other of the syllables, the melody of the verse is much changed, its air and cadence are diversified. By this means, uncommon richness and variety are added to English versification. When the pause falls earliest, that is, after the 4th syllable, the briskest melody is thereby formed, and the most spirited air given to the line. In the following lines of the Rape of the Lock, Mr. Pope has, with exquisite propriety, suited the construction of the verse to the subject. On her white breast a sparkling cross she wore, When the pause falls after the 5th syllable which divides the line into two equal portions, the melody is sensibly altered. The verse loses that brisk and sprightly air, which it had with the former pause, and becomes more smooth, gentle, and flowing. Eternal sunshine | of the spotless mind, Each prayer accepted and each wish resign'd. When the pause proceeds to follow the 6th syllable, the tenor of the music becomes solemn and grave. The verse marches now with a more slow and measured pace, than in either of the two former cases. The wrath of Peleus' son | the direful spring But the grave, solemn cadence becomes still more sensible, when the pause falls after the 7th syllable, which is the nearest place to the end of the line that it can occupy. This kind of verse occurs the seldomest, but has a happy effect in diversifying the melody. It produces that slow Alexandrian air which is finely suited to a close; and for this reason, such lines almost never occur together, but are used in finishing the couplet. And in the smooth description | murmur still, I have taken my examples from verses in rhyme; because in these, our versification is subjected to the strictest law. As blank verse is of a freer kind, and naturally is read with less cadence or tone, the pauses in it, and the effect of them, are not always so sensible to the ear. It is constructed, however, entirely upon the same principles with respect to the place of the pause. There are some, who, in order to exalt the variety and the power of our heroic verse, have maintained that it admits of musical pauses, not only after those four syllables, where I assigned their place, but after any one syllable in the verse indifferently, where the sense directs it to be placed. This, in my opinion, is the same thing as to maintain that there is no pause at all belonging to the natural melody of the verse; since, according to this notion, the pause is formed entirely to the meaning not by the music. But this I apprehend to be contrary both to the nature of versification, and to the experience of every good ear.* In the Italian heroic verse, employed by Tasso in his Gierusalemme, and Ariosto in his Orlando, the pauses are of the same varied nature with those which I have shewn to belong to English versification, and fall after the same four syllables in the line. Marmontel, in his Poëtique Francoise, vol. i. p. 269, takes notice, that this construction of verse is common to the Italians and the English; and defends the unifor mity of the French cæsural pause upon this ground, that the alternation of masculine. Ссс Those certainly are the happiest lines, wherein the pause, prompted by the melody, coincides in some degree with that of the sense, or at least does not tend to spoil or interrupt the meaning. Wherever any opposi tion between the music and the sense chances to take place, I observed before, in treating of pronunciation or delivery, that the proper method of reading these lines, is to read them according as the sense dictates, neglecting or slurring the cæsural pause; which renders the line less graceful indeed, but, however, does not entirely destroy its sound. Our blank verse possesses great advantages, and is indeed a noble, bold, and disencumbered species of versification. The principal defect in rhyme, is the full close which it forces upon the ear, at the end of every couplet. Blank verse is freed from this; and allows the lines to run into each other with as great liberty as the Latin hexameter permits, perhaps with greater. Hence it is particularly suited to subjects of dignity and force, which demand more free and manly numbers than rhyme. The constraint and strict regularity of rhyme are unfavourable to the sublime, or to the highly pathetic strain. An epic poem, or a tragedy, would be fettered and degraded by it. It is best adapted to compositions of a temperate strain, where no particular vehemence is required in the sentiments, nor great sublimity in the style; such as pastorals, elegies, epistles, satires, &c. To these it communicates that degree of elevation which is proper for them; and without any other assistance sufficiently distinguishes the style from prose. He who should write such poems in blank verse, would render his work harsh and unpleasing In order to support a poetical style, he would be obliged to effect a pomp of language unsuitable to the subject. Though I join in opinion with those, who think that rhyme finds its proper place in the middle, but not in the higher regions of poetry, I can by no means join in the invectives which some have poured out against it, as if it were a mere barbarous jingling of sounds, fit only for children, and owing to nothing but the corruption of taste in the monkish ages. Rhyme might indeed be barbarous in Latin and Greek verse, because these languages, by the sonorousness of their words, by their liberty of transposition and inversion, by their fixed quantities and musical pronunciation, could carry on the melody of verse without its aid. But it does not follow, that therefore it must be barbarous in the English language, which is destitute of these advantages. Every language has powers and graces, and music peculiar to itself; and what is becoming in one, would be ridiculous in another. Rhyme was barbarous in Latin: and an attempt to construct English verses, after the form of hexameters, and pentameters, and sapphics, is as barbarous among us. It is not true, that rhyme is merely a monkish invention. On the contrary, it has obtained under different forms, in the versification of most known nations. It is found in the ancient poetry of the northern nations of Europe; it is said to be found among the Arabs, the Persians, the Indians and the Americans. This shews that there is something in the return of similar sounds, which is grateful to the ears of most part of mankind. And if any one, after reading Mr. Pope's Rape of the Lock, or Eloisa to Abelard, shall not admit our rhyme, with all its varieties of pauses, to carry both and feminine rhymes furnishes sufficient variety to the French poetry; whereas the change of movement occasioned by the four different pauses in English and Italian verse, produces, according to him, too great diversity. On the head of pauses in Eng lish versification, see the Elements of Criticism, chap. 18. sect. 4. elegance and sweetness of sound, his ear must be pronounced to be of a very peculiar kind. The present form of our English heroic rhyme in couplets, is a modern species of versification. The measure generally used in the days of Queen Elizabeth, King James, and King Charles I. was the stanza of eight lines, such as Spencer employs, borrowed from the Italian; a measure very constrained and artificial. Waller was the first who brought couplets into vogue; and Dryden afterwards established the usage. Waller first smoothed our verse; Dryden perfected it. Mr. Pope's versification has a peculiar character. It is flowing and smooth in the highest degree; far more laboured and correct than that of any who went before him. He introduced one considerable change into heroic verse, by totally throwing aside the triplets, or three lines rhyming together, in which Mr. Dryden abounded. Dryden's versification, however, has very great merit; and, like all his productions, has much spirit, mixed with carelessness. If not so smooth and correct as Pope's, it is however more varied and easy. He subjects himself less to the rule of closing the sense with the couplet; and frequently takes the liberty of making his couplets run into one another, with somewhat of the freedom of blank verse. LECTURE XXXIX. PASTORAL POETRY....LYRIC POETRY. IN the last lecture, I gave an account of the rise and progress of poetry, and made some observations on the nature of English versification. I now proceed to treat of the chief kinds of poetical composition; and of the critical rules that relate to them. I shall follow that order which is most simple and natural; beginning with the lesser forms of poetry, and ascending from them to the epic and dramatic, as the most dignified. This lecture shall be employed on pastoral and lyric poetry. Though I begin with the consideration of pastoral poetry, it is not because I consider it as one of the earliest forms of poetical composi tion. On the contrary, I am of opinion that it was not cultivated as a distinct species, or subject of writing, until society had advanced in refinement. Most authors have indeed indulged the fancy, that because the life which mankind at first led was rural, therefore, their first poetry was pastoral, or employed in the celebration of rural scenes and objects. I make no doubt, that it would borrow many of its images and allusions from those natural objects with which men were best acquainted; but I make as little doubt, that the calm and tranquil scenes of rural felicity were not, by any means, the first objects which inspired that strain of composition, which we now call poetry. It was inspired, in the first periods of every nation, by events and objects which roused men's passions; or, at least, awakened their wonder and admiration. The actions of their gods and heroes, their own exploits in war, the successes or misfortunes of their countrymen and friends, furnished the first themes to the bards of every country. What was of a pastoral kind in their compositions, was incidental only. They did not think of choosing for their theme the tranquillity and the pleasures of the country, as long as these were daily and familiar objects to them. It was not tili men had begun to be assembled in great cities, after the distinctions of rank and stations were formed, and the bustle of courts and large societies was known, that pastoral poetry assumed its present form. Men that began to look back upon the more simple and innocent life which their forefathers led, or which, at least, they fancied them to have led: they looked back upon it with pleasure, and in those rural scenes, and pastoral occupations, imagining a degree of felicity to take place, superior to what they now enjoyed, conceived the idea of celebrating it in poetry. It was in the court of King Ptolemy, that Theocritus wrote the first pastorals with which we are acquainted; and, in the court of Augustus, he was imitated by Virgil. But whatever may have been the origin of pastoral poetry, it is undoubtedly, a natural and very agreeable form of poetical composition. It recalls to our imagination those gay scenes, and pleasing views of nature, which commonly are the delight of our childhood and youth; and to which, in more advanced years, the greatest part of men recur with pleasure. It exhibits to us a life, with which we are accustomed to associate the ideas of peace, of leisure, and of innocence; and, there fore, we readily set open our heart to such representations as promise to banish from our thoughts the cares of the world; and to transport us into calm elysian regions. At the same time, no subject bids fairer for being favourable to poetry. Amidst rural objects, nature presents on all hands, the finest field for description; and nothing appears to flow more, of its own accord, into poetical numbers, than rivers and mountains, meadows and hills, flocks and trees, shepherds void of care. Hence, this species of poetry has, at all times, allured many readers, and excited many writers. But, notwithstanding the advantages it possesses, it will appear from what I have farther to observe upon it, that there is hardly any species of poetry which is more difficult to be carried to perfection, or in which fewer writers have excelled. Pastoral life may be considered in three different views; either such as it now actually is, when the state of shepherds is reduced to be a mean, servile, and laborious state; when their employments are become disagreeable, and their ideas gross and low: or such as we may suppose it once to have been, in the more early and simple ages, when it was a life of ease and abundance; when the wealth of men consisted chiefly in flocks, and herds, and the shepherd, though unrefined in his manners, was respectable in his state; or lastly, such as it never was, and never can in reality be, when, to the ease, innocence, and simplicity of the early ages, we attempt to add the polished taste, and culti vated manners, of modern times. Of these three states, the first is too gross and mean, the last too refined and unnatural, to be made the ground-work of pastoral poetry. Either of these extremes is a rock upon which the poet will split, if he approach too near it. We shall be disgusted if he gives us too much of the servile employments, and low ideas of actual peasants, as Theocritus is censured for having sometimes done and if, like some of the French and Italian writers of pastorals, he makes his shepherds discourse as if they were courtiers and, scholars, he then retains the name only, but wants the spirit of pastoral poetry. He must, therefore, keep in the middle station between these. He 389 must form to himself the idea of a rural state, such as in certain periods of society may have actually taken place, where there was ease, equality, and innocence; where shepherds were gay and agreeable, without being learned or refined; and plain and artless, without being gross and wretched. The great charm of pastoral poetry arises, from the view which it exhibits of the tranquillity and happiness of a rural life. This pleasing allusion, therefore, the poet must carefully maintain. He must display to us, all that is agreeable in that state, but hide whatever is displeasing.* Let him paint its simplicity and innocence to the full ; but cover its rudeness and misery. Distresses, indeed, and anxieties he may attribute to it; for it would be perfectly unnatural to suppose any condition of human life to be without them; but they must be of such a nature, as not to shock the fancy with any thing peculiarly disgusting in the pastoral life. The shepherd may well be afflicted for the displeasure of his mistress, or for the loss of a favourite lamb. It is a sufficient recommendation of any state, to have only such evils as these to deplore. In short, it is the pastoral life somewhat embellished and beautified, at least, seen on its fairest side only, that the poet ought to present to us. But let him take care, that, in embellishing nature, he does not altogether disguise her; or pretend to join with rural simplicity and happiness, such improvements as are unnatural and foreign to it. If it be not exactly real life which he presents to us, it must, however, be somewhat that resembles it. This, in my opinion, is the general idea of pastoral poetry. But, in order to examine it more particularly, let us consider, first, the scenery; next, the characters; and, lastly, the subjects and actions, which this sort of composition should exhibit. As to the scene, it is clear, that it must always be laid in the country, and much of the poet's merit depends on describing it beautifully. Virgil is, in this respect, excelled by Theocritus, whose descriptions of natural beauties are richer, and more picturesque than those of the other.† In every pastoral, a scene, or rural prospect, should be distinctly drawn, *In the following beautiful lines of the first Eclogue, Virgil has, in the true spirit of a pastoral poet, brought together as agreeable an assemblage of images of rural pleasure as can any where be found: Fortunate senex! hic inter flumina nota, - Happy old man! here mid th' accustom'd streams While from steep rocks the pruner's song is heard; Meanwhile shall cease to breathe her melting strain, Nor turtles from th' aerial elms to 'plain. WARTON. What rural scenery, for instance, can be painted, in more lively colours, than thế following description exhibits › ἔν τε βαθείαις Αδείας σχίνοιο χαμεύνεσιν ἐκλειθημες Ἔν τε νεοτμάτοισι γεγαθότες διναρέοισι. Πολλαί δ ̓ ἄμμιν ύπερθε κατα κρατὸς δονεόντος |