Athens had been in possession of all other polite improvements long before her pretensions to the persuasive arts were in any degree considerable; and the earliest orator of note among the Romans did not appear sooner than about a century before Cicero. That great master of persuasion, taking notice of this remarkable circumstance, assigns it as an evidence of the superior difficulty of his favourite art. There may be some truth in the observation; but whatever the cause may have been, the fact is undeniable. Accordingly eloquence has by no means made advances in our own country equal to those of the sister arts; and though we have seen many excellent poets, and a few good painters, arise among us, yet our nation can boast of very few accomplished orators. This circumstance will appear more surprising, when it is considered that we have a profession set apart for the purposes of persuasion; a profession which is conversant with the most animating topics of rhetoric.

Among the principal defects of our British orators, their general disregard of harmony has been least observed. It would indeed be unjust to deny that we have some specimens of oratory that are tolerably musical; but it must be acknowledged that, for the most part, this is more the effect of accident than design.

There are two circumstances on which the music of a sentence chiefly depends; the proper distribution of its several members, and the close or cadence of the whole.

Whatever is easy and agreeable in the pronunciation has always a grateful sound to the ear; and that which is difficult in the pronunciation, can never be possessed of melody. The facility with which any sentence is recited, must in a great measure depend upon the proper disposition of the pauses. They ought to be so distributed as to render the course of the breathing easy, and at the same time should fall at such distances as to bear a certain musical proportion to each other. This rule will be best illustrated by examples.

This discourse concerning the easiness of God's commands, does, all along, suppose and acknowledge the difficulties of the first entrance upon a religious course; except only in those persons who have had the happiness to be trained up to religion by the easy and insensible degrees of a pious and virtuous education.-Tillotson's Sermons.

This sentence is in some degree harsh and unpleasant; it contains no more than one considerable pause, which falls between the two members; and each of those members is so long, as to occasion a difficulty in breathing while it is pronounced. The following are instances of a different kind.

By smoothing those inequalities, which the necessary difference of ranks and conditions has introduced into society, she not only reconciles us to the highest eminences of life, but leads us to consider them as affording to the social world, that sublime contrast which the landscape derives from the diversity of hill and dale, and as sending down those streams of benignity which refresh and gladden the lower stations.-Brown's Sermons.

When thine aching eye shall look forward to the end that is far distant; and when behind thou shalt find no retreat; when thy steps shall falter, and thou shalt tremble at the depth beneath which thought itself is not able to fathom; then shall the angel of retribution lift his inexorable hand against thee; from the irremeable way shall thy feet be smitten; thou shalt plunge in the burning flood, and though thou shalt live for ever, thou shalt rise no more.Hawkesworth's Almoran and Hamet.

Porticoes, which had withstood the assaults of time more than two thousand years; broken columns of different lengths, rising at a considerable distance within the limits of the same pile; sculptured portals, through whose frowning arches the winds passed with a hollow murmuring; numberless figures engraven on the pilasters of those portals; and multitudes of hieroglyphics on the different parts of the spacious ruin; gave the travellers a mournful and magnificent idea of the pristine grandeur of this edifice.-Langhorne's Solyman and Almena.

Here everything is flowing and easy. The members of the sentences bear a just proportion to each other; and the reader therefore never experiences any difficulty of breathing.

The next subject which claims our attention is, the close or cadence of the whole sentence, which, as it is always the part most sensible to the ear, demands the greatest care. Upon it the mind pauses and rests; it

ought therefore to contain nothing harsh or abrupt. When we aim at dignity or elevation, the sound should be made to swell gradually to the end; the longest members of the period, and the fullest and most sonorous words, should be reserved for the conclusion. The following sentence is constructed in this manner.

It fills the mind with the largest variety of ideas, converses with its objects at the greatest distance; and continues the longest in action, without being tired or satiated with its proper enjoyments.Addison, Spectator.

Here every reader must be sensible of a beauty, both in the division of the members and pauses, and the manner in which the sentence is rounded, and conducted to a full and harmonious close. "Mr. Addison's period, and members of periods," says Mitford, "mostly end with the unaccented hyperrhythmical syllable, and scarcely ever with a strong accent, except where emphasis gives importance to such a conclusion. The graceful flow so much admired in his writings, is not a little owing to this circumstance. His language seems always united like water, by the aptitude of its parts to coalesce, and never wears the appearance of being forcibly held together."

A falling off towards the end always produces a disagreeable effect. For this reason, pronouns and prepositions are as unpleasant to the ear, as they are inconsistent with strength of expression. The sense and the sound seem to have a mutual influence on each other; that which offends the ear is apt to mar the strength of the meaning; and that which really degrades the sense appears also to have a bad sound. It may be affirmed in general that a musical close, in our language, requires either the last, or the last but one, to be a long syllable.

It is, however, necessary to observe that sentences so constructed as to make the sound always swell towards the end, and to rest upon syllables of a certain description, give a discourse the tone of declamation: the ear soon becomes acquainted with the melody,

and is apt to be cloyed with monotony. If we would keep alive the attention of the reader or hearer, if we would preserve vivacity and strength in our composition, we must be solicitous to vary our rhythms. This observation regards the distribution of the members, as well as the cadence of the period. Sentences constructed in a similar manner, with the pauses falling at equal intervals, should never follow one upon another. Even an unmusical ear will enable an author to catch some kind of melody, and to form all his sentences according to it; but this oft-recurring modulation will soon produce satiety and disgust. A just and correct ear is requisite for diversifying the melody; and hence we so seldom meet with authors remarkably happy in this respect.

Though the music of sentences demands a very considerable degree of attention, yet this attention must be confined within moderate bounds. Every appearance of affectation of harmony is disagreeable; especially if the love of it lead us so far as to sacrifice perspicuity, precision, or strength of sentiment, to sound. All unmeaning words, introduced merely to round the period, or complete the melody, are great blemishes in writing they are childish ornaments, by which a sentence always loses more in point of significancy, than it can gain in point of melody. After all the labour bestowed by Quinctilian on regulating the measures of prose, he comes at last, with his usual good sense, to this conclusion: "Upon the whole, I would rather choose that composition should appear rough and harsh, if that be necessary, than that it should be enervated and effeminate, such as we find in the style of too many. Some sentences therefore which we have studiously formed into melody, should be thrown loose, that they may not seem too much laboured; nor ought we ever to omit any proper or expressive word, for the sake of smoothing a period."*

Hitherto our attention has been directed to agreeable

* Quinctilian de Institut. Orator. lib. ix. cap. iv.

sound, or modulation in general. It yet remains to treat of a higher beauty, the adaptation of the sound to the sense. This beauty may be attained in either prose or verse; but in illustrating its general principles, the writings of the poets will furnish us with the most copious and striking illustrations.

The resemblance of poetical numbers to the subject which they mention or describe, may be considered as general or particular, as consisting in the flow and structure of a whole passage taken together, or as comprised in the sound of some emphatical and descriptive words, or in the cadence and harmony of single verses.

A general analogy between the sound and the sense is to be found in every language which admits of poetry, in every author whose fancy enables him to impress images strongly on his own mind, and whose choice and variety of language readily supply him with the means of giving expression to them. To such a writer it is natural to change his measure with his subject, Even without any effort of the understanding, or intervention of the judgment. The thought of jollity and mirth necessarily tunes the voice of a poet to gay and sprightly notes, as it fires his eye with vivacity; and reflections on gloomy situations and disastrous events, will sadden his numbers as it will cloud his countenance. But in such passages, there is only the similitude of pleasure to pleasure, and of grief to grief, without any immediate application of particular images. The same flow of joyous versification will celebrate the jollity of marriage, and the exultation of triumph; and the same languor of melody will suit the complaint of an absent lover, and the lamentations of a conquered king.

It is scarcely to be doubted that on many occasions we ourselves produce the music which we imagine we hear; that we modulate the poem by our own disposition, and ascribe to the numbers the effects of the sense. We may observe in real life that it is not easy to deliver a pleasing message in an unpleasing manner, and that we readily associate beauty and deformity with those. whom we have reason to love or hate. Yet it would be