derisu non procul abest risus.Lib.6.cap.3. § 1.[12]See chap. 7.[13]See chap. 10.[14]Scarron.[15]Tassoni.[16]Nº 102.[17]Tale of a Tub, sect. 7.[18]A true and faithful narrative of what passed in London during the general consternation of all ranks and degrees of mankind.[19]Æn. l. 1.At Venus obscuro, &c.[20]See chap. 10. compared with chap. 7.[21]B. 2. ch. 11. § 2.[22]See chap. 1.[23]De oratore, l. 2. cap. 63.[24]If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work:But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.First part, HenryIV.act 1. sc. 3.[25]Violent love without affection is finely exemplified in the following story. When Constantinople was taken by the Turks, Irene, a young Greek of an illustrious family, fell into the hands of Mahomet II. who was at that time in the prime of youth and glory. Irene’s charms conquered the savage heart of Mahomet. He abandoned himself to his new mistress; and shut himself up with her, denying access even to his ministers. His passion seemed to increase with time. In the most important expeditions, frequently would he abandon the army, and fly to his Irene. War was at a stand, for victory was no longer the monarch’s favourite passion. The soldiers, accustomed to booty, began to murmur, and the infection spread even among the commanders. The Basha Mustapha, consulting the fidelity he owed his master, was the first who durst acquaint him of the discourses held publicly to the prejudice of his glory.The Sultan, after a gloomy silence, formed his resolution. He ordered Mustapha to assemble the troops next morning; and then retired with precipitation to Irene’s apartment. Never before did that princess appear so charming: never before did the prince bestow so many tender caresses. To give a new lustre to her beauty, he exhorted her women next morning to bestow all their art and care on her dress. He took her by the hand, led her into the middle of the army, and pulling off her vail, demanded at the Bashas with a fierce look, whether they had ever beheld so accomplished a beauty? After an awful pause, Mahomet with one hand laying hold of the young Greek by her beautiful locks, and with the other pulling out his simitar, severed the head from the body at one stroke. Then turning to his grandees, with eyes wild and furious, “This sword,” says he, “when it is my will, knows to cut the bands of love.”[26]See chap. 2. part 3.[27]Lady Easy, upon her husband’s reformation, expresses to her friend the following sentiment. “Be satisfy’d; Sir Charles has made me happy, even to a pain of joy.”[28]See chap. 2. part 3.[29]See chap. 2. part 3.[30]See chap. 2. part 4.[31]Chap. 2. part 1. sect. 2.[32]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 6.[33]Act 2.[34]Omnis enim motus animi, suum quemdam a natura habet vultum et sonum et gestum.Cicero, l. 3. De oratore.[35]See this explained, Essays on morality and natural religion, part 2. essay 5.[36]See chap. 2. part 6.[37]See chap. 17.[38]Though a soliloquy in the perturbation of passion is undoubtedly natural, and indeed not unfrequent in real life; yet Congreve, who himself has penned several good soliloquies, yields, with more candor than knowledge, that they are unnatural; and he only pretends to justify them from necessity. This he does in his dedication of theDouble Dealer, in the following words. “When a man in soliloquy reasons with himself, andpro’sandcon’s, and weighs all his designs; we ought not to imagine, that this man either talks to us, or to himself; he is only thinking, and thinking (frequently) such matter as were inexcuseable folly in him to speak. But because we are concealed spectators of the plot in agitation, and the poet finds it necessary to let us know the whole mystery of his contrivance, he is willing to inform us of this person’s thoughts; and to that end is forced to make use of the expedient of speech, no other better way being yet invented for the communication of thought.”[39]Act 3. sc. 6.[40]The actions here chiefly in view, are what a passion suggests in order to its gratification. Beside these, actions are occasionally exerted to give some vent to a passion, without proposing an ultimate gratification. Such occasional action is characteristical of the passion in a high degree; and for that reason, when happily invented, has a wonderful good effect in poetry:Hamlet.Oh most pernicious woman!Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain!My tables—— meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writing.So, uncle, there you are.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 8.[41]See chap. 2. part 7.[42]See passions explained as agreeable or disagreeable, chap. 2. part 2.[43]Locke.[44]Rough and blunt manners, are allied to anger by an internal feeling, as well as by external expressions resembling in a faint degree those of anger. Therefore such manners are easily heightened into anger; and savages for that reason are prone to anger. Thus rough and blunt manners are unhappy in two respects. They are first readily converted into anger: and next, the change being imperceptible, because of the similitude of external signs, the person against whom the anger is directed is not put upon his guard. It is for these reasons a great object in society, to correct such manners, and to bring on a habit of sweetness and calmness. This temper has two opposite good effects. First it is not easily provoked to wrath. Next the interval being great betwixt it and real anger, a person of this temper who receives an affront, has many changes to go through before his anger be inflamed. These changes have each of them their external sign, and the offending party is put upon his guard, to retire, or to endeavour a reconciliation.[45]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 5.[46]See chap. 2. part 7.[47]See Appendix.[48]In theÆneid, the hero is made to describe himself in the following words:Sum pius Æneas, fama super æthera notus.Virgil could never have been guilty of an impropriety so gross, had he assumed the personage of his hero, instead of uttering the sentiments of a spectator. Nor would Xenophon have made the following speech for Cyrus the younger, to his Grecian auxiliaries, whom he was leading against his brother Artaxerxes. “I have chosen you, O Greeks! my auxiliaries, not to enlarge my army, for I haveBarbarianswithout number; but because you surpass all theBarbariansin valour and military discipline.” This sentiment is Xenophon’s; for surely Cyrus did not reckon his countrymen Barbarians.[49]See chap. 2. part 1. sect 6.[50]This criticism reaches the French dramatic writers in general, with very few exceptions. Their tragedies are mostly, if not totally, descriptive. Corneille led the way; and later writers following his track, have accustomed the French ear to a style, formal, pompous, declamatory, which suits not with any passion. Hence it becomes an easy task to burlesk a French tragedy: it is not more difficult than to burlesk a stiff solemn fop. The facility of the operation has in Paris introduced a singular amusement, which is, to burlesk the more successful tragedies in a sort of farce, calleda parody. La Motte, who himself appears to have been sorely galled by some of these burlesk compositions, acknowledges, that no more is necessary to give them a run, than barely to vary thedramatis personæ, and in place of kings and heroes, queens and princesses, to substitute tinkers and tailors, milkmaids and seamstresses. The declamatory style, so different from the genuine expression of passion, passes in some measure unobserved, when great personages are the speakers. But in the mouths of the vulgar, the impropriety, with regard to the speaker as well as to the passion represented, is so remarkable as to become ridiculous. A tragedy, where every passion is made to speak in its natural tone, is not liable to be thus burlesked. The same passion is by all men expressed nearly in the same manner: and therefore the genuine expressions of passion cannot be ridiculous in the mouth of any man, provided only he be of such a character as to be susceptible of the passion.It is a well-known fact, that to an English ear the French actors appear to pronounce with too great rapidity; a complaint much insisted on by Cibber in particular, who had frequently heard the famous Baron upon the French stage. This may in some measure be attributed to our want of facility in the French language; as foreigners generally imagine, that every language is pronounced too quick by natives. But that it is not the sole cause, will be probable from a fact directly opposite, that the French are not a little disgusted with the languidness, as they term it, of the English pronunciation. I conjecture this difference of taste may be derived from what is observed above. The pronunciation of the genuine language of passion is necessarily directed by the nature of the passion, and by the slowness or celerity of its progress. In particular, plaintive passions, which are the most frequent in tragedy, having a slow motion, dictate a slow pronunciation. In declamation again, which is not the genuine language of any passion, the speaker warms gradually; and as he warms, he naturally accelerates his pronunciation. But as the French have formed their tone of pronunciation upon Corneille’s declamatory tragedies, and the English upon the more natural language of Shakespear, it is not surprising that custom should produce such difference of taste in the two nations.[51]See chap. 2. part 3.[52]See chap. 2. part 7.[53]Titus Livius, l. 29. §17.[54]Canto 20. stan. 124. 125. & 126.[55]Page 316.[56]Act 1. sc. 1.[57]Act 2. sc. 1.[58]Beginning of act 2.[59]Act 3. sc. 3. at the close.[60]A certain author says humourously, “Les mots mêmes d’amour et d’amant sont bannis de l’intime société des deux sexes, et relegués avec ceux dechaineet deflamedans les Romans qu’on ne lit plus.” And where nature is once banished, a fair field is open to every fantastic imitation, even the most extravagant.[61]Act 4. sc. 5.[62]Act 4. sc. 7.[63]This observation is finely illustrated by a story which Herodotus records,book 3. Cambyses when he conquered Egypt, took Psammenitus the King prisoner: and to try his constancy, ordered his daughter to be dressed in the habit of a slave, and to be employ’d in bringing water from the river. His son also was led to execution with a halter about his neck. The Egyptians vented their sorrow in tears and lamentations. Psammenitus only, with a down-cast eye, remained silent. Afterward meeting one of his companions, a man advanced in years, who being plundered of all, was begging alms, he wept bitterly, calling him by his name. Cambyses was struck with wonder, and sent a messenger with the following question, “Psammenitus, thy master Cambyses is desirous to know, why, after thou hadst seen thy daughter so ignominiously treated, and thy son led to execution, without exclamation or weeping, thou shouldst be so highly concerned for a poor man no way related to thee?” Psammenitus returned the following answer: “Son of Cyrus, the calamities of my family are too great to leave me the power of weeping: but the misfortunes of a companion, reduced in his old age to want of bread, is a fit subject for lamentation.”[64]See chap. 2. part 3.[65]Chap. 16.[66]See this explained more particularly in chap. 8.[67]Of this take the following specimen:They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and, indeed, it takesFrom our atchievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,Since Nature cannot chuse his origin),By the o’ergrowth of some complexionOft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’er-leavensThe form of plausive manners; that these menCarrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,(Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s scar),Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 7.[68]The critics seem not perfectly to comprehend the genius of Shakespear. His plays are defective in the mechanical part, which is less the work of genius than of experience; and is not otherwise brought to perfection than by diligently observing the errors of former compositions. Shakespear excels all the ancients and moderns, in knowledge of human nature, and in unfolding even the most obscure and refined emotions. This is a rare faculty, and of the greatest importance in a dramatic author; and it is this faculty which makes him surpass all other writers in the comic as well as tragic vein.[69]Soliloquies accounted for chap. 15.[70]Act 2. sc. 2.[71]Act 1. sc. 1.[72]Act 1. sc. 2.[73]Act 1. sc. 2.[74]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.[75]Here the Germanais understood.[76]That the Italian tongue is rather too smooth, seems to appear from considering, that in versification vowels are frequently suppressed in order to produce a rougher and bolder tone.[77]See Swift’s proposal for correcting the English tongue, in a letter to the Earl of Oxford.[78]See the reason, chap. 8.[79]De structura perfectæ orationis, l. 2.[80]Scot’s Christian life.[81]Elements of criticism, vol. 1. p. 43.[82]Chap. 2. part 4.[83]Ibid.[84]See Gerard’s French grammar, discourse 12.[85]An argument against abolishing Christianity, Swift.[86]Letter concerning enthusiasm. Shaftesbury.[87]See chap. 8.[88]Treatise of the sublime, cap. 16.[89]Taking advantage of a declension to separate an adjective from its substantive, as is commonly practised in Latin, though it detract not from perspicuity, is certainly less neat than the English method of juxtaposition. Contiguity is more expressive of an intimate relation, than resemblance merely of the final syllables. Latin indeed has evidently the advantage when the adjective and substantive happen to be connected by contiguity as well as by the resemblance of the final syllables.[90]See chap. 1.[91]Reflections sur la poesie Françoise.[92]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.[93]Poet. L. 3. l. 365.-454.[94]See chap. 2. part 4.[95]De oratore, l. 3. cap. 58.[96]De structura orationis, sect. 2.[97]From this passage, however, we discover the etymology of the Latin term for musical expression. Every one being sensible that there is no music in a continued sound; the first inquiries were probably carried no farther, than that to produce a musical expression, a number of sounds is necessary; and musical expression obtained the name ofnumerus, before it was clearly ascertained, that variety is necessary as well as number.[98]Music, properly so called, is analysed into melody and harmony. A succession of sounds so as to be agreeable to the ear, constitutes melody. Harmony is the pleasure that arises from co-existing sounds. Verse therefore can only reach melody, and not harmony.[99]After some attention given to this subject, and weighing deliberately every circumstance, I have been forc’d to rest upon the foregoing conclusion, That the Dactyle and Spondee are no other than artificial measures invented for trying the accuracy of composition. Repeated experiments convince me, that though the sense should be altogether neglected, an Hexameter line read by Dactyles and Spondees, will not be melodious. And the composition of an Hexameter line demonstrates this to be true, without necessity of an experiment. It will appear afterward, that in an Hexameter line, there must always be a capital pause at the end of the fifth long syllable, reckoning, as above, two short for one long. And when we measure this line by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause now mentioned divides always a Dactyle or a Spondee: it never falls in at the end of either of these feet. Hence it is evident, that if a line be pronounced, as it is scanned, by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause must be utterly neglected; which consequently must destroy the melody, because a pause is essential to the melody of an Hexameter verse. If, on the other hand, the melody be preserved by making this pause, the pronouncing by Dactyles and Spondees must be abandoned.What has led grammarians into the use of Dactyles and Spondees, seems not beyond the reach of conjecture. To produce melody, the latter part of a Hexameter line consisting of a Dactyle and a Spondee, must be read according to these feet: in this part of the line, the Dactyle and Spondee are distinctly expressed in the pronunciation. This discovery, joined with another, that the foregoing part of the verse could be measured by the same feet, has led grammarians to adopt these artificial measures, and perhaps rashly to conclude, that the pronunciation is directed by these feet as well as the composition. The Dactyle and Spondee at the close, serve indeed the double purpose of regulating the pronunciation as well as the composition: but in the foregoing part of the line, they regulate the composition only, not the pronunciation.If we must have feet in verse to regulate the pronunciation, and consequently the melody, these feet must be determined by the pauses. The whole syllables interjected betwixt two pauses ought to be deemed one musical foot; because, to preserve the melody, they must all be pronounced together, without any stop. And therefore, whatever number there are of pauses in a Hexameter line, the parts into which it is divided by these pauses, make just so many musical feet.Connection obliges me here to anticipate, by observing, that the same doctrine is applicable to English heroic verse. Considering its composition merely, it is of two kinds. One is composed of five Iambi; and one of a Trochæus followed by four Iambi. But these feet afford no rule for pronouncing. The musical feet are obviously those parts of the line that are interjected betwixt two pauses. To bring out the melody, these feet must be expressed in the pronunciation; or, which comes to the same, the pronunciation must be directed by the pauses, without regard to the Iambus or Trochæus.[100]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.[101]Poet. cap. 25.[102]See chap. 9.[103]Vossius,de poematum cantu, p. 26. says, “Nihil æque gravitati orationis officit, quam in sono ludere syllabarum.”[104]Spectator, Nº 285.[105]Preface to hisŒdipus, and in his discourse upon tragedy, prefixed to the tragedy ofBrutus.
FOOTNOTES:
[1]Nec vero illa parva vis naturæ est rationisque, quod unum hoc animal sentit quid sit ordo, quid sit quod deceat in factis dictisque, qui modus. Itaque eorum ipsorum, quæ aspectu sentiuntur, nullum aliud animal, pulchritudinem, venustatem, convenientiam partium, sentit. Quam similitudinem natura ratioque ab oculis ad animum transferens, multo etiam magis pulchritudinem, constantiam, ordinem, in consiliis factisque conservandum putat, cavetque ne quid indecorè effeminatève faciat; tum in omnibus et opinionibus et factis ne quid libidinosè aut faciat aut cogitet. Quibus ex rebus conflatur et efficitur id, quod quærimus, honestum.Cicero de officiis, l.1.
[1]Nec vero illa parva vis naturæ est rationisque, quod unum hoc animal sentit quid sit ordo, quid sit quod deceat in factis dictisque, qui modus. Itaque eorum ipsorum, quæ aspectu sentiuntur, nullum aliud animal, pulchritudinem, venustatem, convenientiam partium, sentit. Quam similitudinem natura ratioque ab oculis ad animum transferens, multo etiam magis pulchritudinem, constantiam, ordinem, in consiliis factisque conservandum putat, cavetque ne quid indecorè effeminatève faciat; tum in omnibus et opinionibus et factis ne quid libidinosè aut faciat aut cogitet. Quibus ex rebus conflatur et efficitur id, quod quærimus, honestum.Cicero de officiis, l.1.
[2]From many things that pass current in the world without being generally condemned, one at first view would imagine, that the sense of congruity or propriety hath scarce any foundation in nature; and that it is rather an artificial refinement of those who affect to distinguish themselves by a certain delicacy of taste and behaviour. The fulsome panegyrics bestowed upon the great and opulent, in epistles dedicatory and other such compositions, lead naturally to that thought. Did there prevail in the world, it will be said, or did nature suggest, a taste of what is suitable, decent, or proper, would any good writer deal in such compositions, or any man of sense receive them without disgust? Can it be supposed, that Lewis XIV. of France was endued by nature with any sense of propriety, when, in a dramatic performance purposely composed for his entertainment, he suffered himself, publicly and in his presence, to be styled the greatest king ever the earth produced? These it is true are strong facts; but luckily they do not prove the sense of propriety to be artificial. They only prove, that the sense of propriety is at times overpowered by pride and vanity; which is no singular case, for this sometimes is the fate even of the sense of justice.
[2]From many things that pass current in the world without being generally condemned, one at first view would imagine, that the sense of congruity or propriety hath scarce any foundation in nature; and that it is rather an artificial refinement of those who affect to distinguish themselves by a certain delicacy of taste and behaviour. The fulsome panegyrics bestowed upon the great and opulent, in epistles dedicatory and other such compositions, lead naturally to that thought. Did there prevail in the world, it will be said, or did nature suggest, a taste of what is suitable, decent, or proper, would any good writer deal in such compositions, or any man of sense receive them without disgust? Can it be supposed, that Lewis XIV. of France was endued by nature with any sense of propriety, when, in a dramatic performance purposely composed for his entertainment, he suffered himself, publicly and in his presence, to be styled the greatest king ever the earth produced? These it is true are strong facts; but luckily they do not prove the sense of propriety to be artificial. They only prove, that the sense of propriety is at times overpowered by pride and vanity; which is no singular case, for this sometimes is the fate even of the sense of justice.
[3]Contrary to this rule, the introduction to the third volume of theCharacteristics, is a continued chain of metaphors. These in such profusion are too florid for the subject; and have beside the bad effect of removing our attention from the principal subject, to fix it upon splendid trifles.
[3]Contrary to this rule, the introduction to the third volume of theCharacteristics, is a continued chain of metaphors. These in such profusion are too florid for the subject; and have beside the bad effect of removing our attention from the principal subject, to fix it upon splendid trifles.
[4]See act 1. sc. 2.
[4]See act 1. sc. 2.
[5]See chap. 7.
[5]See chap. 7.
[6]See chap. 3.
[6]See chap. 3.
[7]See the Introduction.
[7]See the Introduction.
[8]Part I. essay 2. chap. 4.
[8]Part I. essay 2. chap. 4.
[9]Poet. cap. 5.
[9]Poet. cap. 5.
[10]L. 2. De oratore.
[10]L. 2. De oratore.
[11]Ideoque anceps ejus rei ratio est, quod a derisu non procul abest risus.Lib.6.cap.3. § 1.
[11]Ideoque anceps ejus rei ratio est, quod a derisu non procul abest risus.Lib.6.cap.3. § 1.
[12]See chap. 7.
[12]See chap. 7.
[13]See chap. 10.
[13]See chap. 10.
[14]Scarron.
[14]Scarron.
[15]Tassoni.
[15]Tassoni.
[16]Nº 102.
[16]Nº 102.
[17]Tale of a Tub, sect. 7.
[17]Tale of a Tub, sect. 7.
[18]A true and faithful narrative of what passed in London during the general consternation of all ranks and degrees of mankind.
[18]A true and faithful narrative of what passed in London during the general consternation of all ranks and degrees of mankind.
[19]Æn. l. 1.At Venus obscuro, &c.
[19]Æn. l. 1.At Venus obscuro, &c.
[20]See chap. 10. compared with chap. 7.
[20]See chap. 10. compared with chap. 7.
[21]B. 2. ch. 11. § 2.
[21]B. 2. ch. 11. § 2.
[22]See chap. 1.
[22]See chap. 1.
[23]De oratore, l. 2. cap. 63.
[23]De oratore, l. 2. cap. 63.
[24]If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work:But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.First part, HenryIV.act 1. sc. 3.
[24]
If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work:But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.First part, HenryIV.act 1. sc. 3.
If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work:But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.First part, HenryIV.act 1. sc. 3.
If all the year were playing holidays,To sport would be as tedious as to work:But when they seldom come, they wish’d-for come,And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.First part, HenryIV.act 1. sc. 3.
[25]Violent love without affection is finely exemplified in the following story. When Constantinople was taken by the Turks, Irene, a young Greek of an illustrious family, fell into the hands of Mahomet II. who was at that time in the prime of youth and glory. Irene’s charms conquered the savage heart of Mahomet. He abandoned himself to his new mistress; and shut himself up with her, denying access even to his ministers. His passion seemed to increase with time. In the most important expeditions, frequently would he abandon the army, and fly to his Irene. War was at a stand, for victory was no longer the monarch’s favourite passion. The soldiers, accustomed to booty, began to murmur, and the infection spread even among the commanders. The Basha Mustapha, consulting the fidelity he owed his master, was the first who durst acquaint him of the discourses held publicly to the prejudice of his glory.The Sultan, after a gloomy silence, formed his resolution. He ordered Mustapha to assemble the troops next morning; and then retired with precipitation to Irene’s apartment. Never before did that princess appear so charming: never before did the prince bestow so many tender caresses. To give a new lustre to her beauty, he exhorted her women next morning to bestow all their art and care on her dress. He took her by the hand, led her into the middle of the army, and pulling off her vail, demanded at the Bashas with a fierce look, whether they had ever beheld so accomplished a beauty? After an awful pause, Mahomet with one hand laying hold of the young Greek by her beautiful locks, and with the other pulling out his simitar, severed the head from the body at one stroke. Then turning to his grandees, with eyes wild and furious, “This sword,” says he, “when it is my will, knows to cut the bands of love.”
[25]Violent love without affection is finely exemplified in the following story. When Constantinople was taken by the Turks, Irene, a young Greek of an illustrious family, fell into the hands of Mahomet II. who was at that time in the prime of youth and glory. Irene’s charms conquered the savage heart of Mahomet. He abandoned himself to his new mistress; and shut himself up with her, denying access even to his ministers. His passion seemed to increase with time. In the most important expeditions, frequently would he abandon the army, and fly to his Irene. War was at a stand, for victory was no longer the monarch’s favourite passion. The soldiers, accustomed to booty, began to murmur, and the infection spread even among the commanders. The Basha Mustapha, consulting the fidelity he owed his master, was the first who durst acquaint him of the discourses held publicly to the prejudice of his glory.
The Sultan, after a gloomy silence, formed his resolution. He ordered Mustapha to assemble the troops next morning; and then retired with precipitation to Irene’s apartment. Never before did that princess appear so charming: never before did the prince bestow so many tender caresses. To give a new lustre to her beauty, he exhorted her women next morning to bestow all their art and care on her dress. He took her by the hand, led her into the middle of the army, and pulling off her vail, demanded at the Bashas with a fierce look, whether they had ever beheld so accomplished a beauty? After an awful pause, Mahomet with one hand laying hold of the young Greek by her beautiful locks, and with the other pulling out his simitar, severed the head from the body at one stroke. Then turning to his grandees, with eyes wild and furious, “This sword,” says he, “when it is my will, knows to cut the bands of love.”
[26]See chap. 2. part 3.
[26]See chap. 2. part 3.
[27]Lady Easy, upon her husband’s reformation, expresses to her friend the following sentiment. “Be satisfy’d; Sir Charles has made me happy, even to a pain of joy.”
[27]Lady Easy, upon her husband’s reformation, expresses to her friend the following sentiment. “Be satisfy’d; Sir Charles has made me happy, even to a pain of joy.”
[28]See chap. 2. part 3.
[28]See chap. 2. part 3.
[29]See chap. 2. part 3.
[29]See chap. 2. part 3.
[30]See chap. 2. part 4.
[30]See chap. 2. part 4.
[31]Chap. 2. part 1. sect. 2.
[31]Chap. 2. part 1. sect. 2.
[32]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 6.
[32]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 6.
[33]Act 2.
[33]Act 2.
[34]Omnis enim motus animi, suum quemdam a natura habet vultum et sonum et gestum.Cicero, l. 3. De oratore.
[34]Omnis enim motus animi, suum quemdam a natura habet vultum et sonum et gestum.Cicero, l. 3. De oratore.
[35]See this explained, Essays on morality and natural religion, part 2. essay 5.
[35]See this explained, Essays on morality and natural religion, part 2. essay 5.
[36]See chap. 2. part 6.
[36]See chap. 2. part 6.
[37]See chap. 17.
[37]See chap. 17.
[38]Though a soliloquy in the perturbation of passion is undoubtedly natural, and indeed not unfrequent in real life; yet Congreve, who himself has penned several good soliloquies, yields, with more candor than knowledge, that they are unnatural; and he only pretends to justify them from necessity. This he does in his dedication of theDouble Dealer, in the following words. “When a man in soliloquy reasons with himself, andpro’sandcon’s, and weighs all his designs; we ought not to imagine, that this man either talks to us, or to himself; he is only thinking, and thinking (frequently) such matter as were inexcuseable folly in him to speak. But because we are concealed spectators of the plot in agitation, and the poet finds it necessary to let us know the whole mystery of his contrivance, he is willing to inform us of this person’s thoughts; and to that end is forced to make use of the expedient of speech, no other better way being yet invented for the communication of thought.”
[38]Though a soliloquy in the perturbation of passion is undoubtedly natural, and indeed not unfrequent in real life; yet Congreve, who himself has penned several good soliloquies, yields, with more candor than knowledge, that they are unnatural; and he only pretends to justify them from necessity. This he does in his dedication of theDouble Dealer, in the following words. “When a man in soliloquy reasons with himself, andpro’sandcon’s, and weighs all his designs; we ought not to imagine, that this man either talks to us, or to himself; he is only thinking, and thinking (frequently) such matter as were inexcuseable folly in him to speak. But because we are concealed spectators of the plot in agitation, and the poet finds it necessary to let us know the whole mystery of his contrivance, he is willing to inform us of this person’s thoughts; and to that end is forced to make use of the expedient of speech, no other better way being yet invented for the communication of thought.”
[39]Act 3. sc. 6.
[39]Act 3. sc. 6.
[40]The actions here chiefly in view, are what a passion suggests in order to its gratification. Beside these, actions are occasionally exerted to give some vent to a passion, without proposing an ultimate gratification. Such occasional action is characteristical of the passion in a high degree; and for that reason, when happily invented, has a wonderful good effect in poetry:Hamlet.Oh most pernicious woman!Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain!My tables—— meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writing.So, uncle, there you are.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 8.[41]See chap. 2. part 7.[42]See passions explained as agreeable or disagreeable, chap. 2. part 2.[43]Locke.[44]Rough and blunt manners, are allied to anger by an internal feeling, as well as by external expressions resembling in a faint degree those of anger. Therefore such manners are easily heightened into anger; and savages for that reason are prone to anger. Thus rough and blunt manners are unhappy in two respects. They are first readily converted into anger: and next, the change being imperceptible, because of the similitude of external signs, the person against whom the anger is directed is not put upon his guard. It is for these reasons a great object in society, to correct such manners, and to bring on a habit of sweetness and calmness. This temper has two opposite good effects. First it is not easily provoked to wrath. Next the interval being great betwixt it and real anger, a person of this temper who receives an affront, has many changes to go through before his anger be inflamed. These changes have each of them their external sign, and the offending party is put upon his guard, to retire, or to endeavour a reconciliation.[45]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 5.[46]See chap. 2. part 7.[47]See Appendix.[48]In theÆneid, the hero is made to describe himself in the following words:Sum pius Æneas, fama super æthera notus.Virgil could never have been guilty of an impropriety so gross, had he assumed the personage of his hero, instead of uttering the sentiments of a spectator. Nor would Xenophon have made the following speech for Cyrus the younger, to his Grecian auxiliaries, whom he was leading against his brother Artaxerxes. “I have chosen you, O Greeks! my auxiliaries, not to enlarge my army, for I haveBarbarianswithout number; but because you surpass all theBarbariansin valour and military discipline.” This sentiment is Xenophon’s; for surely Cyrus did not reckon his countrymen Barbarians.[49]See chap. 2. part 1. sect 6.[50]This criticism reaches the French dramatic writers in general, with very few exceptions. Their tragedies are mostly, if not totally, descriptive. Corneille led the way; and later writers following his track, have accustomed the French ear to a style, formal, pompous, declamatory, which suits not with any passion. Hence it becomes an easy task to burlesk a French tragedy: it is not more difficult than to burlesk a stiff solemn fop. The facility of the operation has in Paris introduced a singular amusement, which is, to burlesk the more successful tragedies in a sort of farce, calleda parody. La Motte, who himself appears to have been sorely galled by some of these burlesk compositions, acknowledges, that no more is necessary to give them a run, than barely to vary thedramatis personæ, and in place of kings and heroes, queens and princesses, to substitute tinkers and tailors, milkmaids and seamstresses. The declamatory style, so different from the genuine expression of passion, passes in some measure unobserved, when great personages are the speakers. But in the mouths of the vulgar, the impropriety, with regard to the speaker as well as to the passion represented, is so remarkable as to become ridiculous. A tragedy, where every passion is made to speak in its natural tone, is not liable to be thus burlesked. The same passion is by all men expressed nearly in the same manner: and therefore the genuine expressions of passion cannot be ridiculous in the mouth of any man, provided only he be of such a character as to be susceptible of the passion.It is a well-known fact, that to an English ear the French actors appear to pronounce with too great rapidity; a complaint much insisted on by Cibber in particular, who had frequently heard the famous Baron upon the French stage. This may in some measure be attributed to our want of facility in the French language; as foreigners generally imagine, that every language is pronounced too quick by natives. But that it is not the sole cause, will be probable from a fact directly opposite, that the French are not a little disgusted with the languidness, as they term it, of the English pronunciation. I conjecture this difference of taste may be derived from what is observed above. The pronunciation of the genuine language of passion is necessarily directed by the nature of the passion, and by the slowness or celerity of its progress. In particular, plaintive passions, which are the most frequent in tragedy, having a slow motion, dictate a slow pronunciation. In declamation again, which is not the genuine language of any passion, the speaker warms gradually; and as he warms, he naturally accelerates his pronunciation. But as the French have formed their tone of pronunciation upon Corneille’s declamatory tragedies, and the English upon the more natural language of Shakespear, it is not surprising that custom should produce such difference of taste in the two nations.[51]See chap. 2. part 3.[52]See chap. 2. part 7.[53]Titus Livius, l. 29. §17.[54]Canto 20. stan. 124. 125. & 126.[55]Page 316.[56]Act 1. sc. 1.[57]Act 2. sc. 1.[58]Beginning of act 2.[59]Act 3. sc. 3. at the close.[60]A certain author says humourously, “Les mots mêmes d’amour et d’amant sont bannis de l’intime société des deux sexes, et relegués avec ceux dechaineet deflamedans les Romans qu’on ne lit plus.” And where nature is once banished, a fair field is open to every fantastic imitation, even the most extravagant.[61]Act 4. sc. 5.[62]Act 4. sc. 7.[63]This observation is finely illustrated by a story which Herodotus records,book 3. Cambyses when he conquered Egypt, took Psammenitus the King prisoner: and to try his constancy, ordered his daughter to be dressed in the habit of a slave, and to be employ’d in bringing water from the river. His son also was led to execution with a halter about his neck. The Egyptians vented their sorrow in tears and lamentations. Psammenitus only, with a down-cast eye, remained silent. Afterward meeting one of his companions, a man advanced in years, who being plundered of all, was begging alms, he wept bitterly, calling him by his name. Cambyses was struck with wonder, and sent a messenger with the following question, “Psammenitus, thy master Cambyses is desirous to know, why, after thou hadst seen thy daughter so ignominiously treated, and thy son led to execution, without exclamation or weeping, thou shouldst be so highly concerned for a poor man no way related to thee?” Psammenitus returned the following answer: “Son of Cyrus, the calamities of my family are too great to leave me the power of weeping: but the misfortunes of a companion, reduced in his old age to want of bread, is a fit subject for lamentation.”[64]See chap. 2. part 3.[65]Chap. 16.[66]See this explained more particularly in chap. 8.[67]Of this take the following specimen:They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and, indeed, it takesFrom our atchievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,Since Nature cannot chuse his origin),By the o’ergrowth of some complexionOft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’er-leavensThe form of plausive manners; that these menCarrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,(Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s scar),Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 7.[68]The critics seem not perfectly to comprehend the genius of Shakespear. His plays are defective in the mechanical part, which is less the work of genius than of experience; and is not otherwise brought to perfection than by diligently observing the errors of former compositions. Shakespear excels all the ancients and moderns, in knowledge of human nature, and in unfolding even the most obscure and refined emotions. This is a rare faculty, and of the greatest importance in a dramatic author; and it is this faculty which makes him surpass all other writers in the comic as well as tragic vein.[69]Soliloquies accounted for chap. 15.[70]Act 2. sc. 2.[71]Act 1. sc. 1.[72]Act 1. sc. 2.[73]Act 1. sc. 2.[74]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.[75]Here the Germanais understood.[76]That the Italian tongue is rather too smooth, seems to appear from considering, that in versification vowels are frequently suppressed in order to produce a rougher and bolder tone.[77]See Swift’s proposal for correcting the English tongue, in a letter to the Earl of Oxford.[78]See the reason, chap. 8.[79]De structura perfectæ orationis, l. 2.[80]Scot’s Christian life.[81]Elements of criticism, vol. 1. p. 43.[82]Chap. 2. part 4.[83]Ibid.[84]See Gerard’s French grammar, discourse 12.[85]An argument against abolishing Christianity, Swift.[86]Letter concerning enthusiasm. Shaftesbury.[87]See chap. 8.[88]Treatise of the sublime, cap. 16.[89]Taking advantage of a declension to separate an adjective from its substantive, as is commonly practised in Latin, though it detract not from perspicuity, is certainly less neat than the English method of juxtaposition. Contiguity is more expressive of an intimate relation, than resemblance merely of the final syllables. Latin indeed has evidently the advantage when the adjective and substantive happen to be connected by contiguity as well as by the resemblance of the final syllables.[90]See chap. 1.[91]Reflections sur la poesie Françoise.[92]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.[93]Poet. L. 3. l. 365.-454.[94]See chap. 2. part 4.[95]De oratore, l. 3. cap. 58.[96]De structura orationis, sect. 2.[97]From this passage, however, we discover the etymology of the Latin term for musical expression. Every one being sensible that there is no music in a continued sound; the first inquiries were probably carried no farther, than that to produce a musical expression, a number of sounds is necessary; and musical expression obtained the name ofnumerus, before it was clearly ascertained, that variety is necessary as well as number.[98]Music, properly so called, is analysed into melody and harmony. A succession of sounds so as to be agreeable to the ear, constitutes melody. Harmony is the pleasure that arises from co-existing sounds. Verse therefore can only reach melody, and not harmony.[99]After some attention given to this subject, and weighing deliberately every circumstance, I have been forc’d to rest upon the foregoing conclusion, That the Dactyle and Spondee are no other than artificial measures invented for trying the accuracy of composition. Repeated experiments convince me, that though the sense should be altogether neglected, an Hexameter line read by Dactyles and Spondees, will not be melodious. And the composition of an Hexameter line demonstrates this to be true, without necessity of an experiment. It will appear afterward, that in an Hexameter line, there must always be a capital pause at the end of the fifth long syllable, reckoning, as above, two short for one long. And when we measure this line by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause now mentioned divides always a Dactyle or a Spondee: it never falls in at the end of either of these feet. Hence it is evident, that if a line be pronounced, as it is scanned, by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause must be utterly neglected; which consequently must destroy the melody, because a pause is essential to the melody of an Hexameter verse. If, on the other hand, the melody be preserved by making this pause, the pronouncing by Dactyles and Spondees must be abandoned.What has led grammarians into the use of Dactyles and Spondees, seems not beyond the reach of conjecture. To produce melody, the latter part of a Hexameter line consisting of a Dactyle and a Spondee, must be read according to these feet: in this part of the line, the Dactyle and Spondee are distinctly expressed in the pronunciation. This discovery, joined with another, that the foregoing part of the verse could be measured by the same feet, has led grammarians to adopt these artificial measures, and perhaps rashly to conclude, that the pronunciation is directed by these feet as well as the composition. The Dactyle and Spondee at the close, serve indeed the double purpose of regulating the pronunciation as well as the composition: but in the foregoing part of the line, they regulate the composition only, not the pronunciation.If we must have feet in verse to regulate the pronunciation, and consequently the melody, these feet must be determined by the pauses. The whole syllables interjected betwixt two pauses ought to be deemed one musical foot; because, to preserve the melody, they must all be pronounced together, without any stop. And therefore, whatever number there are of pauses in a Hexameter line, the parts into which it is divided by these pauses, make just so many musical feet.Connection obliges me here to anticipate, by observing, that the same doctrine is applicable to English heroic verse. Considering its composition merely, it is of two kinds. One is composed of five Iambi; and one of a Trochæus followed by four Iambi. But these feet afford no rule for pronouncing. The musical feet are obviously those parts of the line that are interjected betwixt two pauses. To bring out the melody, these feet must be expressed in the pronunciation; or, which comes to the same, the pronunciation must be directed by the pauses, without regard to the Iambus or Trochæus.[100]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.[101]Poet. cap. 25.[102]See chap. 9.[103]Vossius,de poematum cantu, p. 26. says, “Nihil æque gravitati orationis officit, quam in sono ludere syllabarum.”[104]Spectator, Nº 285.[105]Preface to hisŒdipus, and in his discourse upon tragedy, prefixed to the tragedy ofBrutus.
[40]The actions here chiefly in view, are what a passion suggests in order to its gratification. Beside these, actions are occasionally exerted to give some vent to a passion, without proposing an ultimate gratification. Such occasional action is characteristical of the passion in a high degree; and for that reason, when happily invented, has a wonderful good effect in poetry:
Hamlet.Oh most pernicious woman!Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain!My tables—— meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writing.So, uncle, there you are.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 8.
Hamlet.Oh most pernicious woman!Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain!My tables—— meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writing.So, uncle, there you are.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 8.
Hamlet.Oh most pernicious woman!Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain!My tables—— meet it is I set it down,That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain;At least I’m sure it may be so in Denmark. [Writing.So, uncle, there you are.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 8.
[41]See chap. 2. part 7.
[41]See chap. 2. part 7.
[42]See passions explained as agreeable or disagreeable, chap. 2. part 2.
[42]See passions explained as agreeable or disagreeable, chap. 2. part 2.
[43]Locke.
[43]Locke.
[44]Rough and blunt manners, are allied to anger by an internal feeling, as well as by external expressions resembling in a faint degree those of anger. Therefore such manners are easily heightened into anger; and savages for that reason are prone to anger. Thus rough and blunt manners are unhappy in two respects. They are first readily converted into anger: and next, the change being imperceptible, because of the similitude of external signs, the person against whom the anger is directed is not put upon his guard. It is for these reasons a great object in society, to correct such manners, and to bring on a habit of sweetness and calmness. This temper has two opposite good effects. First it is not easily provoked to wrath. Next the interval being great betwixt it and real anger, a person of this temper who receives an affront, has many changes to go through before his anger be inflamed. These changes have each of them their external sign, and the offending party is put upon his guard, to retire, or to endeavour a reconciliation.
[44]Rough and blunt manners, are allied to anger by an internal feeling, as well as by external expressions resembling in a faint degree those of anger. Therefore such manners are easily heightened into anger; and savages for that reason are prone to anger. Thus rough and blunt manners are unhappy in two respects. They are first readily converted into anger: and next, the change being imperceptible, because of the similitude of external signs, the person against whom the anger is directed is not put upon his guard. It is for these reasons a great object in society, to correct such manners, and to bring on a habit of sweetness and calmness. This temper has two opposite good effects. First it is not easily provoked to wrath. Next the interval being great betwixt it and real anger, a person of this temper who receives an affront, has many changes to go through before his anger be inflamed. These changes have each of them their external sign, and the offending party is put upon his guard, to retire, or to endeavour a reconciliation.
[45]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 5.
[45]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 5.
[46]See chap. 2. part 7.
[46]See chap. 2. part 7.
[47]See Appendix.
[47]See Appendix.
[48]In theÆneid, the hero is made to describe himself in the following words:Sum pius Æneas, fama super æthera notus.Virgil could never have been guilty of an impropriety so gross, had he assumed the personage of his hero, instead of uttering the sentiments of a spectator. Nor would Xenophon have made the following speech for Cyrus the younger, to his Grecian auxiliaries, whom he was leading against his brother Artaxerxes. “I have chosen you, O Greeks! my auxiliaries, not to enlarge my army, for I haveBarbarianswithout number; but because you surpass all theBarbariansin valour and military discipline.” This sentiment is Xenophon’s; for surely Cyrus did not reckon his countrymen Barbarians.
[48]In theÆneid, the hero is made to describe himself in the following words:Sum pius Æneas, fama super æthera notus.Virgil could never have been guilty of an impropriety so gross, had he assumed the personage of his hero, instead of uttering the sentiments of a spectator. Nor would Xenophon have made the following speech for Cyrus the younger, to his Grecian auxiliaries, whom he was leading against his brother Artaxerxes. “I have chosen you, O Greeks! my auxiliaries, not to enlarge my army, for I haveBarbarianswithout number; but because you surpass all theBarbariansin valour and military discipline.” This sentiment is Xenophon’s; for surely Cyrus did not reckon his countrymen Barbarians.
[49]See chap. 2. part 1. sect 6.
[49]See chap. 2. part 1. sect 6.
[50]This criticism reaches the French dramatic writers in general, with very few exceptions. Their tragedies are mostly, if not totally, descriptive. Corneille led the way; and later writers following his track, have accustomed the French ear to a style, formal, pompous, declamatory, which suits not with any passion. Hence it becomes an easy task to burlesk a French tragedy: it is not more difficult than to burlesk a stiff solemn fop. The facility of the operation has in Paris introduced a singular amusement, which is, to burlesk the more successful tragedies in a sort of farce, calleda parody. La Motte, who himself appears to have been sorely galled by some of these burlesk compositions, acknowledges, that no more is necessary to give them a run, than barely to vary thedramatis personæ, and in place of kings and heroes, queens and princesses, to substitute tinkers and tailors, milkmaids and seamstresses. The declamatory style, so different from the genuine expression of passion, passes in some measure unobserved, when great personages are the speakers. But in the mouths of the vulgar, the impropriety, with regard to the speaker as well as to the passion represented, is so remarkable as to become ridiculous. A tragedy, where every passion is made to speak in its natural tone, is not liable to be thus burlesked. The same passion is by all men expressed nearly in the same manner: and therefore the genuine expressions of passion cannot be ridiculous in the mouth of any man, provided only he be of such a character as to be susceptible of the passion.It is a well-known fact, that to an English ear the French actors appear to pronounce with too great rapidity; a complaint much insisted on by Cibber in particular, who had frequently heard the famous Baron upon the French stage. This may in some measure be attributed to our want of facility in the French language; as foreigners generally imagine, that every language is pronounced too quick by natives. But that it is not the sole cause, will be probable from a fact directly opposite, that the French are not a little disgusted with the languidness, as they term it, of the English pronunciation. I conjecture this difference of taste may be derived from what is observed above. The pronunciation of the genuine language of passion is necessarily directed by the nature of the passion, and by the slowness or celerity of its progress. In particular, plaintive passions, which are the most frequent in tragedy, having a slow motion, dictate a slow pronunciation. In declamation again, which is not the genuine language of any passion, the speaker warms gradually; and as he warms, he naturally accelerates his pronunciation. But as the French have formed their tone of pronunciation upon Corneille’s declamatory tragedies, and the English upon the more natural language of Shakespear, it is not surprising that custom should produce such difference of taste in the two nations.
[50]This criticism reaches the French dramatic writers in general, with very few exceptions. Their tragedies are mostly, if not totally, descriptive. Corneille led the way; and later writers following his track, have accustomed the French ear to a style, formal, pompous, declamatory, which suits not with any passion. Hence it becomes an easy task to burlesk a French tragedy: it is not more difficult than to burlesk a stiff solemn fop. The facility of the operation has in Paris introduced a singular amusement, which is, to burlesk the more successful tragedies in a sort of farce, calleda parody. La Motte, who himself appears to have been sorely galled by some of these burlesk compositions, acknowledges, that no more is necessary to give them a run, than barely to vary thedramatis personæ, and in place of kings and heroes, queens and princesses, to substitute tinkers and tailors, milkmaids and seamstresses. The declamatory style, so different from the genuine expression of passion, passes in some measure unobserved, when great personages are the speakers. But in the mouths of the vulgar, the impropriety, with regard to the speaker as well as to the passion represented, is so remarkable as to become ridiculous. A tragedy, where every passion is made to speak in its natural tone, is not liable to be thus burlesked. The same passion is by all men expressed nearly in the same manner: and therefore the genuine expressions of passion cannot be ridiculous in the mouth of any man, provided only he be of such a character as to be susceptible of the passion.
It is a well-known fact, that to an English ear the French actors appear to pronounce with too great rapidity; a complaint much insisted on by Cibber in particular, who had frequently heard the famous Baron upon the French stage. This may in some measure be attributed to our want of facility in the French language; as foreigners generally imagine, that every language is pronounced too quick by natives. But that it is not the sole cause, will be probable from a fact directly opposite, that the French are not a little disgusted with the languidness, as they term it, of the English pronunciation. I conjecture this difference of taste may be derived from what is observed above. The pronunciation of the genuine language of passion is necessarily directed by the nature of the passion, and by the slowness or celerity of its progress. In particular, plaintive passions, which are the most frequent in tragedy, having a slow motion, dictate a slow pronunciation. In declamation again, which is not the genuine language of any passion, the speaker warms gradually; and as he warms, he naturally accelerates his pronunciation. But as the French have formed their tone of pronunciation upon Corneille’s declamatory tragedies, and the English upon the more natural language of Shakespear, it is not surprising that custom should produce such difference of taste in the two nations.
[51]See chap. 2. part 3.
[51]See chap. 2. part 3.
[52]See chap. 2. part 7.
[52]See chap. 2. part 7.
[53]Titus Livius, l. 29. §17.
[53]Titus Livius, l. 29. §17.
[54]Canto 20. stan. 124. 125. & 126.
[54]Canto 20. stan. 124. 125. & 126.
[55]Page 316.
[55]Page 316.
[56]Act 1. sc. 1.
[56]Act 1. sc. 1.
[57]Act 2. sc. 1.
[57]Act 2. sc. 1.
[58]Beginning of act 2.
[58]Beginning of act 2.
[59]Act 3. sc. 3. at the close.
[59]Act 3. sc. 3. at the close.
[60]A certain author says humourously, “Les mots mêmes d’amour et d’amant sont bannis de l’intime société des deux sexes, et relegués avec ceux dechaineet deflamedans les Romans qu’on ne lit plus.” And where nature is once banished, a fair field is open to every fantastic imitation, even the most extravagant.
[60]A certain author says humourously, “Les mots mêmes d’amour et d’amant sont bannis de l’intime société des deux sexes, et relegués avec ceux dechaineet deflamedans les Romans qu’on ne lit plus.” And where nature is once banished, a fair field is open to every fantastic imitation, even the most extravagant.
[61]Act 4. sc. 5.
[61]Act 4. sc. 5.
[62]Act 4. sc. 7.
[62]Act 4. sc. 7.
[63]This observation is finely illustrated by a story which Herodotus records,book 3. Cambyses when he conquered Egypt, took Psammenitus the King prisoner: and to try his constancy, ordered his daughter to be dressed in the habit of a slave, and to be employ’d in bringing water from the river. His son also was led to execution with a halter about his neck. The Egyptians vented their sorrow in tears and lamentations. Psammenitus only, with a down-cast eye, remained silent. Afterward meeting one of his companions, a man advanced in years, who being plundered of all, was begging alms, he wept bitterly, calling him by his name. Cambyses was struck with wonder, and sent a messenger with the following question, “Psammenitus, thy master Cambyses is desirous to know, why, after thou hadst seen thy daughter so ignominiously treated, and thy son led to execution, without exclamation or weeping, thou shouldst be so highly concerned for a poor man no way related to thee?” Psammenitus returned the following answer: “Son of Cyrus, the calamities of my family are too great to leave me the power of weeping: but the misfortunes of a companion, reduced in his old age to want of bread, is a fit subject for lamentation.”
[63]This observation is finely illustrated by a story which Herodotus records,book 3. Cambyses when he conquered Egypt, took Psammenitus the King prisoner: and to try his constancy, ordered his daughter to be dressed in the habit of a slave, and to be employ’d in bringing water from the river. His son also was led to execution with a halter about his neck. The Egyptians vented their sorrow in tears and lamentations. Psammenitus only, with a down-cast eye, remained silent. Afterward meeting one of his companions, a man advanced in years, who being plundered of all, was begging alms, he wept bitterly, calling him by his name. Cambyses was struck with wonder, and sent a messenger with the following question, “Psammenitus, thy master Cambyses is desirous to know, why, after thou hadst seen thy daughter so ignominiously treated, and thy son led to execution, without exclamation or weeping, thou shouldst be so highly concerned for a poor man no way related to thee?” Psammenitus returned the following answer: “Son of Cyrus, the calamities of my family are too great to leave me the power of weeping: but the misfortunes of a companion, reduced in his old age to want of bread, is a fit subject for lamentation.”
[64]See chap. 2. part 3.
[64]See chap. 2. part 3.
[65]Chap. 16.
[65]Chap. 16.
[66]See this explained more particularly in chap. 8.
[66]See this explained more particularly in chap. 8.
[67]Of this take the following specimen:They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and, indeed, it takesFrom our atchievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,Since Nature cannot chuse his origin),By the o’ergrowth of some complexionOft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’er-leavensThe form of plausive manners; that these menCarrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,(Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s scar),Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 7.
[67]Of this take the following specimen:
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and, indeed, it takesFrom our atchievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,Since Nature cannot chuse his origin),By the o’ergrowth of some complexionOft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’er-leavensThe form of plausive manners; that these menCarrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,(Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s scar),Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 7.
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and, indeed, it takesFrom our atchievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,Since Nature cannot chuse his origin),By the o’ergrowth of some complexionOft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’er-leavensThe form of plausive manners; that these menCarrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,(Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s scar),Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 7.
They clepe us drunkards, and with swinish phraseSoil our addition; and, indeed, it takesFrom our atchievements, though perform’d at height,The pith and marrow of our attribute.So, oft it chances in particular men,That for some vicious mole of nature in them,As, in their birth, (wherein they are not guilty,Since Nature cannot chuse his origin),By the o’ergrowth of some complexionOft breaking down the pales and forts of reason;Or by some habit, that too much o’er-leavensThe form of plausive manners; that these menCarrying, I say, the stamp of one defect,(Being Nature’s livery, or Fortune’s scar),Their virtues else, be they as pure as grace,As infinite as man may undergo,Shall in the general censure take corruptionFrom that particular fault.Hamlet, act 1. sc. 7.
[68]The critics seem not perfectly to comprehend the genius of Shakespear. His plays are defective in the mechanical part, which is less the work of genius than of experience; and is not otherwise brought to perfection than by diligently observing the errors of former compositions. Shakespear excels all the ancients and moderns, in knowledge of human nature, and in unfolding even the most obscure and refined emotions. This is a rare faculty, and of the greatest importance in a dramatic author; and it is this faculty which makes him surpass all other writers in the comic as well as tragic vein.
[68]The critics seem not perfectly to comprehend the genius of Shakespear. His plays are defective in the mechanical part, which is less the work of genius than of experience; and is not otherwise brought to perfection than by diligently observing the errors of former compositions. Shakespear excels all the ancients and moderns, in knowledge of human nature, and in unfolding even the most obscure and refined emotions. This is a rare faculty, and of the greatest importance in a dramatic author; and it is this faculty which makes him surpass all other writers in the comic as well as tragic vein.
[69]Soliloquies accounted for chap. 15.
[69]Soliloquies accounted for chap. 15.
[70]Act 2. sc. 2.
[70]Act 2. sc. 2.
[71]Act 1. sc. 1.
[71]Act 1. sc. 1.
[72]Act 1. sc. 2.
[72]Act 1. sc. 2.
[73]Act 1. sc. 2.
[73]Act 1. sc. 2.
[74]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.
[74]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.
[75]Here the Germanais understood.
[75]Here the Germanais understood.
[76]That the Italian tongue is rather too smooth, seems to appear from considering, that in versification vowels are frequently suppressed in order to produce a rougher and bolder tone.
[76]That the Italian tongue is rather too smooth, seems to appear from considering, that in versification vowels are frequently suppressed in order to produce a rougher and bolder tone.
[77]See Swift’s proposal for correcting the English tongue, in a letter to the Earl of Oxford.
[77]See Swift’s proposal for correcting the English tongue, in a letter to the Earl of Oxford.
[78]See the reason, chap. 8.
[78]See the reason, chap. 8.
[79]De structura perfectæ orationis, l. 2.
[79]De structura perfectæ orationis, l. 2.
[80]Scot’s Christian life.
[80]Scot’s Christian life.
[81]Elements of criticism, vol. 1. p. 43.
[81]Elements of criticism, vol. 1. p. 43.
[82]Chap. 2. part 4.
[82]Chap. 2. part 4.
[83]Ibid.
[83]Ibid.
[84]See Gerard’s French grammar, discourse 12.
[84]See Gerard’s French grammar, discourse 12.
[85]An argument against abolishing Christianity, Swift.
[85]An argument against abolishing Christianity, Swift.
[86]Letter concerning enthusiasm. Shaftesbury.
[86]Letter concerning enthusiasm. Shaftesbury.
[87]See chap. 8.
[87]See chap. 8.
[88]Treatise of the sublime, cap. 16.
[88]Treatise of the sublime, cap. 16.
[89]Taking advantage of a declension to separate an adjective from its substantive, as is commonly practised in Latin, though it detract not from perspicuity, is certainly less neat than the English method of juxtaposition. Contiguity is more expressive of an intimate relation, than resemblance merely of the final syllables. Latin indeed has evidently the advantage when the adjective and substantive happen to be connected by contiguity as well as by the resemblance of the final syllables.
[89]Taking advantage of a declension to separate an adjective from its substantive, as is commonly practised in Latin, though it detract not from perspicuity, is certainly less neat than the English method of juxtaposition. Contiguity is more expressive of an intimate relation, than resemblance merely of the final syllables. Latin indeed has evidently the advantage when the adjective and substantive happen to be connected by contiguity as well as by the resemblance of the final syllables.
[90]See chap. 1.
[90]See chap. 1.
[91]Reflections sur la poesie Françoise.
[91]Reflections sur la poesie Françoise.
[92]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.
[92]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.
[93]Poet. L. 3. l. 365.-454.
[93]Poet. L. 3. l. 365.-454.
[94]See chap. 2. part 4.
[94]See chap. 2. part 4.
[95]De oratore, l. 3. cap. 58.
[95]De oratore, l. 3. cap. 58.
[96]De structura orationis, sect. 2.
[96]De structura orationis, sect. 2.
[97]From this passage, however, we discover the etymology of the Latin term for musical expression. Every one being sensible that there is no music in a continued sound; the first inquiries were probably carried no farther, than that to produce a musical expression, a number of sounds is necessary; and musical expression obtained the name ofnumerus, before it was clearly ascertained, that variety is necessary as well as number.
[97]From this passage, however, we discover the etymology of the Latin term for musical expression. Every one being sensible that there is no music in a continued sound; the first inquiries were probably carried no farther, than that to produce a musical expression, a number of sounds is necessary; and musical expression obtained the name ofnumerus, before it was clearly ascertained, that variety is necessary as well as number.
[98]Music, properly so called, is analysed into melody and harmony. A succession of sounds so as to be agreeable to the ear, constitutes melody. Harmony is the pleasure that arises from co-existing sounds. Verse therefore can only reach melody, and not harmony.
[98]Music, properly so called, is analysed into melody and harmony. A succession of sounds so as to be agreeable to the ear, constitutes melody. Harmony is the pleasure that arises from co-existing sounds. Verse therefore can only reach melody, and not harmony.
[99]After some attention given to this subject, and weighing deliberately every circumstance, I have been forc’d to rest upon the foregoing conclusion, That the Dactyle and Spondee are no other than artificial measures invented for trying the accuracy of composition. Repeated experiments convince me, that though the sense should be altogether neglected, an Hexameter line read by Dactyles and Spondees, will not be melodious. And the composition of an Hexameter line demonstrates this to be true, without necessity of an experiment. It will appear afterward, that in an Hexameter line, there must always be a capital pause at the end of the fifth long syllable, reckoning, as above, two short for one long. And when we measure this line by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause now mentioned divides always a Dactyle or a Spondee: it never falls in at the end of either of these feet. Hence it is evident, that if a line be pronounced, as it is scanned, by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause must be utterly neglected; which consequently must destroy the melody, because a pause is essential to the melody of an Hexameter verse. If, on the other hand, the melody be preserved by making this pause, the pronouncing by Dactyles and Spondees must be abandoned.What has led grammarians into the use of Dactyles and Spondees, seems not beyond the reach of conjecture. To produce melody, the latter part of a Hexameter line consisting of a Dactyle and a Spondee, must be read according to these feet: in this part of the line, the Dactyle and Spondee are distinctly expressed in the pronunciation. This discovery, joined with another, that the foregoing part of the verse could be measured by the same feet, has led grammarians to adopt these artificial measures, and perhaps rashly to conclude, that the pronunciation is directed by these feet as well as the composition. The Dactyle and Spondee at the close, serve indeed the double purpose of regulating the pronunciation as well as the composition: but in the foregoing part of the line, they regulate the composition only, not the pronunciation.If we must have feet in verse to regulate the pronunciation, and consequently the melody, these feet must be determined by the pauses. The whole syllables interjected betwixt two pauses ought to be deemed one musical foot; because, to preserve the melody, they must all be pronounced together, without any stop. And therefore, whatever number there are of pauses in a Hexameter line, the parts into which it is divided by these pauses, make just so many musical feet.Connection obliges me here to anticipate, by observing, that the same doctrine is applicable to English heroic verse. Considering its composition merely, it is of two kinds. One is composed of five Iambi; and one of a Trochæus followed by four Iambi. But these feet afford no rule for pronouncing. The musical feet are obviously those parts of the line that are interjected betwixt two pauses. To bring out the melody, these feet must be expressed in the pronunciation; or, which comes to the same, the pronunciation must be directed by the pauses, without regard to the Iambus or Trochæus.
[99]After some attention given to this subject, and weighing deliberately every circumstance, I have been forc’d to rest upon the foregoing conclusion, That the Dactyle and Spondee are no other than artificial measures invented for trying the accuracy of composition. Repeated experiments convince me, that though the sense should be altogether neglected, an Hexameter line read by Dactyles and Spondees, will not be melodious. And the composition of an Hexameter line demonstrates this to be true, without necessity of an experiment. It will appear afterward, that in an Hexameter line, there must always be a capital pause at the end of the fifth long syllable, reckoning, as above, two short for one long. And when we measure this line by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause now mentioned divides always a Dactyle or a Spondee: it never falls in at the end of either of these feet. Hence it is evident, that if a line be pronounced, as it is scanned, by Dactyles and Spondees, the pause must be utterly neglected; which consequently must destroy the melody, because a pause is essential to the melody of an Hexameter verse. If, on the other hand, the melody be preserved by making this pause, the pronouncing by Dactyles and Spondees must be abandoned.
What has led grammarians into the use of Dactyles and Spondees, seems not beyond the reach of conjecture. To produce melody, the latter part of a Hexameter line consisting of a Dactyle and a Spondee, must be read according to these feet: in this part of the line, the Dactyle and Spondee are distinctly expressed in the pronunciation. This discovery, joined with another, that the foregoing part of the verse could be measured by the same feet, has led grammarians to adopt these artificial measures, and perhaps rashly to conclude, that the pronunciation is directed by these feet as well as the composition. The Dactyle and Spondee at the close, serve indeed the double purpose of regulating the pronunciation as well as the composition: but in the foregoing part of the line, they regulate the composition only, not the pronunciation.
If we must have feet in verse to regulate the pronunciation, and consequently the melody, these feet must be determined by the pauses. The whole syllables interjected betwixt two pauses ought to be deemed one musical foot; because, to preserve the melody, they must all be pronounced together, without any stop. And therefore, whatever number there are of pauses in a Hexameter line, the parts into which it is divided by these pauses, make just so many musical feet.
Connection obliges me here to anticipate, by observing, that the same doctrine is applicable to English heroic verse. Considering its composition merely, it is of two kinds. One is composed of five Iambi; and one of a Trochæus followed by four Iambi. But these feet afford no rule for pronouncing. The musical feet are obviously those parts of the line that are interjected betwixt two pauses. To bring out the melody, these feet must be expressed in the pronunciation; or, which comes to the same, the pronunciation must be directed by the pauses, without regard to the Iambus or Trochæus.
[100]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.
[100]See chap. 2. part 1. sect. 4.
[101]Poet. cap. 25.
[101]Poet. cap. 25.
[102]See chap. 9.
[102]See chap. 9.
[103]Vossius,de poematum cantu, p. 26. says, “Nihil æque gravitati orationis officit, quam in sono ludere syllabarum.”
[103]Vossius,de poematum cantu, p. 26. says, “Nihil æque gravitati orationis officit, quam in sono ludere syllabarum.”
[104]Spectator, Nº 285.
[104]Spectator, Nº 285.
[105]Preface to hisŒdipus, and in his discourse upon tragedy, prefixed to the tragedy ofBrutus.
[105]Preface to hisŒdipus, and in his discourse upon tragedy, prefixed to the tragedy ofBrutus.