Home1810 Edition

POETRY

Volume 16 · 11,037 words · 1810 Edition

Epitaph. We shall conclude this species of poetry with a droll and satirical epitaph written by Mr Pope, which we transcribed from a monument in Lord Cobham's gardens at Stow in Buckinghamshire.

To the Memory of

SIGNOR FIDO, An Italian of good extraction; Who came into England, Not to bite us, like most of his Countrymen, But to gain an honest Livelihood. He hunted not after Fame, Yet acquired it; Regardless of the Praise of his Friends, But most sensible of their Love, Though he lived amongst the Great, He neither learnt nor flattered any Vice. He was no bigot, Though he doubted of none of the 39 Articles.

And, if to follow Nature, And to respect the laws of Society, Be Philosophy, He was a perfect Philosopher, A faithful Friend, An agreeable Companion, A loving Husband Distinguished by a numerous offspring, All which he lived to see take good Course. In his old Age he retired To the house of a Clergyman in the country, Where he finished his earthly Race, And died an Honour and an Example to the whole Species.

Reader, This Stone is guiltless of Flattery; For he to whom it is inscribed Was not a Man, But a GRE-HOUND.

Part III. ON VERSIFICATION.

ON this subject it is meant to confine our inquiry to Latin or Greek hexameters, and to French and English heroic verse; as the observations we shall have occasion to make, may, with proper variations, be easily transferred to the composition of other sorts of verse.

Before entering upon particulars, it must be premised in general, that to verse of every kind five things are of importance. 1st, The number of syllables that compose a line. 2d, The different lengths of syllables, i.e., the difference of time taken in pronouncing. 3d, The arrangement of these syllables combined in words. 4th, The pauses or stops in pronouncing. 5th, Pronouncing syllables in a high or a low tone. The three first mentioned are obviously essential to verse: if any of them be wanting, there cannot be that higher degree of melody which distinguishes verse from prose. To give a just notion of the fourth, it must be observed, that pauses are necessary for three different purposes:

1. To separate periods, and members of the same period, according to the sense: another, to improve the melody of verse: and the last, to afford opportunity for drawing breath in reading. A pause of the first kind is variable, being long or short, frequent or less frequent, as the sense requires. A pause of the second kind, being determined by the melody, is in no degree arbitrary. The last sort is in a measure arbitrary, depending on the reader's command of breath. But as one cannot read with grace, unless, for drawing breath, opportunity be taken of a pause in the sense or in the melody, this pause ought never to be distinguished from the others; and for that reason shall be laid aside. With respect then to the pauses of sense and of melody, it may be affirmed without hesitation, that their coincidence in verse is a capital beauty: but as it cannot be expected, in a long work especially, that every line should be so perfect; we shall afterward have occasion to see, that, unless the reader be uncommonly skilful, the pause necessary for the sense must often, in some degree, be sacrificed to the verse-pause, and the latter sometimes to the former.

The pronouncing syllables in a high or low tone contributes also to melody. In reading, whether verse or prose, a certain tone is assumed, which may be called the key-note; and in that tone the bulk of the words are founded. Sometimes to humour the sense, and sometimes the melody, a particular syllable is founded in a higher tone, and this is termed accenting a syllable, or gracing it with an accent. Opposed to the accent is the cadence, which, however, being entirely regulated by the sense, hath no peculiar relation to verse. The cadence is a falling of the voice below the key-note at the close of every period; and so little is it essential to verse, that in correct reading the final syllable of every line is accented, that syllable only excepted which closes the period, where the sense requires a cadence.

Though the five requisites above mentioned enter the composition of every species of verse, they are however governed by different rules, peculiar to each species. Upon quantity only, one general observation may be premised, because it is applicable to every species of verse. That syllables, with respect to the time taken in pronouncing, are long or short; two short syllables, with respect to time, being precisely equal to a long one. These two lengths are essential to verse of all kinds; and to no verse, it is believed, is a greater variety of time necessary in pronouncing syllables. The voice indeed is frequently made to rest longer than usual upon a word that bears an important signification; but this is done to humour the sense, and is not necessary for melody. A thing not more necessary for melody occurs with respect to accenting, similar to that now mentioned: a word signifying anything humble, low, or dejected, is naturally, in prose as well as in verse, pronounced in a tone below the key-note.

We are now sufficiently prepared for particulars; beginning with Latin or Greek hexameter, which are the same. The observations upon this species of verse will come under the four following heads; number, arrangement, pause, and accent; for as to quantity, what is observed above may suffice.

I. HEXAMETER I. HEXAMETER LINES, as to time, are all of the same length; being equivalent to the time taken in pronouncing twelve long syllables or twenty-four short. An hexameter line may consist of seventeen syllables; and when regular and not spondeic it never has fewer than thirteen; whence it follows, that where the syllables are many, the plurality must be short; where few, the plurality must be long.

This line is susceptible of much variety as to the succession of long and short syllables. It is, however, subjected to laws that confine its variety within certain limits: and for attaining these limits, grammarians have invented a rule by dactyls and spondees, which they denominate feet.

Among the ancient Greeks and Romans, these feet regulated the pronunciation, which they are far from doing among us; of which the reason will be discovered from the explanation that we shall give of the English accent. We shall at present content ourselves with pointing out the difference between our pronunciation and that of the Romans in the first line of Virgil's elegies, where it is scarcely credible how much we pervert the quantity.

Tīt'yrē tū pat'ulā rec'ubans sub teg'minē fāgī.

It will be acknowledged by every reader who has an ear, that we have placed the accentual marks upon every syllable, and the letter of every syllable, that an Englishman marks with the iclusus of his voice when he recites the line. But, as will be seen presently, a syllable which is pronounced with the strels of the voice upon a consonant is uttered in the shortest time possible. Hence it follows, that in this verse, as recited by us, there are but two long syllables, tū and fā; though it is certain, that, as recited by a Roman, it contained no fewer than eight long syllables.

Tīt'yrē | tū pat'ū | jāē rēcūl'bans fūb | teg'minē | fāgī.

But though to pronounce it in this manner with the voice dwelling on the vowel of each long syllable would undoubtedly be correct, and preserve the true movement of the verse, yet to an English ear, prejudiced in behalf of a different movement, it sounds to very uncouth, that Lord Kames has pronounced the true feet of the Greek and Roman verses extremely artificial and complex; and has substituted in their stead the following rules, which he thinks more simple and of more easy application. 1st, The line must always commence with a long syllable, and close with two long preceded by two short. 2nd, More than two short can never be found together, nor fewer than two. And, 3rd, Two long syllables which have been preceded by two short cannot also be followed by two short. These few rules fulfil all the conditions of a hexameter line with relation to order or arrangement. For these again a single rule may be substituted, which has also the advantage of regulating more affirmatively the construction of every part. To put this rule into words with perspicuity, a hint is taken from the twelve long syllables that compose an hexameter line, to divide it into twelve equal parts or portions, being each of them one long syllable or two short. The rule then is: "The 1st, 3d, 5th, 7th, 9th, 11th, and 12th portions, must each of them be one long syllable; the 10th must always be two short syllables; the 2d, 4th, 6th, and 8th, may either be one long or two short." Or to express the thing still more shortly, "The 2d, 4th, 6th, and 8th portions may be one long syllable or two short; the 10th must be two short syllables; all the rest must consist each of one long syllable." This fulfils all the conditions of an hexameter line, and comprehends all the combinations of dactyls and spondees that this line admits.

Next in order comes the pause. At the end of every pause in hexameter line, every one must be sensible of a complete cloise or full pause; the cause of which follows. The two long syllables preceded by two short, which always respect to cloise an hexameter line, are a fine preparation for a melody and pause: for long syllables, or syllables pronounced flow, resembling a slow and languid motion tending to rest, naturally incline the mind to rest, or, which is the same, to pause; and to this inclination the two preceding short syllables contribute, which, by contrast, make the flow pronunciation of the final syllables the more conspicuous. Before this complete cloise or full pause at the end, others are also requisite for the sake of melody; of which two are clearly discoverable, and perhaps there may be more. The longest and most remarkable succeeds the 5th portion: the other, which, being shorter and more faint, may be called the semipause, succeeds the 8th portion. So striking is the pause first mentioned, as to be distinguished even by the rudest ear: the monkish rhymes are evidently built upon it; in which, by an invariable rule, the final word always chimes with that which immediately precedes the pause:

De planctu cudo || metrum cum carmine nudo Mingere cum bumbis || res est saluberrima lumbis.

The difference of time in the pause and semipause occasions another difference not less remarkable; that it is lawful to divide a word by a semipause, but never by a pause, the bad effect of which is sensibly felt in the following examples:

Effusus labor, at||que inmitis rupta Tyranni Again: Observans nido im||plumes detraxit; at illa Again: Loricam quam De||moleo detraxerat ipse

The dividing a word by a semipause has not the same bad effect:

Jamque pedem referens || cafus e||vaferat omnes. Again: Qualis populea || mores Philomela sub umbra Again: Ludere qua vellem || calamo per||misit agresti.

Lines, however, where words are left entire, without being divided even by a semipause, run by that means much the more sweetly.

Nec gemere aërea || cessabit | turtur ab ulmo. Again: Quadrupedante putrem || fonitu quati | ungula campum. Again: Eurydicen toto || referebant | flumine ripae.

The reason of these observations will be evident upon the slightest reflection. Between things so intimately connected connected in reading aloud as are sense and sound, every degree of discord is unpleasant; and for that reason it is a matter of importance to make the musical pauses coincide as much as possible with those of sense; which is requisite more especially with respect to the pause, a deviation from the rule being less remarkable in a semi-pause. Considering the matter as to melody solely, it is indifferent whether the pauses be at the end of words or in the middle; but when we carry the sense along, it is disagreeable to find a word split into two by a pause, as if there were really two words: and though the disagreeable ends here be connected with the sense only, it is by an easy transition of perceptions transferred to the sound; by which means we conceive a line to be harsh and grating to the ear, when in reality it is only so to the understanding.

To the rule that fixes the pause after the 5th portion there is one exception and no more. If the syllable succeeding the 5th portion be short, the pause is sometimes postponed to it:

Pupilis quos dura || premitt custodia matrum

Again:

In terras oppressa || gravi sub religione

Again:

Et quorum pars magna || fui; quis talia fando

This contributes to diversify the melody; and, where the words are smooth and liquid, is not ungraceful; as in the following examples:

Formosam resonare || doces Amaryllida sylvas

Again:

Agricolae, quibus ipsa || procul discordibus armis

If this pause, placed as aforesaid after the short syllable, happen also to divide a word, the melody by these circumstances is totally annihilated. Witness the following line of Ennius, which is plain prose:

Romae moenia terrulit impiger | Hannibal armis.

Hitherto the arrangement of the long and short syllables of an hexameter line, and its different pauses, have been considered with respect to melody; but to have a just notion of hexameter verse, these particulars must also be considered with respect to sense. There is not perhaps in any other sort of verse such latitude in the long and short syllables; a circumstance that contributes greatly to that richness of melody which is remarkable in hexameter verse, and which made Aristotle pronounce that an epic poem in any other verse would not succeed*. One defect, however, must not be dissembled, that the same means which contribute to the richness of the melody render it less fit than several other sorts for a narrative poem. There cannot be a more artful contrivance, as above observed, than to close an hexameter line with two long syllables preceded by two short: but unhappily this construction proves a great embarrassment to the sense; which will thus be evident. As in general there ought to be a strict concordance between the thought and the words in which it is dressed; so, in particular, every close in the sense ought to be accompanied with a close in the sound. In prose this law may be rigidly observed, but in verse the same strictness would occasion insuperable difficulties. Willing to sacrifice to the melody of verse some share of the concordance between thought and expression, we freely excuse the separation of the musical pause from that of the sense during the course of a line; but the close of an hexameter line is too conspicuous to admit this liberty: for which reason there ought always to be some pause in the sense at the end of every hexameter line, were it but such a pause as is marked by a comma; and for the same reason there ought never to be a full close in the sense but at the end of a line, because there the melody is closed. An hexameter line, to preserve its melody, cannot well admit any great relaxation; and yet, in a narrative poem, it is extremely difficult to adhere strictly to the rule even with these indulgences. Virgil, the chief of poets for versification, is forced often to end a line without any close in the sense, and as often to close the sense during the running of a line; though a close in the melody during the movement of the thought, or a close in the thought during the movement of the melody, cannot be agreeable.

The accent, to which we proceed, is not less essential than the other circumstances above noticed. By a good accent, it will be discerned, that in every line there is one syllable distinguishable from the rest by a capital accent: That syllable, being the seventh portion, is invariably long.

Nec bene promeritis || capituri nee | tangitur ira

Again:

Non fibi sed toto || genitum se | credere mundo

Again:

Qualis spelunca || subito commota columba

In these examples the accent is laid upon the last syllable of a word; which is favourable to the melody in the following respect, that the pause, which for the sake of reading distinctly must follow every word, gives opportunity to prolong the accent. And for that reason, a line thus accented has a more spirited air than when the accent is placed on any other syllable. Compare the foregoing lines with the following.

Alba neque Assyrio || fucatur | lana veneno

Again:

Panditur interea || domus omnipotentis Olympi

Again:

Olli fedato || respondit | corde Latinus.

In lines where the pause comes after the short syllable succeeding the 5th portion, the accent is displaced, and rendered less sensible: it seems to be split into two, and to be laid partly on the 5th portion, and partly on the 7th, its usual place; as in

Nuda genu, nodaque || sinu colletta fluentes.

Again:

Formosam resonare || doces Amaryllida sylvas.

Besides this capital accent, slighter accents are laid upon other portions; particularly upon the 4th, unless where it consists of two short syllables; upon the 9th, which is always a long syllable; and upon the 11th, where the line concludes with a monofyllable. Such conclusion, by the by, impairs the melody, and for that reason is not to be indulged unless where it is expressive of the senfe. The following lines are marked with all the accents.

Ludere quae vellem calamò permìsit agresti

Again:

Et durè quercus sudìbunt ròscida mella

Again:

Parturìunt montes, nascìtar ridiculus mus.

Reflecting upon the melody of hexameter verse, we find, that order or arrangement doth not constitute the whole of it: for when we compare different lines, equally regular as to the succession of long and short syllables, the melody is found in very different degrees of perfection; which is not occasioned by any particular combination of dactyls and spondees, or of long and short syllables, because we find lines where dactyls prevail, and lines where spondees prevail, equally melodious. Of the former take the following instance:

Æneadum genitrix hominum divumque voluptas.

Of the latter:

Molli paulatim flavescet campus arista.

What can be more different as to melody than the two following lines, which, however, as to the succession of long and short syllables, are constructed precisely in the same manner?

Spond. Dact. Spond. Spond. Dact. Spond.

Ad talos ìola dimilla et circumdata palla. Hor.

Spond. Dact. Spond. Spond. Dact. Spond.

Placatumque nitet diffuso lumine cœlum. Lucret.

In the former, the pause falls in the middle of a word, which is a great blemish, and the accent is disturbed by a harsh elision of the vowel a upon the particle et. In the latter, the pauses and the accents are all of them distinct and full; there is no elision: and the words are more liquid and founding. In these particulars consists the beauty of an hexameter line with respect to melody; and by neglecting these, many lines in the satires and epistles of Horace are less agreeable than plain prose; for they are neither the one nor the other in perfection. To draw melody from these lines, they must be pronounced without relation to the senfe: it must not be regarded that words are divided by pauses, nor that harsh elisions are multiplied. To add to the account, profaic low-founding words are introduced; and, which is still worse, accents are laid on them. Of such faulty lines take the following instances.

Candida rectaque fit, munda haëtens fit neque longa. Jupiter exclamat simul atque auditur; at in se Custodes, lectica, cinifiones, parasitæ Optimus est modulator, ut Alfenus Vafer omni Nunc illud tantum queram, meritone tibi fit.

These observations on pauses and semi-pauses, and on the structure of an hexameter line, are doubtless ingenious; but it is by no means certain that a strict attention to them would assist any man in the writing of such verses as would have been pleasing to a Roman ear. Many of his lordship's rules have no other foundation than what rests on our improper mode of accenting Latin words; which to Virgil or Lucretius would probably have been as offensive as the Scotch accent is to a native of Middlesex.

II. Next in order comes English heroic verse; which shall be examined under the heads of number, accent, quantity, movement, and pause. These have been treated in so clear and masterly a manner by Sheridan in his Art of Reading, that we shall have little more to do than abridge his doctrine, and point out the few instances in which attachment to a system and partiality to his native tongue seem to have betrayed him into error, or at least made him carry to an extreme what is just only when used with moderation.

"Numbers, in the strict sense of the word *, whether *Art of with regard to poetry or music, consist in certain impressions made on the ear at stated and regular distances. The lowest species of numbers is a double stroke of the same note or sound, repeated a certain number of times, at equal distances. The repetition of the same single note in a continued series, and exactly at equal distances, like the ticking of a clock, has in it nothing numerous; but the same note, twice struck a certain number of times, with a pause between each repetition of double the time of that between the strokes, is numerous. The reason is, that the pleasure arising from numbers, consists in the observation of proportion; now the repetition of the same note, in exactly the same intervals, will admit of no proportion. But the same note twice struck, with the pause of one between the two strokes, and repeated again at the distance of a pause equal to two, admits of the proportional measurement in the pauses of two to one, to which time can be beaten, and is the lowest and simplest species of numbers. It may be exemplified on the drum, as tu'm-tu'm-tu'm-tu'm-tu'm, &c.

"The next progression of numbers is, when the same note is repeated, but in such a way as that one makes a more sensible impression on the ear than the other, by being more forcibly struck, and therefore having a greater degree of loudness; as ti'tu'm-ti'tu'm; or, tu'm-ti'tu'm-ti'ti': or when two weak notes precede a more forcible one, as ti'ti'tu'm-ti'ti'tu'm; or when the weak notes follow the forcible one, tu'm-ti'ti'tu'm-ti'ti'.

"In the first and lowest species of numbers which we have mentioned, as the notes are exactly the same in every respect, there can be no proportion observed but in the time of the pauses. In the second, which rises in a degree just above the other, though the notes are still the same, yet there is a diversity to be observed in their respective loudness and softness, and therefore a measurable proportion of the quantity of sound. In them we must likewise take into consideration the order of the notes, whether they proceed from strong to weak, or from weak to strong; for this diversity of order occasions a great difference in the impressions made upon the ear, and in the effects produced upon the mind. To express the diversity of order in the notes in all its several kinds, the common term movement may be used, as the term measure will properly enough express the different proportions of time both in the pauses and in the notes."

For For it is to be observed, that all notes are not of the same length or on the same key. In poetry, as well as in music, notes may be high or low, flat or sharp; and some of them may be prolonged at pleasure. "Poetic numbers are indeed founded upon the very same principles with those of the musical kind, and are governed by similar laws (see Music)." Proportion and order are the sources of the pleasure which we receive from both; and the beauty of each depends upon a due observation of the laws of measure and movement. The essential difference between them is, that the matter of the one is articulate, that of the other inarticulate founds: but syllables in the one correspond to notes in the other; poet feet to musical bars; and verses to strains; in a word, they have all like properties, and are governed by laws of the same kind.

"From what has been said, it is evident, that the essence of numbers consists in certain impressions made on the mind through the ear at stated and regular distances of time, with an observation of a relative proportion in those distances; and that the other circumstances of long or short in syllables, or diversity of notes in uttering them, are not essentials but only accidents of poetic numbers. Should this be questioned, the objector might be silenced by having the experiment tried on a drum, on which, although it is incapable of producing long or short, high or low notes, there is no kind of metre which may not be beat. That, therefore, which regulates the series and movement of the impressions given to the ear by the recitation of an English verse, must, when properly disposed, constitute the essence of English poetic numbers; but it is the accent which particularly impresses the sound of certain syllables or letters upon the ear; for in every word there is a syllable or letter accented. The necessity and use of the accent, as well in prose as in verse, we shall therefore proceed to explain.

"As words may be formed of various numbers of syllables, from one up to eight or nine *, it was necessary that there should be some peculiar mark to distinguish words from disjointed syllables, otherwise speech would be nothing but a continued succession of syllables conveying no ideas. This distinction of one word from another might be made by a perceptible pause at the end of each in speaking, analogous to the distance made between them in writing and in printing. But these pauses would make discourse distantly tedious; and though they might render words sufficiently distinct, they would make the meaning of sentences extremely confused. Words might also be distinguished from each other, and from a collection of detached syllables, by an elevation or depression of the voice upon one syllable of each word; and this, as is well known to the learned, was the practice of the Greeks and Romans. But the English tongue has for this purpose adopted a mark of the easiest and simplest kind, which is called accent. By accent is meant, a certain stress of the voice, upon a particular letter of a syllable, which distinguishes it from the rest, and at the same time distinguishes the syllable itself to which it belongs from the other syllables which compose the word. Thus, in the word habitu, the accent upon the b distinguishes that letter from the others, and the first syllable from the last; add more syllables to it, and it will still do the same, as habituatable. In the word accep't, the p is the distinguished letter, and the syllable which contains it the distinguished syllable; but if we add more syllables to it, as in the word accep'table, the seat of the accent is changed to the first syllable, of which c is the distinguished letter. Every word in our language of more syllables than one has one of the syllables distinguished from the rest in this manner, and every monosyllable has a letter. Thus, in the word hat' the t is accented, in hate the vowel a', in cub' the b, and in cube the u': so that as articulation is the essence of syllables, accent is the essence of words; which without it would be nothing more than a mere succession of syllables."

We have said, that it was the practice of the Greeks and Romans to elevate or depress their voice upon one syllable of each word. In this elevation or depression consisted their accent; but the English accent consists in the mere stress of the voice, without any change of note. "Among the Greeks, all syllables were pronounced either in a high, low, or middle note; or else in a union of the high and low by means of the intermediate. The middle note, which was exactly at an equal distance between the high and the low, was that in which the unaccented syllables were pronounced. But every word had one letter, if a monosyllable; or one syllable, if it consisted of more than one, distinguished from the rest; either by a note of the voice perceptibly higher than the middle note, which was called the acute accent; or by a note perceptibly, and in an equal proportion, lower than the middle one, which was called the grave accent; or by an union of the acute and grave on one syllable, which was done by the voice pausing from the acute, through the middle note, in continuity down to the grave, which was called the circumflex."

"Now in pronouncing English words, it is true that one syllable is always distinguished from the rest; but it is not by any perceptible elevation or depression of the voice, any high or low note, that it is done, but merely by dwelling longer upon it, or by giving it a more forcible stroke. When the stress or accent is on the vowel, we dwell longer on that syllable than on the rest; as, in the words glory, father, holy. When it is on the consonant, the voice, pausing rapidly over the vowel, gives a smarter stroke to the consonant, which distinguishes that syllable from others, as in the words battle, habbit, borrow."

Having treated so largely of accent and quantity, the next thing to be considered in verse will be quickly discussed; for in English it depends wholly on the seat of the accent. "When the accent or stress is on the vowel, the syllable is necessarily long, because the accent cannot be made without dwelling on the vowel a longer time than usual. When it is on the consonant, the syllable is short; because the accent is made by pausing rapidly over the vowel, and giving a smart stroke of the voice to the following consonants. Thus the words ad'd, led', bid', cub', are all short, the voice pausing quickly over the vowel to the consonant; but for the contrary reason, the words all', laid', bide', cube', are long; the accent being on the vowels, on which the voice dwells some time before it takes in the sound of the consonant."

"Obvious as this point is, it has wholly escaped the observation of many an ingenious and learned writer. Lord Kames affirms *, that accenting is confined in English heroic verse to the long syllables; for a short..." And the shrill sounds ran echoing through the wood.

This line, though it consists of eleven syllables, and has the last of those accented, or, as Lord Kames would say, long, is yet undoubtedly a heroic verse of very fine sound. Perhaps the advocates for the rule may contend, that the vowel o in echoing ought to be struck out by an apostrophe; but as no one reads,

And the shrill sounds ran echoing through the wood, it is surely very absurd to omit in writing what cannot be omitted in utterance. The two following lines have each eleven syllables, of which not one can be suppressed in recitation.

Their glittering textures of the filmy dew, The great hierarchal standard was to move.

Mr Sheridan quotes as a heroic line,

O'er many a frozen, many a fiery Alp; and observes what a monstrous line it would appear, if pronounced,

O'er man' a frozen, man' a firy Alp, instead of that noble verse, which it certainly is, when all the thirteen syllables are distinctly uttered. He then produces a couplet, of which the former line has fourteen, and the latter twelve syllables.

And many an amorous, many a humorous lay, Which many a bard had chaunted many a day.

That this is a couplet of very fine sound cannot be controverted; but we doubt whether the numbers of it or of the other quoted line of thirteen syllables be truly heroic. To our ears at least there appears a very perceptible difference between the movement of these verses and that of the verses of Pope or Dryden; and we think, that, though such couplets or single lines may, for the sake of variety or expression, be admitted into a heroic poem, yet a poem wholly composed of them would not be considered as heroic verse. It has a much greater resemblance to the verse of Spenser, which is now broke into two lines, of which the first has eight and the second six syllables. Nothing, however, seems to be more evident, from the other quoted instances, than that a heroic line is not confined to the syllables, and that it is not by the number of syllables that an English verse is to be measured.

But if a heroic verse in our tongue be not composed, as in French, of a certain number of syllables, how is it formed? We answer by feet, as was the hexameter line of the ancients; though between their feet and ours there is at the same time a great difference. The poetic feet of the Greeks and Romans are formed by quantity, those of the English by stress or accent. "Though these terms are in continual use, and in the mouths of all who treat of poetical numbers, very confused and erroneous ideas are sometimes annexed to them. Yet as the knowledge of the peculiar genius of our language with regard to poetical numbers and its characteristic difference from others in that respect, depends upon our having clear and precise notions of those terms, it will be necessary to have them fully explained. The general nature of them has been already sufficiently laid open," No scholar is ignorant that quantity is a term which relates to the length or the shortness of syllables, and that a long syllable is double the length of a short one. Now the plain meaning of this is, that a long syllable takes up double the time in sounding that a short one does; a fact of which the ear alone can be the judge. When a syllable in Latin ends with a consonant, and the subsequent syllable commences with one, every school-boy knows that the former is long, to use the technical term, by the law of position. This rule was in pronunciation strictly observed by the Romans, who always made such syllables long by dwelling on the vowels; whereas the very reverse is the case with us, because a quite contrary rule takes place in English words so constructed, as the accent or stress of the voice is in such cases always transferred to the consonant, and the preceding vowel being rapidly passed over, that syllable is of course short.

The Romans had another rule of prosody, that when one syllable ending with a vowel, was followed by another beginning with a vowel, the former syllable was pronounced short; whereas in English there is generally an accent in that case on the former syllable, as in the word *pious*, which renders the syllable long. Pronouncing Latin therefore by our own rule, as in the former case, we make those syllables short which were founded long by them; so in the latter we make those syllables long which with them were short. We say *arma* and *verumque*, instead of *arma* and *verumque*; *icio* and *tuis*, instead of *icio* and *tuis*.

Having made these preliminary observations, we proceed now to explain the nature of poetic feet. Feet in verse correspond to bars in music: a certain number of syllables connected form a foot in the one, as a certain number of notes make a bar in the other. They are called feet, because it is by their aid that the voice as it were steps along through the verse in a measured pace; and it is necessary that the syllables which mark this regular movement of the voice should in some measure be distinguished from the others. This distinction, as we have already observed, was made among the ancient Romans, by dividing their syllables into long and short, and ascertaining their quantity by an exact proportion of time in sounding them; the long being to the short as two to one; and the long syllables, being thus the more important, marked the movement of the verse. In English, syllables are divided into accented and unaccented; and the accented syllables being as strongly distinguished from the unaccented, by the peculiar stress of the voice upon them, are as capable of marking the movement, and pointing out the regular paces of the voice, as the long syllables were by their quantity among the Romans. Hence it follows, that our accented syllables corresponding to their long ones, and our unaccented to their short, in the structure of poetic feet, an accented syllable followed by one unaccented in the same foot will answer to their trochee; and preceded by an unaccented one, to their iambus; and so with the rest.

All feet used in poetry consist either of two or three syllables; and the feet among the ancients were denominated from the number and quantity of their syllables. The measure of quantity was the short syllable, and the long one in time was equal to two short. A foot could not consist of less than two times, because it must contain at least two syllables; and by a law respecting numbers, which is explained elsewhere (see Music), a poetic foot would admit of no more than four of those times. Consequently the poetic feet were necessarily reduced to eight; four of two syllables, and four of three. Those of two syllables must either consist of two short, called a pyrrhic; two long, called a spondee; a long and a short, called a trochee; or a short and a long, called an iambus. Those of three syllables were, either three short, a tribrach; a long and two short, a dactyl; a short, long, and short, an amphibrach; or two short and a long, an anapest (1).

We are now sufficiently prepared for considering what feet enter into the composition of an English heroic verse.

The Greeks and Romans made use of but two feet in the structure of their hexameters; and the English heroic may be wholly composed of one foot, viz. the iambic, which is therefore the foot most congenial to that species of verse. Our poetry indeed abounds with verses into which no other foot is admitted. Such as,

The pow'rs | gave ear | and granted half | his pray'r, The rest | the winds | dispers'd | in empty air.

Our heroic line, however, is not wholly restrained to the use of this foot. In the opinion of Mr Sheridan it admits all the eight before enumerated; and it certainly excludes none, unless perhaps the tribrach. It is known to every reader of English poetry, that some of the finest heroic verses in our language begin with a trochee; and that Pope, the smoothest of all our versifiers, was remarkable for his use of this foot, as is evident from the following example, where four succeeding lines out of six have a trochaic beginning.

Her lively looks a frightly mind disclose, Quick as | her eyes | and as unfixed as thine: Favours | to none | to all the smiles extends, Oft the | rejects | but never once offends. Bright as | the sun | her eyes the gazers strike, And like the sun she shines on all alike.

---

(1) For the convenience of the less learned reader we shall here subjoin a scheme of poetic feet, using the marks (-o) in use among the Latin grammarians to denote the genuine feet by quantity; and the following marks ('o') to denote the English feet by accent, which answer to those.

| Roman | English | |-------|---------| | Trochee | - o | | Iambus | - o | | Spondee | - o | | Pyrrhic | - o | | Dactyl | - o | | Amphibrach | - o | | Anapest | - o | | Tribrach | - o | The use of this foot, however, is not necessarily confined to the beginning of a line. Milton frequently introduces it into other parts of the verse; of which take the following instances:

That all | was loft' | back' | to | the thick'let flunk— Of E've | whose ey'e | darted contâgious fire.

The last line of the following couplet begins with a pyrrhic:

She said, | and mëltling as in tears she lay, In a | soft silver stream diffoly'd away; But this foot is introduced likewise with very good effect into other parts of the verse, as Paint on | thy lip' | and to | thy heart | be prest.| The phantom flies me | as unkind as you. Leaps o'er the fence with ease | into | the fold. And the | shrill' sounds | ran echoing through the wood.

In this last line we see that the first foot is a pyrrhic, and the second a spondee; but in the next the two first feet are spondees.

Hills's peep | o'er hills's | and Alps | on Alps | arise.

In the following verse a trochee is succeeded by two spondees, of which the former is a genuine spondee by quantity, and the latter equivalent to a spondee by accent.

See the | bold youth | strain up' | the threat'ning steep.

We shall now give some instances of lines containing both the pyrrhic and the spondee, and then proceed to the consideration of the other four feet.

That on | weak wings | from far pursues your flight. Through the | fair scene | roll flow | the ling'ring streams. On her | white breast' | a sparkling cross she wore.

Of the four trisyllabic feet, the first, of which we shall give instances in heroic lines, is the dactyl; as

Murmuring, | and with | him' fled | the shades | of night. Hovering | on wing | under | the cage | of hell'. Timorous' | and slothful yet he pleas'd | the ear. Of truth | in word | mightier | than they | in arms.

Of the anapest a single instance shall suffice; for except by Milton it is not often used.

The great | hierarchal standard was to move.

The amphibrach is employed in the four following verses, and in the three last with a very fine effect.

With wheels | yet hovering o'er the ocean brim. Rous'd from their slumber on | that fit'ly | couch. While the | promis'cuous crowd stood yet aloof. Throws his steep flight | in many | in airy whirl.

Having thus sufficiently proved that the English heroic verse admits of all the feet except the tribrach, it may be proper to add, that from the nature of our accent we have duplicates of these feet, viz. such as are formed by quantity, and such as are formed by the mere tics of the voice; an opulence peculiar to our tongue, and which may be the source of a boundless variety. But as feet formed of syllables which have the accent or itus on the consonant are necessarily pronounced in less time than similar feet formed by quantity, it may be objected, that the measure of a whole line, constructed in the former manner, must be shorter than that of another line constructed in the latter; and that the intermixture of verses of such different measures in the same poem must have a bad effect on the melody, as being destructive of proportion. This objection would be well-founded, were not the time of the short accented syllables compensated by a small pause at the end of each word to which they belong, as is evident in the following verse:

Then rustling crack'ling crashing thun'lder down.

This line is formed of iambics by accent upon consonants, except the last syllable; and yet by means of these soft pauses or rests, the measure of the whole is equal to that of the following, which consists of pure iambics by quantity.

O'er heaps | of ruin stalk'd | the stately hind.

Movement, of so much importance in verification, regards the order of syllables in a foot, measure their quantity. The order of syllables respects their progress from short to long or from long to short, as in the Greek and Latin languages; or from strong to weak or weak to strong, i.e. from accented or unaccented syllables, as in our tongue. It has been already observed, that an English heroic verse may be composed wholly of iambics; and experience shows that such verses have a fine melody. But as the fires of the voice in repeating verses of pure iambics, is regularly on every second syllable, such uniformity would disgust the ear in any long succession, and therefore such changes were sought for as might introduce the pleasure of variety without prejudice to melody; or which might even contribute to its improvement. Of this nature was the introduction of the trochee to form the first foot of an heroic verse, which experience has shown us is so far from spoiling the melody, that in many cases it heightens it. This foot, however, cannot well be admitted into any other part of the verse without prejudice to the melody, because it interrupts and stops the usual movement by another directly opposite. But though it be excluded with regard to pure melody, it may often be admitted into any part of the verse with advantage to expression, as is well known to the readers of Milton.

"The next change admitted for the sake of variety, without prejudice to melody, is the intermixture of pyrrhics and spondees; in which two impressions in the one foot make up for the want of one in the other; and two long syllables compensate two short, so as to make the sum of the quantity of the two feet equal to two iambics. That this may be done without prejudice to the melody, take the following instances:

On her | white breast' | a sparkling cross she wore.— Nor the | deep tract | of hell.—say first what cause.

This intermixture may be employed ad libitum, in any part of the line; and sometimes two spondees may be placed together in one part of the verse, to be compensated by two pyrrhics in another; of which Mr Sheridan quotes the following lines as instances:

Stood rul'd | stood vast' | infin'itide | confined. She all | night long | her am'rous descent sung.

That the former is a proper example, will not perhaps be questioned; but the third foot in the latter is certain- Part III.

Verificably no pyrrhic. As it is marked here and by him, it is a tribrach; but we appeal to our English readers, if it ought not to have been marked an amphibrach by accent, and if the fourth foot be not an iambus. To us the feet of the line appear to be as follow:

She all | night long | her amorous delighting fun'g.

It is indeed a better example of the proper use of the amphibrach than any which he has given, unless perhaps the two following lines:

Up to | the fiery concave towering high Throws his | steep flight | in many airy whirl.

That in these three lines the introduction of the amphibrach does not hurt the melody, will be acknowledged by every person who has an ear; and those who have not, are not qualified to judge. But we appeal to every man of taste, if the two amphibrachs succeeding each other in the last line do not add much to the expression of the verse. If this be questioned, we have only to change the movement to the common iambic, and we shall discover how feeble the line will become.

Throws his | steep flight | in many airy whirls.

This is simple description, instead of that magical power of numbers which to the imagination produces the object itself, whirling as it were round an axis.

Having thus shown that the iambus, spondees, pyrrhics, and amphibrach, by accent, may be used in our measure with great latitude; and that the trochee may at all times begin the line, and in some cases with advantage to the melody; it now remains only to add, that the dactyl, having the same movement, may be introduced in the place of the trochee; and the anapest in the place of the iambus. In proof of this, were not the article swelling in our hands, we could adduce many instances which would show what an inexhaustible fund of riches, and what an immense variety of materials, are prepared for us, "to build the lofty rhyme." But we hasten to the next thing to be considered in the art of verifying, which is known by the name of pauses.

Of the poetic pauses there are two sorts, the cefural and the final. The cefural divides the verse into equal or unequal parts; the final closes it. In a verse there may be two or more cefural pauses, but it is evident that there can be but one final. As the final pause concerns the reader more than the writer of verses, it has been seldom treated of by the critics. Yet as it is this final pause which in many cases distinguishes verse from prose, it cannot be improper in the present article to show how it ought to be made. Were it indeed a law of our verification, that every line should terminate with a stop in the sentence, the boundaries of the measure would be fixed, and the nature of the final pause could not be mistaken. But nothing has puzzled the bulk of readers, or divided their opinions, more than the manner in which those verses ought to be recited, where the sentence does not close with the line; and whose last words have a necessary connection with those that begin the subsequent verse. "Some (says Mr. Sheridan) who see the necessity of pointing out the metre, pronounce the last word of each line in such a note as usually accompanies a comma, in marking the smallest member of a sentence. Now this is certainly improper, because it makes that appear to be a complete member of a sentence which is an incomplete one; and by disjoining the sentence as well as the words, often confounds the meaning. Others again, but these fewer in number, and of the more absurd kind, drop their voice at the end of every line, in the same note which they use in marking a full stop; to the utter annihilation of the sentence. Some readers (continues our author) of a more enthusiastic kind, elevate their voices at the end of all verses to a higher note than is ever used in the stops which divide the meaning. But such a continued repetition of the same high note becomes disagreeing by its monotony, and gives an air of chanting to such recitation. To avoid these several faults, the bulk of readers have chosen what they think a safer course, which is that of running the lines one into another without the least pause, where they find none in the sentence; but by this mode of recitation they reduce poetry to something worse than prose, to verse run mad.

But it may be asked, if this final pause must be marked neither by an elevation nor by a depression of the voice, how is it to be marked at all? To which Mr. Sheridan replies, by making no change whatever in the voice before it. This will sufficiently distinguish it from the other pauses, the comma, semicolon, &c., because some change of note, by raising or depressing the voice, always precedes them, whilst the voice is here only suspended.

Now this pause of suspension is the very thing wanting to preserve the melody at all times, without interfering with the sentence. For it perfectly marks the bound of the metre; and being made only by a suspension, not by a change of note in the voice, it never can affect the sentence; because the fentential stops, or those which affect the sentence, being all made with a change of note, where there is no such change the sentence cannot be affected. Nor is this the only advantage gained to numbers by this stop of suspension. It also prevents the monotony at the end of lines; which, however pleasing to a rude, is disagreeing to a delicate ear. For as this stop has no peculiar note of its own, but always takes that which belongs to the preceding word, it changes continually with the matter, and is as various as the sentence.

Having said all that is necessary with regard to the final, we proceed now to consider the cefural pause. To these two pauses it will be proper to give the denomination of musical, to distinguish them from the comma, semicolon, colon, and full stop, which may be called fentential pauses; the office of the former being to mark the melody, as that of the latter is to point out the sentence. The cefural, like the final pause, sometimes coincides with the fentential; and sometimes takes place where there is no stop in the sentence. In this last case, it is exactly of the same nature, and governed by the same laws with the pause of suspension, which we have just described.

The cefural, though not essential, is however a great ornament to verse, as it improves and diversifies the melody, by a judicious management in varying its situation; but it discharges a still more important office than this. Were there no cefural, verse could aspire to no higher ornament than that of simple melody; but by means of this pause there is a new source of delight opened in poetic numbers, correspondent in some sort to harmony in music. This takes its rise from that act of the mind which compares the relative proportions that the members of a verse thus divided bear to each other, as well as to those in the adjoining lines. In order to see this matter in a clear light, let us examine what effect the cæsura produces in single lines, and afterwards in comparing contiguous lines with each other.

With regard to the place of the cæsura, Mr Pope and others have expressly declared, that no line appeared musical to their ears, where the cæsura was not after the fourth, fifth, or sixth syllable of the verse. Some have enlarged its empire to the third and seventh syllables; whilst others have asserted that it may be admitted into any part of the line.

"There needs but a little distinguishing (says Mr Sheridan), to reconcile these different opinions. If melody alone is to be considered, Mr Pope is in the right when he fixes its seat in or as near as may be to the middle of the verse. To form lines of the first melody, the cæsura must either be at the end of the second or of the third foot, or in the middle of the third between the two. Of this movement take the following examples:

1. Of the cæsura at the end of the second foot.

Our plenteous streams || a various race supply; The bright-eyed perch || with fins of Tyrian dye; The silver eel || in shining volumes roll'd; The yellow carp' || in scales bedrop'd with gold.

2. At the end of the third foot.

With tender billet-doux || he lights the pyre, And breathes three amorous sighs || to raise the fire.

3. Between the two, dividing the third foot.

The fields are ravish'd || from the industrious swine, From men their cities, || and from gods their fans.

These lines are certainly all of a fine melody, yet they are not quite upon an equality in that respect. Those which have the cæsura in the middle are of the first order; those which have it at the end of the second foot are next; and those which have the pause at the end of the third foot the last. The reason of this preference it may not perhaps be difficult to assign.

In the pleasure arising from comparing the proportion which the parts of a whole bear to each other, the more easily and distinctly the mind perceives that proportion, the greater is the pleasure. Now there is nothing which the mind more instantaneously and clearly discerns, than the division of a whole into two equal parts, which alone would give a superiority to lines of the first order over those of the other two. But this is not the only claim to superiority which such lines possess. The cæsura being in them always on an unaccented, and the final pause on an accented syllable, they have a mixture of variety and equality of which neither of the other orders can boast, as in these orders the cæsural and final pauses are both on accented syllables.

In the division of the other two species, if we respect quantity only, the proportion is exactly the same, the one being as two to three, and the other as three to two; but it is the order or movement which here makes the difference. In lines where the cæsura bounds the second foot, the smaller portion of the verse is first in order, the greater last; and this order is reversed in lines which have the cæsura at the end of the third foot. Now, as the latter part of the verse leaves the strongest and most lasting impression on the ear, where the larger portion belongs to the latter part of the line, the impression must in proportion be greater; the effect in found being the same as that produced by a climax in senile, where one part rises above another.

Having shown in what manner the cæsura improves and diversifies the melody of verse, we shall now treat of its more important office, by which it is the chief source of harmony in numbers. But, first, it will be necessary to explain what we mean by the term harmony, as applied to verse.

Melody in music regards only the effects produced by successive sounds; and harmony, strictly speaking, the effects produced by different co-existing sounds, which are found to be in concord. Harmony, therefore, in this sense of the word, can never be applied to poetic numbers, of which there can be only one reciter, and consequently the sounds can only be in succession. When therefore we speak of the harmony of verse, we mean nothing more than an effect produced by an action of the mind in comparing the different members of verse already constructed according to the laws of melody with each other, and perceiving a due and beautiful proportion between them.

The first and lowest perception of this kind of harmony arises from comparing two members of the same line with each other, divided in the manner to be seen in the three instances already given; because the beauty of proportion in the members, according to each of these divisions, is founded in nature. But there is a perception of harmony in versification, which arises from the comparison of two lines, and observing the relative proportion of their members; whether they correspond exactly to each other by similar divisions, as in the couplets already quoted; or whether they are diversified by cæsuras in different places. As,

See the bold youth || strain up the threatening sleep, Rush thro' the thickets || down the valleys sweep.

Where we find the cæsura at the end of the second foot of the first line, and in the middle of the third foot of the last.

Hang o'er their couriers heads || with eager speed, And earth rolls back || beneath the flying fleed.

Here the cæsura is at the end of the third foot in the former, and of the second in the latter line.—The perception of this species of harmony is far superior to the former; because, to the pleasure of comparing the members of the same line with each other, there is superadded that of comparing the different members of the different lines with each other; and the harmony is enriched by having four members of comparison instead of two. The pleasure is still increased in comparing a greater number of lines, and observing the relative proportion of the couplets to each other in point of similarity and diversity. As thus,

Thy forests, Windsor, || and thy green retreats, At once the monarch's || and the mule's feats, Invite my lays, || Be present fylvan maids, Unlock your springs || and open all your shades.

Here we find that the cæsura is in the middle of the verse in each line of the first couplet, and at the end of the the second foot in each line of the last; which gives a similarity in each couplet distinctly considered, and a diversity when the one is compared with the other, that has a very pleasing effect. Nor is the pleasure less where we find a diversity in the lines of each couplet, and a similarity in comparing the couplets themselves. As in these,

Not half so swift || the trembling doves can fly, When the fierce eagle || cleaves the liquid sky; Not half so swiftly || the fierce eagle moves, When thro' the clouds || he drives the trembling doves.

There is another mode of dividing lines well suited to the nature of the couplet, by introducing feminauses, which with the cæsura divide the line into four portions. By a feminause, we mean a small rift of the voice, during a portion of time equal to half of that taken up by the cæsura; as will be perceived in the following fine couplet:

Warms | in the sun || refreshes | in the breeze, Glows | in the flars || and blossoms | in the trees.

That the harmony, and of course the pleasure, resulting from poetic numbers, is increased as well by the feminause as by the cæsura, is obvious to every ear; because lines so constructed furnish a greater number of members for comparison: but it is of more importance to observe, that by means of the feminauses, lines which, separately considered, are not of the finest harmony, may yet produce it when opposed to each other, and compared in the couplet. Of the truth of this observation, the following couplet, especially as it succeeds that immediately quoted, is a striking proof:

Lives | thro' all life || extends | thro' all extent, Spreads | undivided || operates | unspent.

What we have advanced upon this species of verse, will contribute to solve a poetical problem thrown out by Dryden as a crux to his brethren: it was to account for the peculiar beauty of that celebrated couplet in Sir John Denham's Cooper's Hill, where he thus describes the Thames:

Tho' deep | yet clear || tho' gentle | yet not dull. Strong | without rage || without o'erflowing | full.

This description has great merit independent of the harmony of the numbers; but the chief beauty of the verification lies in the happy disposition of the pauses and feminauses, so as to make a fine harmony in each line when its portions are compared, and in the couplet when one line is compared with the other.

Having now said all that is necessary upon pauses and feminauses, we have done the utmost justice to our subject which the limits assigned us will permit. Feet and pauses are the constituent parts of verse; and the proper adjustment of them depends upon the poet's knowledge of numbers, accent, quantity, and movement, all of which we have endeavoured briefly to explain. In conformity to the practice of some critics, we might have treated separately of rhyme and of blank verse; but as the essentials of all heroic verses are the same, such a division of our subject would have thrown no light upon the art of English verification. It may be just worth while to observe, that the pause at the end of a couplet ought to coincide, if possible, with a flight pause in the sentence, and that there is no necessity for this coincidence of pauses at the end of any particular blank verse. We might likewise compare our heroic line with the ancient hexameter, and endeavour to appreciate their respective merits; but there is not a reader capable of attending to such a comparison who will not judge for himself; and it may perhaps be questioned, whether there be two who will form precisely the same judgment. Mr Sheridan, and all the mere English critics, give a high degree of preference to our heroic, on account of the vast variety of feet which it admits: whilst the readers of Greek and Latin poetry prefer the hexameter, on account of its more musical notes and majestic length.