partly the effect of artificial associations. Hence it happens, that any one modulation of sound continued, imprints on our Style a certain character and expression. Sentences constructed with the Ciceronian fulness and swell, produce the impression of what is important, magnificent, sedate; for this is the natural tone which such a course of sentiment assumes. But they suit no violent passion, no eager reasoning, no familiar address. These always require measures brisker, easier, and often more abrupt. And, therefore, to swell, or to let down the periods, as the subject demands, is a very important rule in oratory. No one tenor whatever, supposing it to produce no bad effect from satiety, will answer to all different compositions; nor even to all the parts of the same composition. It were as absurd to write a panegyric, and an invective, in a style of the same cadence, as to set the words of a tender love-song to the air of a warlike march.

Observe how finely the following Sentence of Cicero is adapted, to represent the tranquillity and ease of a satisfied state: "Etsi homini nihil est magis "optandum quam prospera, æquabilis, perpetuaque "fortuna, secundo vitæ sine ulla offensione cursu ; “tamen, si mihi tranquilla et placata omnia fuissent, "incredibili quâdam et pene divinâ, quâ nunc vestro "beneficio fruor, lætitiæ voluptate caruissem.” * Nothing was ever more perfect in its kind: it paints, if we may so speak, to the ear. But, who would not have laughed, if Cicero had employed such periods, or such a cadence as this, in inveighing

Orat. ad Quirites, post Reditum.

against Mark Antony, or Catiline? What is requisite, therefore, is, that we previously fix, in our mind, a just idea of the general tone of sound which suits our subject; that is, which the sentiments we are to express, most naturally assume, and in which they most commonly vent themselves; whether round and smooth, or stately and solemn, or brisk and quick, or interrupted and abrupt. This general idea must direct the modulation of our periods: to speak in the style of music, must give us the key note, must form the ground of the melody; varied and diversified in parts, according as either our sentiments are diversified, or as is requisite for producing a suitable variety to gratify the ear.

It may be proper to remark, that our translators of the Bible have often been happy in suiting their numbers to the subject. Grave, solemn, and majestic subjects undoubtedly require such an arrangement of words as runs much on long syllables; and, particu larly, they require the close to rest upon such. The very first verses of the Bible, are remarkable for this melody; "In the beginning, God created the heavens "and the earth; and the earth was without form, "and void; and darkness was upon the face of the "deep; and the Spirit of God moved upon the face "of the waters." Several other passages, particularly some of the Psalms, afford striking examples of this sort of grave, melodious construction. Any composition that rises considerably above the ordinary tone of prose, such as monumental inscriptions, and panegyrical characters, naturally runs into numbers of this kind.

But, in the next place, besides the general correspondence of the current of sound with the current of

thought, there may be a more particular expression attempted, of certain objects, by means of resembling sounds. This can be sometimes accomplished in prose composition; but there only in a more faint degree; nor is it so much expected there. In poetry, chiefly, it is looked for; where attention to sound is more demanded, and where the inversions and liberties of poetical style give us a greater command of sound; assisted, too, by the versification, and that cantus obscurior, to which we are naturally led in reading poetry. This requires a little more illus

tration.

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

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

as with us, the whistling of winds, the buz and hum of insects, the hiss of serpents, the crash of falling timber, and many other instances, where the word has been plainly framed upon the sound it represents. I shall produce a remarkable example of this beauty from Milton, taken from two passages in Paradise Lost, describing the sound made, in the one, by the opening of the gates of Hell; in the other, by the opening of those of Heaven. The contrast between the two, displays to great advantage, the poet's art. The first is the opening of Hell's gates:

On a sudden, open fly,

With impetuous recoil, and jarring sound,
Th' infernal doors; and on their hinges grate
Harsh thunder

Observe, now, the smoothness of the other:

Heaven opened wide

Her ever-during gates, harmonious sound,
On golden hinges turning.

B.i.

B. ii.

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

Chiama gli habitator de l'ombre eterne
Il rauco suon de la Tartarea tromba:
Treman le spaciose atre caverne,
Et l'aer cieco a quel rumor rimbomba ;
Ni stridendo cosi de la superne
Regioni dele cielo, il folgor piomba ;
Ne si scossa giammai la terra,
Quand i vapori in sen gravida serra.

CANT. IV. Stanz. 4.

The second class of objects, which the sound of words is often employed to imitate, is, Motion; as it is swift or slow, violent or gentle, equable or interrupted, easy or accompanied with effort. Though there be no natural affinity between sound, of any

kind, and motion, yet, in the imagination, there is a strong one; as appears from the connection between music and dancing. And therefore, here it is in the poet's power to give us a lively idea of the kind of motion he would describe, by means of sounds which correspond, in our imagination, with that motion. Long syllables naturally give the impression of slow emotion; as in this line of Virgil:

Olli inter sese magna vi brachia tollunt.

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

Quadrupedante putrem sonitu quatit ungula campum.”

Both Homer and Virgil are great masters of this beauty, and their works abound with instances of it; most of them, indeed, so often quoted and so well known that it is needless to produce them. I shall give one instance, in English, which seems happy. It is the description of a sudden calm on the seas, in a Poem intitled, The Fleece.

With easy course

The vessels glide; unless their speed be stopped
By dead calms, that oft lie on these smooth seas
When every zephyr sleeps; then the shrouds drop;
The downy feather on the cordage hung

Moves not; the flat sea shines like yellow gold
Fus'd in the fire, or like the marble floor

Of some old temple wide.

The third set of objects, which I mentioned the sound of words as capable of representing, consists of the passions and emotions of the mind. Sound may, at first view, appear foreign to these; but, that here, also, there is some sort of connection, is sufficiently proved by the power which music has to