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In this strain all their verses proceed; the one half of the line always answering to the other, and the same chime returning incessantly on the ear without intermission or change; which is certainly a defect in their verse, and unfits it so very much for the freedom and dignity of heroic poetry. On the other hand, it is a distinguishing advantage of our English verse, that it allows the pause to be varied through four different syllables in the line. The pause may fall after the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, or the seventh syllable; and according as the pause is placed after one or other of these 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 fourth 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,
Which Jews might kiss and infidels adore;
Her lively looks | a sprightly mind disclose,
Quick as her eyes and as unfix'd as those.
Favours to none | to all she smiles extends,
Oft she rejects | but never once offends.

When the pause falls after the fifth 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 sixth syllable, the tenor of the music becomes solemn and grave. The verse marches now with a more slow and measured space, than in either of the two former cases.

The wrath of Peleus' son | the direful spring
Of all the Grecian woes | O goddess, sing!

But the grave solemn cadence becomes still more sensible, when the pause falls after the seventh 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.
Long loved, adored ideas! | all adieu.

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. 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 opposition 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

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 shown to belong to English versification, and fall after the same four syllables in the line. Marmontel, in his Poëtique Françoise, vol. i. p. 269, takes notice, that this construction of verse is common to the Italians and the English; and defends the uniformity of the French cæsural pause upon this ground, that the alternation of masculine 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 English versification, see the Elements of Criticism, chap. xviii. sect. 4.

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 affect 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 or 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 shows 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 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 Spenser 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 heoric 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 composition. On the contrary, I am of opinion that it

It was

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
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 am persuaded 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.
inspired, in the first periods of every nation, by events and ob-
jects 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 compo-
sitions, 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
till men had begun to be assembled in great cities, after the dis-
tinctions of rank and station were formed, and the bustle of
courts and large societies was known, that pastoral poetry as-
sumed its present form. Men then 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, su-
perior 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 ac-
quainted; 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 recals 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, therefore, 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 seems

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