Rhythm and harmony in poetry and music, together with Music as a representative art; two essays in comparative æsthetics

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G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

NEW YORK LONDON

27 West Twenty-third Street 24 Bedford St., Strand

RHYTHM AND HARMONY

IN

POETRY AND MUSIC

TOGETHER WITH

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART

TWO ESSAYS IN

COMPARATIVE ^ESTHETICS

GEORGE LANSING RAYMOND, L.H.D.

PROFESSOR OF -ESTHETICS IN THE COLLEGE OF NEW JERSEY AT PKINCETON ; AUTHOR

OF "art in theory," "poetry as a REPRESENTATIVE ART,"

"the GENESIS OF ART-FORM," ETC.

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS

NEW YORK LONDON

27 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET 24 BEDFORD STREET, STRAND

S^t fmicktrbochet ^rcss
1895

Copyright, i8g4

BY

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
Entered at Stationers* Hall, London

Electrotyped, Printed and Bound by

Ube Knicherbocltec press, 1)ew jtforft
G. P. Putnam's Sons

PREFACE.

" T-JIS tendency is to systematize that which is beyond
the reach of systematic exposition," " to formulate
ideas and quahties not reducible ... to formulae,"
" full of learning and suggestive as the book is . . . one
is lost in its infinite wrinkles," " fills the mind . . . with
a tremendous lot of fancies," — such are the comments
with which some are now qualifying their acknowledg-
ments — very late in many cases — of the essential differ-
ences between the thought presented in this series of
essays, and in previous works upon the same subject.
Were there proof that a single writer of such comments
had made a sincere endeavor to follow the lines of thought
which in these essays have been developed in accordance
with the simplest principles of logic and common sense,
the opinions thus expressed might be entitled to grave
consideration. As it is, they are very apparent utterances
of superficial impressions, such as naturally occur to any
one who has not looked into a subject deeply enough to
be fully aware of its complexities, or of the essential im-,
portance and possibility of analyzing them.

As applied to the essay on " Rhythm and Harmony in
Poetry and Music," the pre-judgments of every one of
these critics would agree with that of the first of two au-
thors conversing, a year or more ago, in language somewhat
as follows : " No one can explain the methods underlying

iv PREFACE.

the subtle harmonies of Swinburne's lyrics." " Not the
first who attempts it, perhaps ; but do you think it intrin-
sically impossible ? " " If he could explain the methods,
he could produce the effects ; and we can't have two
Swinburnes." " Are you sure of your inferences? I may
be able to explain exactly what it is in the shading or
coloring of a picture, in the pose or gesture of a figure,
which represents the meaning that attracts and charms
me. But, unless myself a painter, I can't make a figure
like it." " What object would your explanation gain
then ? " And this was the reply :

First, a philosophic object. The causes underlying the
effects of art are in themselves as interesting as any un-
derlying the effects of nature — like the rising and falling
of the tides, the coming and going of the storms, the
sprouting of the leaves in spring, and their falling in the
autumn. And, second, a practical object. If a man be
a painter, to let him know precisely what it is that charms
us in a color or an outline may enable him by a few
touches to change an unsuccessful product into one fitted
to charm all those whose tastes agree with our own.
And so with a poet. Those who have ever attempted

verses know the constant danger of having the forms

metre, alliteration, assonance, rhyme — to which their
thought is harnessed, run away with it and ^reck it. Yet
without the aid of these, what could carry the thought a
single step in an artistic direction ? The poet must learn
to get along, not without them but with them ; yet in
such a way as to keep them in subjection, as exemplified
* in what is done by the acknowledged masters.

And there is another practical object to be gained.
This is to enable critics and through them, and in connec-
tion with them, people in general to understand and hence

PREFACE. V

to appreciate and enjoy that in art which is excellent.
At present, it has to be acknowledged that to attain this
object seems wellnigh beyond hope. Owing to a lack of
breadth and balance characterizing the practical limitations
of American culture, a man here who tries to treat art
philosophically finds his way blocked at the very thresh-
old of his undertaking with two almost insurmountable
obstacles. One is that few of our philosophers have had
sufficient aesthetic training to be interested in that which
concerns art ; and the other is that few of our artists —
including our art-critics, though there are noteworthy
exceptions — have had sufficient philosophical training to
be interested in that which concerns philosophy. Ac-
cordingly, as a rule, the philosopher never looks at the
art-book at all ; and the art-critic on whom the public
relies for information concerning it, does so merely be-
cause he cannot dodge what is tossed directly at him as a
reviewer ; but the little that he sees of it he usually
misapprehends and very frequently misrepresents.

These statements are not uncharitable. They are essen-
tially the opposite. Otherwise, if articles published in
some of our foremost journals — journals that would be
universally placed upon every list of the first half-score
critical authorities in our country — could not be attributed
to a lack of intelligence, one would be obliged to attribute
them to a lack of integrity. For instance, it is a simple
logical process, before defining the exact limitations of a
subject, to show its relations to other subjects by separa-
ting it from its surroundings ; in other words, to advance
from the generic to the specific ; and nothing, to a well-
trained mind, could appear more unjust than to represent
the beginning of this process as if it were the end of it.
Yet a criticism upon " Art in Theory," published in " The

vi PREFACE.

Independent '' of New York, opens with this sentence :
" The definition of art that it is ' nature made human '
may do in a way for the literature of a certain broadly
naturalistic school, but will hardly answer for art in its
wider general relations." The reader would certainly
infer from this — and nothing further is quoted as a text
for the wholly unwarranted " enlargement " that follows
— that the phrase taken from the book was the final re-
sult of an endeavor to distinguish carefully the character-
istics of (Esthetic art ; and that the author who had formu-
lated the definition was not aware that it was too broad
for the purpose. The last thing that any one would
conceive would be that what is really said of this defini-
tion on page 6 of " Art in Theory " is the following :
"Nature made human, or nature remade by the human mind,
is, of course, a very broad definition of art — one that
scarcely begins to suggest all that is needed for a full
understanding of the subject. But ... it will serve as
a starting-point for what is to follow " ; or that in the
very next sentence, at the opening of the next chapter,
is begun a distinction between art as thus defined and
aesthetic art.

Again, in the same book, the argument for the theory
of beauty that is presented is reinforced by showing the
substantial agreement with reference to the considera-
tions upon which it is based between all the prominent
writers on aesthetics, no matter how greatly they may differ
in their conclusions. The concise yet comprehensive state-
ment and classification of these views, for such a purpose,
would, alone, to a thinker, justify the preparation of the
entire volume. But a criticism in " The Nation ' not only
fails to recognize the force of this concurrency of opinion ;
but even why it should be supposed to have any force.

PREFACE. VU

■"The author's reading," the pubHc are told, "on every-
thing even remotely connected with the subject, has been
immense, and quotations from every one under the heav-
ens are as plentiful as blackberries in his pages . . .
they over-load them," etc. Of course, a comment like
this could not be phrased in such language, except as an
expression of inability to apprehend the object of the
quotations, and not only this, but even the elementary
fact that it is desirable for an author, before contributing
to a subject, to take pains to inform himself with refer-
ence to what others have already contributed to it, and,
if possible, to avail himself of their contributions even to
the extent of beginning to develop his system where
theirs have ended.

Once more, in " Art in Theory," an endeavor is made to
find a simple and single conception of beauty fitted to meet
the requirements of those who attribute it to essentially
mental results like association, adaptability, and conform-
ity to ideals, and also, at the same time, of those who
attribute it to essentially physical results like quality or
■complement in tone or color. The general conclusion
reached, which, if true, is of the utmost philosophic and
•artistic importance, is summed up on page 162 in language
which it certainly ought not to be difficult to understand,
to wit : " The highest beauty, in all its different phases,
results, as is the case in other departments of excellence,
from harmony in effects. Analyzing the elements of these
effects, carries with it the additional conclusion that, so
far as beauty is physical, it results when sounds, shapes,
or colors harmonize together and in such ways that their
■combinations harmonize with the natural requirements
of the physical senses — the ears or eyes to which they
appeal ; that, so far as beauty is psychical, it results

vill PREFACE.

when the thoughts and feelings suggested or expressed
through forms harmonize together, and also with the
natural requirements of the minds that they address ;
and that, so far as it is both physical and psychical, it
results when all the elements entering into both physical
and psychical effects harmonize together, and also with
the combined requirements of both natures in the man
subjected to their influence. In this latter sense, it will
be observed that complete beauty necessitates something
more than that which is either formal or expressional.
It can be obtained in the degree only in which a form
beautiful in itself fits a beautiful ideal conjured in the
mind by the imagination as a result of a harmonious com-
bination of thoughts and feelings." Immediately following
these statements in the book, the ideas in them are ab-
breviated in a definition expressed in terms concise, and,
perhaps, for those who have not read the preceding pages,
unnecessarily technical. At least, this impression of it
seems to have been conveyed to no less than four
reviewers, who, ignoring the ample explanations of the
preceding paragraph, have flung the briefer statement
toward the public as a sort of specimen boulder to show
what a hard road would have to be travelled by one
attempting to drive his thoughts through the volume.
Even this definition alone, however, might seem clear and
acceptable enough if quoted accurately. But it has
been quoted inaccurately. Here, with the italicized
phrases omitted, is what it has been represented to
be: "Beauty is a characteristic of any complex form
of varied elements producing apprehensible unity (/. (•.,
harmony or likeness) of effects upon the motive organs of
sensation in the ear or eye, or upon the emotive sources of
imagination in the mind ; or upon both the one and the
other." Moreover, from a text, thus prepared for his pur-

PREFA CE. ix

pose by himself, through the omission of words necessary
in order to render its meaning clear and exact, one critic
goes on to argue against its vagueness and " inexact-
ness." Besides this, too, he attempts to discredit the defi-
nition, upon the hypothesis that by a complex form's
producing " apprehensible unity of effects" "in the ear
and eye, or upon the emotive sources of imagination in
the mind," is meant the same as if it had been said
that beauty is owing to a mere intellectual apprehen-
sion of the fact that a form is not simple but complex
in its structure.

Such criticisms as these that have been quoted are,
of course, not worthy of attention in themselves. Nor
would it be in place here to draw the natural lesson
which they suggest with reference to the duty of a
reviewer to study a book sufficiently to let the public
know the facts about it, — what distinguishes its views
from those of other books upon the same subject, what is
the purpose of the quotations made in it, and what is
the exact nature of its conclusions. But there are other
reasons directly connected with our subject, why com-
ments of the kind noticed need mention. One reason is
that the attitude of mind toward the philosophic aspects
of art, indeed toward all truth in general, which they
indicate, suggests a lack of the kind of intelligence and
insight which are essential in order to appreciate the prac-
tical results of art, whether in the past or present. The
other reason is, that these particular reviews were pub-
lished in periodicals supposed by many to represent high
critical authority in our country. For both reasons, the
question forces itself upon one — Where is art-thought,
and art, and all that art is worth, likely to be led by such
an attitude of mind ?

This is not an idle question. It is one of grave import-

X PREFACE.

ance. In what sense it is so, may, perhaps, be best
revealed to the reader by retracing for him the considera-
tions which first revealed its import to the author. These
were gradually brought to his attention while examining
a series of criticisms concurrently made in different jour-
nals in an effort to discredit a fundamental proposition in
" Art in Theory," namely, that, in all successful art, the
proper balance must be preserved between the require-
ments of significance in the form and the requirements of
form considered only in itself. The proposition, at first
thought, seems almost too apparent to need even to be
stated. But on second thought no one can fail to observe
that, if accepted as true, it will necessarily put an end
to the suppositions of those who consider art to be
merely a matter of technique. And it is undoubtedly
this threatened danger to their own conceptions that
accounts for the way in which a certain class of critics
have seen fit to deal with the views presented in " Art in
Theory." For this reason it will be interesting, and pos-
sibly instructive, to notice just how much intelligence and
insight have armed the weapons with which they have
attacked these views. The examination of their criticisms
will be in place, too, in this preface, because it will ulti-
mately lead to a statement of the exact relations to the
general subject of art of those technical phases of it which
are treated in the present volume. The relevancy of the
first criticism to be quoted lies in the fact that it is a com-
ment on a brief historical review in " Art in Theory," in-
tended to show that the acknowledged errors of extreme
romanticism and classicism are traceable, respectively, to
the undue emphasizing, in the one, of significance, by
which, as repeatedly stated, is meant an " expression
of thought and feeling" ; and in the other, of form. In

PREFA CE. xi

approaching a refutation of this statement, a critic in
"The Independent" first refers to the "astounding mis-
apprehension " of this view, and then goes on to say :

" We cannot at all admit that . . . ' the production
of something that imitates a previously existing form or
subject is now one of the recognized meanings of the
term classic' " Why can he not admit this? Can it be
that he is unaware that, at the present day, which is what
is meant by the word now, men, when they speak of a
modern artist as producing a classic face, or temple, or
drama, or allusion in a drama, invariably suggest a like-
ness in it either to a Greek face, or temple, or drama, or
allusion containing Greek mythological references ? or
else, if not, at least a likeness to some form which, as a
form, is sufficiently old to have a recognized character?
And does he not know that the reason for this suggestion
is that " one of the recognized meanings " — not the only
meaning mentioned in " Art in Theory," but one men-
tioned in its historic connections — " of the term classic is
the production of something that imitates a previously
existing form or subject ? " One would think that every-
body ought to know this. " Les classique," says a French
criticism lying before me now, " le classique c'est-a-dire
ceux qui perp6tuent une maniire." But this reviewer does
not know it.

However, he probably fancies himself in good company
— for America. An earlier critic in "The Nation," quoting
from " Art in Theory " the statement that " the germ of clas-
sicism .is the conception that art should chiefly emphasize
the form," and of romanticism that." the ideas expressed
in the form should be chiefly emphasized," had exclaimed :
" Sound not sense was certainly never a motto of classical
literature." And who had said that it was ? Does the ca'--

xii PREFACE.

fully worded phrase " chiefly emphasize " mean " exclu-
sively emphasize?" Or does the term "sound " include
all that is meant by " form " ? When we speak of drama-
tic " form " do we often even suggest the idea of " sound " ?
What we mean then is the general method of unfolding
the plot as a whole. This attempted refutation reveals,
once more, that lack of philosophic discrimination to which
reference has been made. But connected with it, there is a
still greater lack of historic knowledge. Who has never
heard of the famous theatrical contest between the classi-
cists and romanticists in Paris, which once almost made a
Bedlam of the whole city, because Victor Hugo, the idol
of the latter, refused to model his dramas upon those of
his predecessors, which, in turn, were modelled upon those
of the Greeks? What was Hugo contending for? For the
right to emphasize chiefly the ideas behind the form — to
speak out naturally upon a modern subject, with a style to
fit it, whether it assumed a conventional form, or one that
nobody before had ever attempted. But no, says one of
these critics : " Classicism and Romanticism are tempers
of mind." " They owe their origin," says the other, " to
a difference in mental constitutions." Of course, there is
a truth in this. By nature men are inclined toward the
one or the other. But one might say the same of almost
any different phases of mental action. He might say it
of the tendencies to intemperance or gambling. But
would his saying this explain what either of these is?
Certainly not ; for only when the tendencies come to the
surface and reveal themselves in a form of action, do
they exist in such a way that they can be differentiated.
The same is true of classicism and romanticism. They
cannot be differentiated till developed into a form of ex-
o^ression. The questions before us are, what is this form,

PREFACE. xiii

and what is there in it, as a form, that makes it what it is ?
To speak of differences in " tempers of mind " or of " men-
tal constitution," is to mention something influential in
causing a difference to be. But it is no more influential
than is the spirit of the age, or the conditions of taste, or
environment, or education ; and it fails to suggest, as even
some of these latter do, why it is that, at one period, all
authors and artists incline to classicism, and at another all
of them incline to romanticism ; while, at some periods, the
same man seems almost equally inclined to both. Goethe's
" Leiden des jungen Werther's," for instance, and his
" Goetz von Berlichingen " are specimens of distinctively
romantic literature ; whereas his " Iphigenie auf Tauris "
is, perhaps, the most successful modern example of classic
literature. At what period between writing the first two
and the latter of these was his " temper of mind," his
" mental constitution " changed ? Is it not a little more
rational to say that what was changed was his artistic
method ? — possibly, his theory of this ? — that in the first
two he " chiefly emphasized " the " significance," and in
the last, " the form," causing it to be — what he did not
take pains to cause the others to be — "something imita-
ting a previously existing" Greek "form " not only, but
in this case, a Greek " subject " also ?

On the contrary, says one of these critics, elaborating
his theory about " tempers of mind," " classicism is reason-
able, logical, and constructive, while romanticism is emo-
tional and sensuous " ; and the other echoes his sentiments
with something about " the eternal distinction between
the intellectual and the emotional." And so one is to
believe that the distinguishing feature of classic Greek
sculpture — like a" Venus," a " Faun," or a "Group of the
Niobe," — or of a classic Greek drama, like the " Antigone,"

xiv PREFACE.

is, that it is not sensuous or emotional ; and that the distin-
guishing feature of the plays of Shakespeare or Hugo, or of
a Gothic cathedral, is that they are not reasonable or log-
ical or constructive ! Of course, there is a cause underlying
the distinctions that these critics are trying to make.
It is suggested too in " Art in Theory." On page 25, the
statement is made that one characteristic of romantic art
is that in it the form is " determined solely by the exigen-
cies of expression," and on page 17, at the beginning of
the chapter in which this statement occurs, as well as in
scores of other places in the book, it is explained that by
the term expression is meant a communication of thought
and feeling combined. Without this explanation indeed,
this meaning would be a necessary inference from the
fundamental conception of the book, which is that all art
is emotional in its sources, and that art-ideas are the
manifestations of emotion in consciousness (Chapters V.,
XVIII., and XIX.). It follows from all these facts to-
gether that emotion — but not without its accompanying
thought, which, sometimes, as with Browning, throws the
emotion entirely into the shade — has a more unrestricted
expression in romantic art than in classic art. In the
latter the form is " chiefly emphasized," and therefore
there is a more conscious, as well as apparent exercise of
rational intelligence engaged in constructing a form for it,
and in confining the expression to the limits of this form.
But we must not confound the effects of this difference
with that which causes them. This is the method of the
artist when producing his art-work, a method influenced
by the relative attention which he gives, either consciously
or unconsciously, to the requirements of significance or of
form. It is important to recognize this fact, too, because,
otherwise, we should not recognize that he is the master of

PREFACE. XV

his methods, and, if he choose, can produce in both styles,
though, of course, not with equal pleasure, because he
must have his preferences ; nor with equal facility, because
it is a matter of a lifetime to produce successfully in either.
To suppose that his methods master him, is to show a lack
of insight, with reference to the practice of art, still greater
than that just indicated with reference to the theory of it.
Goethe could write " Iphigenie auf Tauris " or the " Lei-
den des jungen Werther's." So, too, the same painter can
" chiefly emphasize " form in his figures by using the
distinct " classic " line, as it is termed ; or, if he have been
educated in another school, often merely if he choose, he
can suggest the form with the vague outlines of the roman-
tic impressionist ; and the same architect also can plan a
classic Girard college, or a romantic seaside cottage. To
imagine otherwise, is to parallel the notion of a schoolboy
that the poet tears his hair, rolls his eyes, raves in the lines
of a lyric rather than of a drama, and makes a general fool
of himself by a complete lack of self-control whenever he
is composing at all, simply because he is " born and not
made."

That this inference with reference to the error as to
artistic methods is justified, is proved by the inability of
critics of this class to recognize the necessity of making
any distinction whatever between significance in form —
not outside of form — and form as developed for its own
sake, concerning which the reader may notice what is said
in the Introduction to " Music as a Representative Art,"
on page 235.

It might be supposed that the definition of art there
quoted, to the effect that it is " the application to any-
thing, in the spirit of pleasure and for play only, of the
principle of proportion," would be welcomed as a desira-

xvi PREFACE.

ble reinforcement of the truth presented in two hundred
pages of an essay devoted entirely to the subject of
" Rhythm and Harmony." But, as shown in that Intro-
duction, there are reasons connected with the require-
ments of significance, that may be urged against this
view. Let us notice here certain other reasons of the
same tenor which are connected with the requirements
of form.

Go to critics of literature who believe that art is "the
application to anything " of the laws of art-form — which,
for reasons given on page 235, is a strictly just way of
shortening what is meant by the exceedingly loose use of
the term proportion in the above definition — and ask them
who is the first English poet of the age. They will
probably answer — and few would differ from them —
Swinburne. Now ask them what is the influence upon
life of the thought presented in his poetry, what is the
particular phase of inspiration to be derived from it ; and
they will probably answer that to them as critics this is
immaterial ; that not the thoughts of the poet, not his
subjects give him his rank, but his manner of presenting
them, his style, the rhythm of his verse, and its harmony
as produced by alliteration, assonance, or rhyme. Again,
ask a critic of painting of the same school to show you the
best picture in a gallery. He is as likely as not to point
you to the figure of a woman, too lightly clothed, posing
not too unconsciously near some water ; or, too heavily
clothed, sitting in front of a mirror. You ask him what
is the peculiar phase of thought expressed in this picture,
the particular inspiration for life to be derived from it ;
and he will look at you and laugh. Nothing to-day, in
our country, is supposed to show more ignorance about
art, than the conception that interest in a picture has any-

PREFACE. xvii

thing to do with a subject, or with its suggesting a story,
whether inspiring or otherwise. We must judge of it, we
are told, entirely by the form, the style, the use in it of
light and shade and color.

But, you say, there certainly was a time when theories
of art were different. Dante, Milton, Wordsworth, yes,
and Shakespeare, Goethe, and Schiller too, — all these had
style or form, yet what one thinks of chiefly, when he
reads them, is not this, but the thought that is behind it.
Then there is Raphael. On a Sunday, one could sit for
an hour before the Sistine Madonna, and feel more bene-
fited than in most of the churches. But Raphael's is not
a name, you find, with which to charm the modern critic.
You are told that you are behind the age. This state-
ment gives you a new suggestion, and you proceed to
apply it. You ask yourself if the same may be true with
reference to your views of literary art. You take up the
nearest periodical and read the poetry in it, and its criti-
cisms upon poetry. What are the new poets doing ?
What is it in their work that excites praise ? The
thought }■ — its breadth of conception ? its completeness of
development ? its power of expressing truth fitted to
uplift spiritually ? How often do we see, in an American
criticism, anything like an analysis of a new American
poem ? How often do we see an effort to bring to light the
subtle character of the philosophy of which it is the ex-
pression ? And there is the kindliest of reasons why these
are not seen. A suggestion of logical arrangement, as
in Dante or Milton, a hint of ethical maxims, though
set as brilliantly as in Shakespeare or Schiller, would
give a poet of our own day, were he commended for
these particularly, a hard tramp up the road to recog-
nition. What our people want is style, form. " Yes,"

xviii PREFACE. ■»

say the critics, " but imaginative form. You can't object
to that." Certainly one can — to imagination used for
mere form's sake. Imaginative form has value only when it
images a truth ; and this is that which our modern critics
have forgotten. Any comparison, however odious, will
do for them, if it be only a comparison, and almost any
style if it only ring, even if as hollow as some of the
French forms of verse that our magazines admire so
much. Not, of course, that the style must always be as
dainty as in these. Some of us prefer to take it — as the
English do their cheese — strong, with plenty of light and
shade, and if the former be leprous and the latter smutty,
so long as the effects are anything but weak, our critics,
especially of our religious journals, are apt to like it all
the better. The truth is that the moment that, through
an overbalancing regard for form, people come to think
that it alone has value, and that the subject in art is im-
material, they are in a fair way to become realists in that
very worst sense in which it means believers in the por-
trayal in art of any amount of ugliness or nastiness so
long as it be only that which they term " true to nature."
This is the belief which, at present, is uppermost in
France, brought about in that country by the predomi-
nating influence, through more than one century, of a
materialistic art-philosophy. It is the reason why, in def-
erence to the supposed interests of art, the thousands
there who dislike the practical results no less than we, do
not protest against unsavory plays or novels, like some of
those of Sardou or Zola, and can actually swallow their
dinners without turning to the wall some of the pictures
that confront them. It is the reason too — and this is
usually overlooked — why people foreign to France, while
willing to acknowledge that its artists in every department

PREFACE. xix

outnumber many times those of any other nation, have
never generally admitted a single French poet, musician,
painter, or sculptor, into that highest rank where, estimat-
ing worth according to a standard of significance as well
as of style, they have all agreed to place Shakespeare,
Goethe, Beethoven, Rubens, Raphael, and Angelo.
And this French attitude of mind toward art, — art which
some believe to be the handmaid of civilization and reli-
gion, and the most powerfully elevating of any purely
human influence ; — this attitude of mind and this direction
toward high achievement in art, is that to which almost all
those potent in criticism in our country, to-day, are doing
their utmost to point our own people.

In this preface, however, that which concerns us chiefly,
is the influence of theories of this kind upon artistic form.
Do those who hold that the subject of art can be " any-
thing," continue to hold on to their belief in the necessity
of a strictly artistic treatment of this ? — or do their fol-
lowers ? It may be a new suggestion, but the plain truth
is that usually they do not, and this because they cannot.
If it be a law, as is maintained in " Art in Theory," that
an artist, to be successful in his work, must always keep
his thought upon two things, — form in itself, and signifi-
cance in the form, — then he cannot think of only one of
these without doing injury to both. He is like a man in
a circus, riding two horses. The moment that he neglects
one of them, it shies off from him ; and, when he leans
to recover his control of this, he finds himself balanced
away from the other. Very soon, unless he wish to
keep up a jumping exhibition, for which his audience have
not paid, he will either ride no horse at all, or only one,
and this is as likely as otherwise to be the very one that
he at first neglected. So in art : unless a man preserve the

XX PREFACE.

equilibrium between the requirements of form and of
significance, no one can tell which of the two will finally
appeal to him most strongly. Significance of some sort,
for instance, to apply this to the case before us, is eternally
present in art, no matter what one's theory may be con-
cerning it. For this reason, when men have begun to
think that the subject of art may be " anything," so long
as the form is artistic, some of them, as just noticed, will
soon begin to think that it may be " anything but what it
should be." Before long, too, they will come to suppose
— just as people come to admire most the disagreeable
eccentricities of those whom they accept as leaders — that
the art is all the better for having as a subject " anything
but what it should be." Does this result appear improba-
ble ? Recall the almost universal comment of the art-
editors in our country upon the rejection of the nude male
figure prepared for the medal of the Columbian exhibition.
The comment^ — probably true enough in itself — was that
the authorities at Washington did not " understand " or
"appreciate art." But think of any one's imagining that
this fact was proved by this particular action ? — as if the
statues of our statesmen in the old Hall of Representatives
in the Capitol could not be specimens of art unless all their
pantaloons were chiselled off ! — as if appropriateness of
subject and of treatment had nothing to do with art in
them or in this medal! — as if by reproducing, however
successfully, a form representative of Greek life, we could
atone, in a distinctively American medal, for misrepre-
senting American life ! — as if, in short, there were not a
large number of other considerations far more important
as proving the possession of aesthetic appreciation than
the acceptance of a subject which, when exhibited in an
advertisement, would inevitably be deemed by hundreds

PREFACE. XXI

of thousands of our countrymen "' anything but what it
should be ! " How long would it take a condition of art-
appreciation, of which such a criterion were the test, to
fill our public parks with imitated Venuses and ApoUos,
meaningless to our people except as reminders of the
reigning beauties of else forgotten " living pictures " ?
What would be the effect upon our growing youth, were
the thoughts excited by such productions to be substi-
tuted for the nobler and purer inspiration of works like
St. Gaudens' " Farragut," or McMonnies' recently erected
" Nathan Hale."

The influence upon sculpture of this supposition that a
subject of art may be " anything," has not yet, fortunately,
in our country, been fully revealed. But the same can-
not be said with reference to poetry. There are plenty
of people among us, neither vicious nor morbid in their
tastes, who, nevertheless, are inclined to fancy that, con-
sidered aesthetically, a shady theme is not only excusa-
ble but desirable, when furnishing a background from
which to project into relief a brilliancy of treatment.
Therefore, for his brilliancy, they accepted Swinburne
when he first appeared; and to-day, though far less brilliant,
they have taken up with Ibsen. How would it be, ac-
customed as they are now to these morbid themes, were
another Ibsen to appear, an Ibsen so far as concerned his
subjects, but without the present Ibsen's excellence of
style? Would he, too, though destitute of the elements
of form which once their school considered the essential
test of art, — would he, too, be accepted as a foremost poet
or dramatist ? Strange as it may seem, he certainly would.
Most of the service of praise to Whitman in the Madison
Square Theatre in New York, some ten years ago, was
piped by our little metropolitan singers, whose highest

XXU PREFACE.

ideal of a poet had been Swinburne, and whose most
vehement artistic energy had hitherto expended itself
almost entirely upon dainty turns of melody in rondeaus
and villanelles. The result merely verified an old well-
known principle. Extremes meet. The apotheosis of
form, when the smoke of the incense clears away, reveals,
enthroned on high, a Whitman ; and not in any of Whit-
man's works is there even a suggestion of that kind of
excellence in form, which once his worshippers supposed
to be the only standard of poetic merit.

Precisely the same principle is exemplified in painting,
too. When an artist starts out with an idea that the sub-
ject of art may be "anything," of course he begins to
develop the form for its own sake. He has nothing else
to do. But form may mean many different things. With
some, it means the imitation of natural outlines or colors.
With some, it hardly means imitation at all. It means
the development of color according to the laws of har-
mony. Even where the subject of art is a person, even
in portraiture, there are critics who tell us that the result
should not be judged by its likeness to the person depicted.
It is not a photograph, forsooth. It is a painting, to be
judged by the paint, they say, and mean, apparently, by
the color, irrespective of its appearance in the face por-
trayed. Of course, this supposition will be deemed by
some unwarranted. Few would second it, made thus
baldly. But we must judge of beliefs by practices ; and
scarcely an art-exhibition in New York fails to show some
portraits on the walls — nor the ones least praised — in
which those sHght variations of hue which every careful
observer recognizes to be essential to the effects of life in
the human countenance, are so exaggerated for the sake
of mere effects of color, that faces in robust health are

PREFACE . XXlii

made to look exactly as if breaking out with the measles ;
or, not infrequently, as if the victim had had the disease,
and died of it. Thus in painting as in poetry, and the same
fact might be exemplified in all the arts, exclusive atten-
tion to form, — the conception that art is the application
of its laws to " anything " — may lead in the end, and very
swiftly too, to the destruction not only of all in art that
is inspiring to the soul, but even of that which is pleasing
to the senses. A law of art-form is worth nothing except
as it is applied to forms that have worth ; and that which
gives them worth is not by any means synonymous with
that which makes them " anything."

Contrast the conception that it is, with that underlying
proposition of Lessing in his great criticism upon the
Laocoon, namely that " the Greek artist represented noth-
ing that was not beautiful. . . . The perfection of the
subject must charm in his work." In this contrast is
represented a difference between the American and the
Greek ideal of art which may well cause serious reflection.
And when we recall not only the literary works of Goethe
and Schiller, but the marvellous advances in all the arts
that are universally traced to the acceptance in Germany
of the principles developed by Lessing, we can surmise
just how much the acceptance of like principles might
do for our own country, as well as how far we yet are
from a position in which we may even begin to entertain
a hope that they may ultimately obtain supremacy.

The author is under obligations to Messrs. Houghton,
MifBin & Co., Charles Scribner's Sons, and others, for
their kind permission to insert in this work poems of
which they hold the copyrights.

Princeton, N. J., September, 1894.

RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.
CONTENTS.

I.

PAGB

Correspondences between Elements of Form in

THE Arts of Sound and of Sight . . 1-7

Introduction — Object of the Present Volume — The Arts as Sepa-
rated by the Differences between Sound and Sight — Forms as
Separated by Silences or Pauses among Sounds, and by Lines or
Outlines among Sights — Chart of the Methods of Art-Composition
— Separate Effects of Sound Differ in Duration, Force, Quality,
and Pitch ; and of Sights in Extension, in Light and Shade, and in
Quality and Pitch of Color — Respective Correspondences between
Effects in Sound and in Sight — Combined Influences of these
Effects as Manifested in Rhythm and in Proportion, and also in
Harmony of Sound and of Color.

II.

Rhythm in Nature, Mind, and Speech : How De-
veloped BY Methods of Art-Composition . 8-24
Rhythm as a Form of Human Expression — As Manifested in Exter-
nal Nature — In the Action of the Nervous System, and in that of
the Mind — Results of Experiments Proving Mental Rhythmical
Action ; Groups Formed from Series of Uniform Sounds — Of
Sounds Regularly Differing in Accent or in Duration — Inferences
from these Experiments — Speech as Necessitating Accent and
Groups of Syllables — Larger Groups also — Inhalation as Necessi-
tating Pauses, and Causing Composite Groups — Adaptation of
these Conditions to Secure Rhythmic Effects of Unity and Variety,
through Order — Complexity, Confusion, Counteraction, Compari-
son, Contrast, and Complement — Principality and Subordination —

xxvi CONTENTS.

PAGE

Congruity, Incongruity, and Comprehensiveness — The Number of
Syllables not the Basis of the Measure-Units — Nor Quantity — But
Accent — Influence of Central-Point, Setting, Parallelism, Organic
Form, Symmetry — Measures Constructed According to Accent —
Others— Primitive Method of Verse-Rhythm — Greek and Latin
Verse-Rhythm — English and its Advantages.

III.

Art-Methods as Developing Measure and Verse 25-37

The Art-Methods, especially Repetition, as Causing Groups of
Syllables in Measures — Double and Triple Measures — Initial, Ter-
minal, Median, Compound, and Double Initial and Terminal —
Significance of Each Measure — Art-Methods as Causing Groups of
Measures in Lines — Hebrew Parallelism, and Greek — The Couplet
— The Caesura — Lines of One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and
More Measures — Examples of them — The Iambic Tetrameter —
The Iambic Pentameter, Heroic Measure, Blank Verse — The
Classic Hexameter — English Hexameter — Children of the Lord's
Supper — Another Example — A Translation from the Iliad — The
Alexandrine.

IV.

Art-Methods as Developing Variety in Measure

AND Line 38-52

Natural Conditions Necessitating Variety — Two Ways of Intro-
ducing this into Measures — By Changing the Number of Syllables
in the Measures and Lines — Examples — By Omitting Syllables
Necessary to a Complete Foot — Necessity of Reading Poetry in
a Way Analogous to Rendering Words in Music — Unused Possi-
bility in English Blank Verse — Suggestions of it — An Example of
it and a Criticism — Omitting Syllables at the Ends of Lines — Add-
ing them in Rhymed Lines — In Blank Verse — Feminine and Double
Endings of Lines — Examples of Regularly Metrical Lines with
Syllables Omitted and Added — Changing the Numbers or the
Places of Accents in the Lines — In Rhyming Verses — In Blank
Verse — Example of Greater Regularity — Accent and its Absence
in the Final Foot : End-stopped Lines — Run-on Lines : Weak and

CONTENTS. xxvii

PAGE

Light Endings — Forms of Broken Blank Verse — Shakespeare's Use
of Run-on Lines.

Art-Methods as Developing Stanzas and Typi-
cal Verse-Forms S3-89

Rhythm as so far Explained — Necessity in Each Poem of a Stand-
ard Measure or Line — Illustrating the Art-Methods of Principality,
Massing, Interspersion, Complication — Examples — Tendency to
Make Long Lines just Double the Length of Short lines — The
Couplet, through Complication and Continuity, Passes into the
Stanza — Rhythm as Related to the Tunes of Verse, and Causing
Correspondences between Lines of Verse and Lines of Vision —
Rhythm as Involving Consonance, Dissonance, Interchange, and
Gradation — Abruptness, Transition, and Progress — Slow and Fast
Progress as Represented in Poetic Rhythm — Rhythmic Possibilities
of Stanzas of Different Forms — Stanzas of Three Lines — Four —
Five — Six — Seven — Shorter Chaucerian — Eight — Nine, the Spen-
serian — Longer Chaucerian — The Sonnet — First Type of — Second
— Third — French Forms of Verse — Triolet — Rondel — Rondeau —
Kyrielle — Rondeau Redouble — Ballade — Pantoum — Villanelle —
Chain Verse — Sestina — Sicilian Octave — Virelai — Chant Royal —
Ode — Comic Effects — Incongruity between Thought and Form — In
the Form only — In Endings of Lines — In Rhymes — In Pauses.

VI.
Art-Methods as Developing Rhythm in Music . 90-106

Rhythm an End aside from its Connection with Words — Music
as Developed from Song — Point of Separation between Speech
and Song : Poetry and Music — Musical Measures more Compli-
cated than Poetic — Ways of Indicating Musical Notes and Rests —
Measures — Longer Divisions Corresponding to Poetic Lines — De-
veloped as in Poetry from the Art-Methods, Parallelism, etc. — The
Motive — Its Expressional Importance — The Phrase, Section, and
Period — Changes in the Period — Unity of Effect as Developed from
these Rhythmic Arrangements — Why Higher Works Find Few to
Appreciate them — Musical Measures, Like Poetic, Double and
Triple — Accent in Musical Measures — Why Poetic Measures Need

XXVlll CONTENTS.

PAGE

to be Distinguished in Other Ways than as Double and Triple —
Three or Six Notes as Used in the Time usually Allotted to Two
or Four — Changes of the Places of Accent in the Measures — Possi-
■ bility of Representing Different Effects of Movement — Typical.
Forms of Rhythm — General Effect of Musical Rhythm Depends
on that of Whole Phrases, Sections, and Periods — Effects of
Rhythm very Different from those of Harmony — But the Develop-
ment of the One has Accompanied that of the Other.

VII.

Art-Methods of Unity, Order, Comparison, Prin-
cipality, ETC., AS Developing Poetic Har-
mony ........ 107-120

The Terms Tone and Color are Used in both the Arts of Sound and
of Sight — Harmony a Complex Effect but a Unity — The Mind Con-
scious of the Divisions of Time Represented in Rhythm ; Not
Conscious of those of Vibrations Represented in Harmony — In the
Recognition of. which, the Ear and Eye Act Similariy — The Scien-
tific Knowledge of the Origin of Tone and Color did not Precede
the Artistic Use of them — Analogies between Poetry and Paint-
ing or Sculpture — Also between Architecture and Music — Poetic
Effects Dependent on Laws of Sound — Examples of Verse Con-
taining too Much Variety of Tone — Necessity for Unity of Tone-
Effects — Dependent upon the Order of the Syllables — Euphony
— Vowel- and Consonant-Sounds Easy to Pronounce — Examples
of Euphonious Words and Poems — If Difficult to Pronounce, Illus-
trate Artistic Confusion — Euphony Leading to Use of Like Sounds
According to Art-Method of Comparison — Accent as Necessitating
Art-Methods of Counteraction, Contrast, Complement — Further
Exemplification — Consecutive Tones should not be as Different
as Possible — But should not be Alike on both Accented and Un-
accented Syllables — Accented Tones can be Repeated According
to Art-Methods of Principality, but, in such cases, Subordination
and Balance Require Different Unaccented Tones.

VIII.
Alliteration, Assonance, and Rhyme . . 1 21-135

Like Effects in the Sounds of Syllables — Alliteration — In Hebrew
Poetry — In Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Spanish, German — In

CONTENTS. xxix

PAGB

Anglo-Saxon— As Used by Milton, Shakespeare, and Modem Eng-
lish Poets — Assonance — Examples, Greek, Latin, French, Italian,
Spanish, German, Anglo-Saxon, English — Two Examples from
Tennyson— Assonance Used for Rhyme — Rhyme, Place of — Its
. History — Greek, Latin, Early English — Reason for it — Rules of.
First, Second, Third, Fourth, Fifth— A Correlated Chinese Style
of Composition.

IX.

Comparison by Way of Congruity, Central-Point,
Parallelism, etc., as Determining the Use
OF Like Poetic Sounds .... 136-146

Inartistic Effects of an Excessive Use of Alliteration, Assonance,
and Rhyme — Objections urged against Rhyme — These Forms
should not be Discarded, but Used in Accordance with the Art-
Methods : Unity, Variety, Comparison, Contrast — Congruity in
Thought as Represented in Sound-Effects — Applied to Alliteration
and Assonance — Influence of these upon Association and Memory
— Illustration — Influence of Incongruity — Of the Art-Method of
Compreihensiveness^Methods of Principality, Central-Point, Sub-
ordination, Setting, as Exemplified in Sound-Arrangements — Cor-
respondence in this Regard between Effects of Poetic and Musical
Harmony — Similar Actions of the Mind in both Arts — Parallelism
as Emphasized by Rhyme.

X.

Repetition, Alternation, Consonance, Inter-
change, ETC., AS Determining the Use of
Like Poetic Sounds .... 147-16 1

Repetition and Alternation as Influencing the Use of Alliteration,
Assonance, and Rhyme — Of Alternation as Developed from Paral-
lelism and Balance — Balancing Series of Sounds — In Whole Words
that are Alike — How these Exemplify Alternation — Balancing
Series of Sounds Alike by Alliteration or Assonance — From the
Greek, Latin, Spanish, French, German, English — Excess in this
to be Avoided — Massing as a Corrective of Excessive Balance or

XXX CONTENTS.

PAGE

Alternation — And Interspersion as Corrective of Excessive Massing
— Also Complication and Continuity — Poetic Examples of these
Methods — Consonance as Applied to Sounds ; Phonetic-Syzygy —
Examples of the Use of Allied Consonant-Sounds — Of Allied
Vowel-Sounds — Dissonance and Interchange in Music — In Poetic
Sounds — Illustrations.

XI.

Gradation, Abruptness, Continuity, and Progress
AS Determining the Use of Like Poetic
Sounds 162-167

Importance, in All the Arts as an Element of Harmony, of Grada-
tion — Logical Connection between it and the Use of Allied Sounds :
All Possible Syllable-Sounds can be Graded and Arranged in a
Series — So can Words, though Containing both Consonants and
Vowels — Degrees of Phonetic Gradation Determined by the Manner
of Utterance and Kinds of their Gradation by the Direction of the
Changes in Utterance : Analogies between Gradation in Words and
in the Musical Scale — Illustrations of Gradation in Verse — Espe-
cially in the Accented Syllables — Analogy between One Effect of
it and the Discord of the Seventh in Music — Variety in Verse Har-
mony as Produced by the Combination of all the Methods here
Considered — Abruptness in Verse Harmony — Transition and Pro-
gress — Examples .

XII.

Analogies between the Use of Quality and Pitch

IN Poetry and Music .... 168-177

Each of these Arts Developed Independently, yet Sounds as Used
in Both are Connected — Every Vowel Has a Quality of its Own —
Also a Pitch — Not Essential for our Purpose to Know what this
Pitch is — Only the Fact — In Passing from One Word to Another
we Pass to a Different Pitch, and in Using Different Vowel- and
Consonant-Sounds together in One Word we Produce Effects Allied
to Chords — These Effects Augmented by Upward and Downward
Inflections Used in Reading, Causing Analogies to Musical Melody
and Harmony — Different Kinds of Verse-Melody Produced by
Different Arrangements of Sounds and Accents — Tunes of Verse as
Determined by the Rhythm — Illustrations — Melody and Harmony,

CONTENTS. xxxi

PAGE

though Existing in both Poetry and Music, are Different in Each
Art — Every Possible Pitch of the Voice can be Used in Poetry ;
Only Notes of Some Selected Pitch in Music— The Cause of this
Difference to be Found in the Difference between the Expressicnal
Possibilities of Articulated and Inarticulated Sounds — Early Musi-
cians did not Know All their Reasons for Constructing Musical
Scales — But, Judging by Effects, were Led, as is now Known, in
All Cases to Put together Like Partial Effects of Unlike Complex
Wholes.

XIII.

Musical Melody and Harmony, as Developed His-
torically According to the Methods of
Art-Composition 178-igi

The Best Results of Quality, as Exemplified in the Human Voice
and Instruments, Produced by a Blending of Like Effects — In
Pitch, the Same is True — But to Understand the Subject Thor-
oughly, we should Know the Causes of Quality and Pitch — The
Note and Half-Note— Written Music : the Staff— Treble Clef-
Bass Clef — C Clef — Sharps and Flats — Music among the Greeks
— How Developed by Effects of Comparison, First by Way of
Congruity — The Gregorian Chant an Endeavor to Imitate the
Speaking Voice — Intonation is Based on Comparison by Way of
Repetition — Melody, Developed from this, is Based on Compari-
son by Way of Consonance : Pythagoras and the Origin of Musical
Scales — Variety, Introducing Contrast, Incongruity, Alteration,
and Dissonance, Necessitates, for Unity of Effect, Complement,
Balance, Alternation, and Interchange — Octaves, as Sung together
by the Greeks, a. Form of Parallelism— Polyphonic Music, as De-
veloped from this, and from Methods of Alternation, Complication,
and Interchange — Harmonic Music Developed by a Renewed
Application of the Methods of Order, Principality, etc. — Causes
of the Rise of Harmonic Music.

XIV.

Musical Scales as Developed by the Art-Method
OF Grouping Like Partial Effects of Un-
like Complex Wholes .... 192-206

As Harmony is Developed from Melody, to Understand Music,
we must First Learn why Certain Notes are Fitted to Follow One

XXXll CONTENTS.

PAGE

Another — Scales Constructed from the Sense of Hearing, and All
Scales Similar, therefore the Same Law Underlies them — Sounds
Differ in Quality — Musical Sounds Result from Regularly Periodic
Vibrations — Differences in Loudness from the Different Amplitude
of Vibrations, and in Pitch from the Different Time of Vibrations
— Differences in Quality from the Different Combinations of Vibra-
tions — Vibrations Compounded, and Each of the Compoimds Intro-
duces into the Tone a Pitch or Partial Tone of its Own — Law of
Sequence of the Upper Partial Tones of Musical Notes — Exam-
ple in Music — Correspondence of the Earliest Greek Scale with
the Chief Partial Tones of its Keynote — And of our Own Major
Scale — A Possible Scale of Ten Notes — Our Minor Scale — These
Scales All Constructed on the Principle of Grouping Like Partial
Effects of Unlike Complex Wholes — The Method in which the
Greeks, Ignorant of Partial'Tones, were Guided to these Results
by their Sense of Hearing — How they Constructed, by Measuring
the Length of Strings, the Lyre of Orpheus — Similar Results
Reached by the Modems through Counting Vibrations, and the
Resulting Ratios — The Ratios of the Chinese Scale of Six Notes
as Developed by the Ancients — The Ratios of the Greek Scale
of Seven Notes — Other Greek Scales — Deficiencies of the Greek
Scale and the Development of the Modem Scales — Comparison
between the Ratios of these and of the Pythagorean Scale — The
Keys of the Piano and the Scales Played from the Different Key-
notes — The Temperate Scale of the Present, and its Ratios as
Compared with the Pythagorean, the Major, and the Minor.

XV.

Musical Harmony as Developed by the Art-
Method OF Grouping Like Partial Effects
OF Unlike Complex Wholes . . . 207-220

Historical Developments from Counteraction, etc., as Involved in
Polyphonic Music— Connection between the Concords and the
Lowest or Chief Partial Tones of a Compound Note — Harmony
Emphasizes the-Fact that Like Partial Effects are Put with Like-
Visible Proof of this— All the Notes of a Scale Harmonized by
Using Chords Based on the Tonic, Dominant, and Subdominant
—Different Possible Arrangements of the Same Chord— The Ca-
dence and the Dissonance of the Seventh— The Principal Key—

CONTENTS. xxxiii

PAGE

Application of Subordination, Balance, Central-Point, Parallelism,
Symmetry, Alternation, Massing, Complication, Continuity, etc.
— And Other of the Methods of Art-Composition — Interchange as
an Element of Modulation — And Gradation, Abruptness, Transi-
tion, and Progress — Interchange and Gradation in Sounding the
Same Note in Successive Chords — In Passing from One Key to
Another, by Making the Tonic or Subdominant of One Key the
Dominant of Another — By Passing from Major to Minor, or Vice
Versa — Further Exemplified and Explained — Relations of Differ-
ent Chords to One Another — Abruptness in Transitions — The
Chords Considered Separately — -The Major Triad — The Chord
of the Seventh — The Minor Triad — The Ratios of the Notes of
these Chords when in the Same Octaves — Summary of the Ratios
of Notes Causing Musical Concords.

XVI.

Psychical and Physical Reasons for the Effects

OF Musical Form 221-228

Relations of the Ratios Underlying Effects in Music to those in the
Other Arts — Why is it Necessary that Notes should Chord ? — Psy-
chological Reason — Correspondence of it to the Reason Given for
Effects of Rhythm — Physiological Confirmation of this Reason —
Beats Resulting from Discordant Notes — New Resulting Notes
Formed by these Beats — In the Major Triad, the Resulting Note
is itself the Tonic — Beats Disagreeable, because Interruptions of
the Regularity of Periodic Vibrations — Cause Noise, not Music —
Blending of Psychological and Physiological Reasons for Effects
of Musical Form : Mind and Ear must Recognize that Like is Put
with Like.

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

Introduction . 231-238

I.

Representation in Song as Contrasted with

that in Speech 239-249

The Sustained Sounds of Singing and the Unsustained of Talk-
ing — The Former as Developed in Music and the Latter in Poetry

XXXiv CONTENTS.

— Differences between these Two Methods of Vocal Representation
— Music as Necessitating Sustained Sounds — The Germs of its Rep-
resentations are mainly in Inarticulate Utterance, Instinctive and
Associative, rather than Imitative and Comparative — The Repre-
sentation of Speech, also Dependent partly upon Inarticulate
Intonations — How these are Related to the Various Developments
of Music— Representation in Music not Distinct and Definite, as
in Words— Darwin's Theory of the Origin of Music— Gurney's
Comment on this— Further Comments — Why Music is not Made
Definitely Intelligible or Imitative— How it Represents both
Mental Processes and Natural Surroundings — The Mind of the
Composer not Necessarily in the Mood Naturally Represented by
his Music — His Relation to this Mood that of a Painter to the
Mood Represented in his Model's Pose.

II.

Representation through Musical Duration and

Force : Rhythm 250-263

Similarity of Poetic and Musical Representation — Representative
Intonations of Elocution — Through Duration, Force, Pitch, and
Quality — Discoursive or Associative and Dramatic or Comparative
Elocution — Each Representative According to the Principle of Cor-
respondence — Musical Duration as Representative — Musical Dura-
tion as Representative of both Mental Moods and Natural Effects
— Illustrations — Musical Force as Representative of both Mental
Moods and Natural Effects — Rhythm as a Combination of Effects
of Duration and Force — Significance of Rhythm — As Representing
Moods of Buoyancy and Exhilaration — Confidence, Triumph —
Self-Poise, Dignity — The Gliding, Yielding, Graceful — Hesitation,
Doubt — Disturbance, Turmoil, Confusion — Imitative Effects —
Forging — Flight Downward — Upward — Snakes — Water — Flowing
Ease — Giants' Tread.

III.

Representation through Musical Pitch, High

AND Low, Upward and Downward . 264-273

Correspondences in the External World to High and Low Pitch —
And to Upward and Downward Directions of it — Further Explana-
tions — As Illustrated in Elocutionary Intonations — Gregorian

CONTENTS. XXXV

PAGE

Chants as Developed from Elocutionary Laws — Upward Movements
in Musical Questions — In Anticipative Expectancy — Downward
Movements in Effects that are Conclusive — Affirmative and Positive
— Combined Upward and Downward Movements in Effects both
Anticipative and Conclusive — The Same Rendered Emphatic-
Imitative Effects : Upward as in Rising — Downward as in Sink-
ing — In Both Directions.

IV.

Representation through Musical Pitch : Com-
bined Wave-Movements .... 274-279

The Meaning of the Elocutionary Circumflex or Wave-Movements
— Further Explanations — How these Conditions are Paralleled in
Music — Illustrations of Inconclusive Uncertainty Ending with
Positive and Decisive Effects — Of Anticipation Ending with
Finality — Of the Indecisive Ending with the Decisive — Of Hope,
Ending with Doubt — Of Irony, Mockery — Other Illustrations.

V.

Representation through Blending of Pitch as in

Musical Harmony 280-290

Elocutionary Use of Pitch, when Indicative of Suspense — Blending
of Harmonic and Inharmonic Intervals of Pitch, as Analogous to
Effects of Quality — Meanings in Speech of the Major and the
Minor Interval — Their Meanings in Music— Further Explanations
— The Subdominant, Dominant, and Tonic — Complete and In-
complete Cadence — Explanations of their Effects — Meanings of
Upward and Downward Elocutionary Harmonic Cadences — Illus-
trations of the Satisfying Effects of Upward Musical Major Ca-
dences — Unsatisfying Effects of Upward Minor Musical Cadences
— Satisfying Effects of Downward Major Cadences — Unsatisfying
Effects of Downward Minor Cadences — Wagner's Use of Upward
Anticipative Movement Followed by Downward Minor Cadences.

XXXVl CONTENTS.

VI.

PAGB

Representation through Musical Quality . 291-300

How Musical Quality is Determined — How Determined in the
Human Voice — What Different Qualities of the Voice Represent
— Their Correspondences in Nature — Analogies between Quality as
Used in Elocution and in Music — Representation by Way of As-
sociation through the Use of Different Musical Instruments — The
Same Continued — Representation through these by Way of Imita-
tion — Other Examples.

VII.

Musical Representation in Series of Passages when

NOT Imitative 301-313

Series of Passages as Representative — By Way of Association as in
Discoursive Elocution — As Illustrated by Haweis — By J. D. Rogers
— Schumann's " In der Nacht" — Brahme's German Requiem — B.
I. Oilman's Experiment — Explanation — Recorded Result — Deduc-
tion to be Drawn from these Quotations : In what Sense they In-
dicate that Music is Representative — Quotation from J. S. Dwight
Interpreting the most Important of the Forms of Musical Composi-
tion — Program Music — Its Appropriate Use.

VIII.

Musical Representation in Series of Passages when

Imitative, with Remarks about Wagner . 314-323

Influence upon Representation of Slight Imitative Effects— Exam-
ples : Barking of a Dog— Braying of an Ass— Nightingale's Song
—Cackling of a Hen— Cluck of Same — Human Sounds— Laugh-
ter — Yawning — Sneezing — Coughing — Quarrelling— Sobbing

Scolding— Moaning— Fondling— Playing — Frightening Others—
Paganini's Testimony— The General Character of Wagner's Mo-
tives—His Peculiar Method of Using them— Result of this, Es-
pecially upon those not Previously Appreciating Music— His Ten-
dency toward a Language of Music— Will Others Develop this—
Two Methods in which it may be Done with Safety— Conclusion.

Index . . . ,,-
325

RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN
POETRY AND MUSIC

RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY
AND MUSIC.

CHAPTER I.

CORRESPONDENCES BETWEEN ELEMENTS OF FORM IN
THE ARTS OF SOUND AND OF SIGHT.

Introduction — Object of the Present Volume — The Arts as Separated by
the Differences between Sound and Sight — Forms as Separated by
Silences or Pauses among Sounds, and by Lines or Outlines among
Sights — Chart of the Methods of Art-Composition — ^Separate Effects
of Sound Differ in Duration, Force, Quality, and Pitch ; and of Sights
in Extension, in Light and Shade and in Quality and Pitch of Color
— Respective Correspondences between Effects in Sound and in Sight —
Combined Influences of these Effects as Manifested in Rhythm and in
Proportion, and also in Harmony of Sound and of Color.

T N the volume entitled " The Genesis of Art-Form," the
prominent methods of composition in art were traced
from their origin in elementary conditions of mind or
of matter up to the period in which they were said to result
in rhythm, as applied to duration in time ; in proportion,
as applied to extension in space ; and in harmony, as ap-
plied to quality and pitch, whether of note or color. A
chart representing these methods, as treated in that vol-
ume, as well as their order of development and their inter-
dependence, is inserted on page 3. It should be known,

2 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

too, that in the first volume of this series of essays, en-
titled " Art in Theory," Chapter XIV., the results attained
by these methods were shown to be necessary to the
effects not merely of art-composition, but also — and this
explains their use in art — to those of all beauty, whether
perceived in art or in nature.

The present volume is intended to take up the discus-
sion of our general subject at the point where it was
dropped in " The Genesis of Art-Form," and to study
the developments in poetry and music of rhythm and
harmony. In order to perceive exactly the nature of the
task which this intention involves, as well as the corres-
pondences between the phases of sound that are to be
treated and analogous phases in the arts of sight, let us
begin by recalling a few of the more prominent facts
with reference to the effects of the arts in general.

As we do this, a first fact suggested is that poetry and
music are composed of elements of sound appealing to
the ear in the order of time, and that painting, sculpture,
and architecture are composed of elements of sight appeal-
ing to the eye in the order of space.

A second fact suggested is that, as a condition for con-
structing a form whether appealing to the ear or eye,
one must be able to apprehend and use more than one
sound or one object of sight. A sound single in the sense
of manifesting neither alteration nor cessation, would soon
come to convey no more intelligence to the ear than ab-
sence of sound ; and a single hue of the same shade from
nadir to zenith would soon convey no more intelligence
to the eye than absence of hue. In order to be under-
stood and used by a man who cannot conceive of time
or space except as it is divided into parts, that which is
heard must be interrupted by periods of silence and

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4 X YHTHM AND HARMONY IN POE TR V AND MUSIC.

that which is seen must be separated from other
things by outlines. This is the same as to say — and
here we may refer to the chart on page 3 — that what
we hear must have a certain limit of duration indicated
by pauses in the sound ; and that what we see must have
a certain limit of extension indicated by lines. How shall
the artist determine what these limits shall be ? Fortu-
nately, in the more important regards, nature herself has
determined them. As for poetry and music, they are both
developed, primarily, from methods of using the human
voice, — in the one case in speech, in the other in song ;
and, secondarily, from methods in which sounds external
to man are produced. But whenever the human voice is
used, pauses are used, both at comparatively short inter-
vals, after separate words and notes, and also at longer
intervals where it is necessary for the lungs to draw in air ;
and whenever sounds that are not produced by the human
voice are heard, they too are separated by intervals of
silence. Painting, sculpture, and architecture, again, are
developed from the methods in which men use or perceive
objects in the external world. All of these have outlines
not only separating them from other objects, but gener-
ally also separating their own constituent parts from one
another. What more natural than that the artist should
accept such arrangements of things heard or seen in na-
ture, and should let them determine, according to meth-
ods of imitation, the relative duration or extension that
shall be manifested in his works ? As a fact, we know
that this is exactly what he does do.

Duration and extension, however, are not the only
conditions that the artist must consider. As shown in
" Poetry as a Representative Art," Chapter III., sounds
may differ not merely in duration or the quantity of time

CORRESPONDENCES IN ARTS OF SOUND AND SIGHT. 5

that they fill ; but also in force, or the stress with which
they are produced, making them loud or soft, abrupt or
smooth, etc. ; in quality, making them sharp or round, full
or thin, aspirate or pure, etc. ; and in pitch, making them
high or low, or rising or falling in the musical scale. Sights,
too, may differ in analogous ways, i. e., not merely in
extension or the quantity of space that they fill, which is
the same thing as size ; but also in contour, which is the
same thing as shape, and is shown by the appearance of
forcible or weak lines of light and shade ; in quality of
color, which has to do with their tints and shades and
mixtures ; and in pitch of color, which is determined by
the hue.

In addition to merely stating these facts, it may be
well to enlarge upon one or two of them. Notice, for in-
stance, how true it is that force which gives emphasis to
sounds, rendering them more distinct from one another
than would be the case without it, corresponds to light
and shade, which emphasize and render more distinct the
contour through which one portion of space having a cer-
tain shape is clearly separated from another. Notice,
also, that accented and unaccented syllables or notes, as
they alternate in time, perform exactly analogous func-
tions to those of light and shade, as they alternate in space.
The impression of form, for instance, which, so far as it re-
sults from metre, is conveyed by varying force and lack of
force in connection with divisions made in time, is the
exact equivalent of that impression of form, which, so far
as this results from shape, is conveyed by varying light
and shade in connection with divisions made in space.
Notice, again, that quality and pitch are terms almost
as much used in painting as in music. They will
be fully explained in another volume. At present it is

6 RHY THM A ND HARMON V IN POETRY A ND MUSIC.

enough to say that the first depends, exactly as in music,
on the proportions of the combinations entering into the
general effect ; and that the second depends on the prop-
erties of the elements that are combined. Undoubtedly,
too, it is owing partly to a subtle recognition of the corre-
spondences just indicated that to certain effects in the arts
both of sound and of sight the more general terms, tone
and color, have come to be applied interchangeably.

Later on, in connection with the various divisions and
subdivisions under which will be treated the different
phases of form to be considered, it will be shown in what
way each is influenced by the different methods which,
in the chart, are represented as factors from which it is
developed. Here it is sufficient to say that— duiStioA,
limited by pauses in connection with force, as applied
to the accents of syllables or notes, gives rise to rhythm ;
that^extension, limited by outlines in connection with
light and shade, as applied to contour or shape, gives
rise to proportion ; that quality and pitch of tone taken
together furnish the possibility of developing the laws of
-the harmony of sound; and that quality and pitch of
color furnish the same possibility with reference to the
laws of the harmony of color. It is important to notice,
too, that force or accent, while having to do mainly with
rhythm, has a certain influence also upon tune, especially
in poetry upon the tunes of verse, and in music especially
where it is necessary to npiake the tune expressive of senti-
ment ; also that, in the same way, light and shade, while
having to do mainly with proportion, have a certain in-
fluence also upon color, especially in order to inter-
pret the meaning which a colored surface is intended to
convey, as, for instance, whether it is to represent what is
flat or round. Correspondingly also it is important to

CORRESPONDENCES IN ARTS OF SOUND AND SIGHT. 7

notice that_guality .and pitch of sound are often necessary
for the full effects of force as applied to rhythrnj and
that the same elements of color are often necessary for
the full effects of light and shade as applied to pro-
portion. In fact, when used in the same arts, the effects
that are now to be considered are none of them produced
■exclusively according to one method or to one combina-
tion of methods, but more or less according to all of them
when operating conjointly.

CHAPTER II.

RHYTHM IN NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH : HOW DEVEL-
OPED BY METHODS OF ART-COMPOSITION.

Rhythm as a Form of Human Expression — As Manifested in External
Nature — In the Action of the Nervous System, and in that of the Mind
— Results of Experiments Proving Mental Rhythmical Action ; Groups
Formed from Series of Uniform Sounds— Of Sounds Regularly Differing
in Accent or in Duration — Inferences from these Experiments — Speech
as Necessitating Accent and Groups of Syllables — Larger Groups also —
Inhalation as Necessitating Pauses, and Causing Composite Groups —
Adaptation of these Conditions to Secure Rhythmic Effects of Unity
and Variety, through Order — Complexity, Confusion, Counteraction,
Comparison, Contrast, and Complement — Principality and Subordina-
tion — Congruity, Incongruity, and Comprehensiveness — The Number
of Syllables not the Basis of the Measure-Units — Nor Quantity — But
Accent — Influence of Central-Point, Setting, Parallelism, Organic Form,
Symmetry — Measures Constructed According to Accent — Others —
Primitive Method of Verse-Rhythm —Greek and Latin Verse-Rhythm
— English and its Advantages.

A RT did not originate rhythm nor the satisfaction de-
rivable from it. Long before the time of the first ar-
tists, men had had practical experience of its pleasures.
Long before the age of poetry, or music, or dancing, or
even of fences or schoolboys, the primitive man had sat
upon a log and kicked with his heels, producing a rhythm
as perfect, in its way, as that of his posterity of the pres-
ent who in Africa take delight in stamping their feet and
clapping their hands, and in America in playing upon

RHYTHM IN NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 9

drums and tambourines, in order to keep time to the
movements of dancers and the tunes of singers.

When we come to ask why rhythm should be produced
thus, either by itself or in connection with poetry or
music, in short, why it should be, as seems to be the
case, a natural mode of expression, we cannot avoid
having it suggested, at once, that it corresponds to a
method characterizing all natural movement whatever,
whether appealing to the eye or ear, or whether produced
by a human being or perceived in external nature. There
is rhythm in the beating of our pulses, in the alternate
lifting and falling of our chests while breathing, in our
accenting and leaving unaccented the syllables of our
speech, in our pausing for breath between consecutive
phrases, and in our balancing from side to side and pushing
forward one leg or one arm and then another, while
walking. There is rhythm in the manifestations of all
the life about us, in the flapping of the wings of the bird,
in the changing phases of its song, even in the minutest
trills that make up its melody, and in the throbbings of
its throat to utter them ; in the rising and falling of the
sounds of the wind too, and in the swaying to and fro
of the trees to produce these ; as well as in the flow and
ebb of the surf on the seashore and in the jarring of the
thunder and the zigzag course of the lightning. In fact,
rhythm seems to be almost as intimately associated with
everything that a man can see or hear, as is the beating
of his own heart with his own life. Even the stars, like
the rockets that we send toward them, speed onward in
paths that return upon themselves, and the phrase,
" music of the spheres " is a logical as well as a poetical
result of an endeavor to classify the grandest of all move-
ments in accordance with a method which is conceived to

lO RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

be universal. No wonder then that men should feel the
use of rhythm to be appropriate in art-products modelled
upon natural products. No wonder that, connected as it
is with natural movement and life and the enjoyment
inseparably associated with life, it should seem to the
civilized to be — what certainly it seems to the uncivil-
ized — an artistic end in itself.

Nor is this view of it suggested as a result merely of
superficial observation. It is substantiated by the more
searching experiments of the scientists. There have been
discovered, for instance, in addition to the regular beat of
the heart, and independent of it, rhythmical contractions
and expansions of the walls of the arteries, increasing and
decreasing at regular intervals the supply of blood.
Such processes, which, according to Foster in his " Physi-
ology," page 307, may be observed in the arteries of a
frog's foot or a rabbit's ear, may be checked by cutting
the nerves connecting it and the vaso-motor system ; and
this fact is taken to indicate that there is a rhythmic
form of activity in the nerve-centres themselves. Regular
periodic contractions have been observed, too, in the
hearts of certain animals after being removed from the
body ; and this fact has been attributed to the presence
in them of nerve-gangha, acting according to some char-
acteristic method. Movements of the same kind are
mentioned, also, by Isaac Ott in his " Observations upon
the Physiology of the Spinal Cord," in " Studies from the
Biological Laboratory of Johns Hopkins University," No.
II., as taking place in certain parts of the bodies of dogs,
cats, and rabbits after the severing of the spinal cord ; the
centres for which movements he found to be in this cord,
about the level of the sixth and seventh lumbar vertebrae
in rabbits, and of the fifth lumbar vertebra in dogs.

RHYTHM IN NA TURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 1 1

Such facts with reference to the rhythmical character of
nerve-action seem to indicate a possibility of the same in
mental action. Acting upon this suggestion, Dr. Thaddeus
L. Bolton, Demonstrator and Fellow in Clark University,
conducted a year or two ago a series of very interesting
experiments, which are described by him in a thesis on
" Rhythm " ' published in " The American Journal of
Psychology," Vol. VI., No. 2. " The first and most im-
portant object " of these experiments are said to have
been to determine " what the mind did with a series of
simple auditory impressions, in which there was absolutely
no change of intensity, pitch, quality, or time-interval,"
each separate impression being " indistinguishable from
any or all the others."

After an account of the apparatus producing the clicks,
and also of the individual experiences of the persons
listening to them, Dr. Bolton reaches the following con-
clusions. Of fifty subjects, only two failed to divide the
clicks into groups. Of twenty-one, whose experiences are
tabulated, sixteen, when the clicks were separated by an
average interval of .79S, calculated in thousands of seconds,
formed groups of twos. When the average intervals were
.526, six formed groups of twos with a tendency to form
groups of fours. When it was .542, five formed groups of
fours with a tendency to divide them into groups of twos.
When it was .307, all twenty-one formed groups of fours.
When it was .188, twelve formed groups of fours tending
to groups of eights. When it was .134, seven formed
groups of eights, tending to divide into two groups of

' The author wishes to express his indebtedness to President G. Stanley
Hall, Ph.D., LL.D., for calling his attention to the results of these experi-
ments, and for sending him the thesis in the form in which it was printed in
accordance with the requirements for the university degree of Doctor of
Philosophy.

12 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

fours. When it was .14S, six formed groups of eights.
When it was .125, three formed groups of eights tending
to double this number. When it was .490, seven formed
groups of threes. When it was .149, six formed groups of
threes, tending to groups of sixes. When it was .161, two
formed groups of sixes, tending to divide into two groups
of threes. When it was .169, seven formed groups of sixes.
When it was. 137, three formed groups of sixes tending to
double that number. When it was . 1 27, six noticed no
grouping, but periodic intensive changes in the general
effect, and when it was .156, two formed no groups.

Again, in a case in which the first of groups of sixes was
accented, when the average interval was .323, one out of
three subjects grouped by fours in spite of the accent.
When it was .263, another had a tendency to do the same,
and this accent did not convey a pleasant impression to
any of them until the average intervals was .167 or .137.
At the former rate the six clicks were divided by one
listener into two groups of threes, and at the latter rate
by both the other listeners into three groups of twos.

In a case in which the first of groups of eights was
accented, none formed groups of threes or sixes ; but three
out of five formed groups of fours, when the average in-
terval was .268 ; and when it was .116, all formed groups
of eights, and found them pleasant, though with one
listener there was a tendency to divide this into sub-groups
of fours. In all cases " the five-group," i. e., groups of
fives, " was very difficult to suggest and maintain." As a
rule, however, it was found that " any regular recurrent
impression which is different from the rest " — either by
way of accent or of duration — " subordinates the other
impressions to it in such a way that they fall together into
groups. If the recurrent difference is one of intensity

RHYTHM IIV NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 1 3

{i. e., of accent), the strongest impression comes first in the
grouping and the weaker ones after. If the recurrent
difference is one of duration, the longer impression comes
last,"— an inference drawn from the fact that " all the
subjects found great difficulty in not making a pause after
the long sound which compelled them to begin the group
with the short sound." These two results taken together
show that when accent is made the basis of poetical or '
metrical rhythm, then the .,first syllable or note of a series ,'
— i. e., of a foot or measure — seems the most prominent, |
and that when duration or quantity is made the basis, .
then the last syllable or note seems so. In this latter case,
as Dr. Bolton says, " the most natural foot must be either
iambic or anapaestic " (see Chapter III.). Or, to make a
different application of the principle, the most natural
ending of a line of verse, which ending the voice almost
instinctively prolongs, is the one which is most common
in both our rhymed and blank verse, — namely, a single
accented syllable.

Without, at present, considering any further the results
of these experiments, let us notice that we should have a
right to infer that _ssriea of sounds, in case of slow move-
ment, would be grouped by twos or threes ; but in case
of more rapid movement, that they would be grouped by
fours or sixes or eights or more ; yet always with a ten-
dency to divide the fours into twos, the sixes into twos or
threes, the eights into twos or fours, etc. ; and that this
tendency would become a certainty in case every second
or third sound were either accented or prolonged more
than were the others.

With such facts in mind, let us turn to speech. This
we find composed of syllables each uttered with an in-
dividual stress, which separates it from other syllables;

14 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

but, more than this, we find that every second or third
syllable is invariably accented, and, largely because this
is so, that it is prolonged more than are the other sylla-
bles. The reason for the accent is physiological. The
vocalized breath flows through the throat — as water
through the neck of a bottle — with what may be termed
alternate active and passive movements. The former of
these movements is that which in every second, third,
fourth, or fifth syllable, produces the accent. In our
language all words of more than one syllable have come
to have an accent that is fixed — as distinguished from
variable, which may be affirmed of words in the French ;
and all our monosyllabic articles, prepositions, and con-
junctions are unaccented, unless the sense very clearly
demands a different treatment. These two facts enable
one to arrange any number of our words so that the fixed
accents shall fall, as natural utterance demands that it
_should, on every second, third, fourth or fifth syllable.

Words, however, are not uttered slowly but rapidly.
It follows, therefore, that while, because of the physiologi-
cal necessity of accent, there must be these small groups
of two or three syllables, the movement is rapid enough
for other groups of four, six, eight, and even more syl-
lables, of which these smaller groups of twos or threes
can form subdivisions.

Now, with this fact also in mind, let us turn to speech
again. Here we find that certain smaller groups composed
of combined accented and unaccented syllables are them-
selves combined into larger groups, which are separated
from other larger groups of the same composite character
by the necessity experienced of pausing at certain inter-
vals in order to draw in the breath. In the thesis upon
" Rhythm " that has been mentioned, a correspondence

RHYTHM IN NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 1 5

is suggested, though not indisputably proved, between
the time occupied by these larger groups in a rate of
movement declared' by the listeners to be pleasing,
and the length of their respirations. But whatever may
be true when listening to sounds, there is no doubt
about the influence of respiration when uttering them.
Whenever it is necessary to pause, in order to breathe,
one ^ries of groups must necessarily be separated from
another.

Nature, therefore, furnishes speech with two character- \
istics, — accents after every two, three, four, or five sylla-
bles, and pauses after every four, six, eight, nine, ten,
twelve, or more syllables. Those who have read the
former volumes of this series are now asked to recall what
was said in " The Genesis of Art-Form," and is represented
in the chart on page 3, with reference to the necessity
universally experienced by the mind of conceiving of
effects, if it is to have a clear apprehension of them, as a
unity ; also with reference to the fact that the first result
of an effort to organize into a unity the disorganized con-
ditions of nature as we find it, is in the direction of order.
Upon recalling these statements, it will be recognized how
entirely they are confirmed by the results of the experi-
ments that we have just been considering. What is the
mind trying to do in putting the clicks together in twos,
threes, fours, etc., but trying to make a unity of several of
them ? And when it invariably puts one that is prolonged
or accented after or before another that is not, what is it
doing but securing an effect of unity through making use
of a certain order of recurrence.

Moreover, it was shown in " The Genesis of Art-Form "
that while the mind experiences a necessity of conceiving
of effects as a unity, the materials actually presented to

l6 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

it in nature, out of which it must form this unity, invari-
ably manifest more or less variety, and that their possession
of characteristics some of which, being alike, tend to unity,
and some of which, being unlike, do not, causes the com-
bined result to have an effect of complexity. It is not
necessary to point out how much greater than in the case
of clicks is the extent in which both variety and complexity
characterize the syllables with which the mind must deal
when trying to reduce to unity the elements entering into
poetic rhythm. Nor — to apply to the development of
rhythm the art-methods in the order in which they are given
on page 3 — is it necessary to show how much more care
must be expended upon the methods of securing order in
them, in view of the tendency to confusion invariably atten-
dant upon the fact that some are long and some short,
some accented and some unaccented ; nor does it need to
be argued that this tendency can be counteracted only by a
method of grouping the syllables, making long ones, for
instance, invariably precede short ones, or accented ones
precede unaccented ones ; nor that the grouping to be
effective in securing a general result of unity, must be
made in accordance with the principle of comparison, i. e.,
of putting like with like, — a principle which in science, as
shown in " The Genesis of Art-Form," leads to classifica-
tion, and in art to the analogous results of composition.
In putting like with like, in this case, moreover, notice
that each of the like groups, contains, as a rule,
two opposing kinds of factors— long syllables and short
syllables, or else accented syllables and unaccented.
Each group therefore furnishes an example of contrast as
well as of comparison, and because the two contrasting feat-
ures in it make up a single group, these may be said dso
to complement each other (see page 3).

RHYTHM JlSr NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 1 7

Now, in order to unfold our subject logically, let us go
back for a little, and ask what the naind, when it first
attempts to make rhythm out of speech, will most naturally
select as the basis of comparison in the groups? Will it
be the number of syllables composing them ? or the length
of these syllables ? or the accents, and the intervals of
time between them ? Evidently for successful grouping
■one of these elements must be given what on page 3 is
termed principality, and the others must be given sub-
ordination.

It seems evident that, starting with speech as it is, and
trying to make it rhythmical, the first tendency wiUjiot
be to make the numbers of syllables composing groups the
basis of comparison. It was shown in Chapter VIII. of
" The Genesis of Art-Form " that comparison is practi-
cally applied to results, first, by way of congruity, and after-
wards by way of repetition and consonance ; moreover, that
congruity causes objects — whether sounds or sight — to be
grouped because they are representative of like sentiments.
As applied to language, for instance, weighty, grave, and
dignified conceptions, as shown in Chapter IV. of " Poetry
as a Representative Art," would require slow movement,
whereas light, gay, and trifling conceptions would require
rapid movement. But merely to fulfil such requirements
would, evidently, necessitate no great uniformity in the
numbers of syllables in the groups. As in ordinary prose,
groups of one, two, or three syllables would continue
equally to be representative of the same general senti-
ment ; or else, if they did not, in case the sentiment
should change, as it frequently does, congruity itself would
lead to a change in these numbers. This is a somewhat
scientific way of saying that, wfhen__we__areL, using words
with .main reference to the thought to be expressed, as is

l8 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

always the case when we begin to use rhythm, we do not
put them into measures containing absolutely or approxi-
mately the same numbers of syllables. In rhythmical
prose, for instance, the general effect is congruous ; but
the measures are usually so lacking in uniformity that to
a poetic purist they seem to exemplify incongruity of form,
and, taken together, to manifest what on page 3 is termed
comprehensiveness of form.

For the same reason that, when we begin to construct
rhythm out of ordinary speech, we do not make the
numbers of syllables in the groups the basis of rhythm,
we do not make the quantity of syllables its basis. To
arrange speech in measures uniformly containing long or
short syllables necessitates as late an artistic development
as to arrange it in measures uniformly containing few or
many.

Only one feature now remains unconsidered to which
early attempts to render speech rhythmical can give what
has been termed principality. This .jeaiture is accent.
But notice that accent thus used has a tendency to form
the larger rhythmic groups, such as are developed into
poetic lines, before it forms the smaller ones, such as are
developed into measures. The effect of each accent is
that of one click, and, no matter whether one or many
unaccented syllables come between the accented ones, a
certain number of the latter, so long as all are separated
by like intervals of time, constitute one group such as
forms one line of verse. Later, however, but only later,
it is perceived that the effect of each syllable too is that
of one click, and that, by attaching a certain fixed num-
ber of unaccented syllables to each accented one, smaller
groups can be formed, such as constitute poetic measures.
That this is the natural order of development of the ten-

RHYTHM IN NA TURE, MIND AND SPEECH. I9

dencies that lead to lines and measures, can be confirmed
by the slightest observation of ordinary talking and recit-
ing. In these we always find an inclination to introduce
the accented syllables with approximate regularity. This
inclination needs only a little artistic development, and
they can be introduced with absolute regularity. When
this has been done, the form seems made up of equal
parts determined by the emphasized syllables. Notice that
the only requirement necessary for a rhythmical reading of
the verses on page 20, is to separate the accented syllables
by like intervals of time. The one syllable " Break," for
instance, must be read in the same time as " On thy cold " ;
and the three syllables " Break, break, break," in the same
time as the seven syllables in the line following them. In
other words, to describe this method of reading according
to the phraseology used in the chart on page 3, it is neces-
sary to give principality to the accented syllable, and
through it to the element of like intervals of time, and to
give subordination to the intervening unaccented syllables.
When this is done, moreover, notice that it is necessarily
done in such a way that the accented and unaccented
syllables seem to balance each other.

Notice also that the giving of principality to accent con-
centrates attention upon this as the important considera-
tion, in accordance with the method termed in the chart
central point ; also that the unaccented syllables, many or
few, following the accented appear to be only a setting
accompanying them ; and, in addition to this, that the
accented and unaccented syllables of each group as well
as of the whole lines compared each to each, sustain rela-
tions that can be described as those oi parallelism. Read-
ing the verses as indicated, we shall perceive also that, as
a whole, they produce, as related more particularly to

20 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

comparison, the effect of organic for-m and as related to
congruity, the effect of symmetry, concerning all which
methods, consult " The Genesis of Art-Form," Chapters
X and Z^i.

It is worth while to observe, too, that any purist, ancient
or modern, insisting upon the necessity in poetry of having
a certain number of syllables in either a measure or a line,
or upon having an accent upon a certain one or another
of these syllables, would have great difficulty in proving in
what sense his law could be carried out in this kind of verse.
Notice, however, that the explanations of all these apparent
departures from rules are simple enough, when we get
under the rules to the principles which they exemplify.

Break, break, break,
On thy cold gray stones, oh se'a.
And oh, that my tongue could utter
The thoughts that arise in me.

Break, Break, Break — Tennyson.

Similar principles are evidently carried out in the fol-
lowing, every alternate line of which contains, as a rule,
the same number of accents.

Four accents Day after day, day after day,

Three " We struck, nor breath nor motion.

Four " As idle as a painted ship

Three " Upon a painted ocean.

Four " Water, water, everywhere,

Three " And all the boards did shrink ;

Four " Water, water, everywhere,

Three " Nor any drop to drink.

Four " I closed my eyelids and kept them close.

Three " Till the balls like pulses beat ;

Four " For the sky and the sea and the sea and the sky

Four " Lay like a load on my weary eye.

Three " And the dead were at my feet.

— The A ncient Mariner : Coleridge.

RHYTHM .IN NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 21

The kind of versification used here is sometimes spoken
of as if it were originated by Coleridge. As a fact, how-
ever, when adopted by him it was not new even to
English poetry, as may be recognized by comparing with
it the quotation from Milton, on page 39. Nor was it
new in any sense. It was merely a return to one of the
oldest of forms— such, for instance, as is exemplified in
Hebrew poetry — aiTording thus one more of many proofs
that frequently a result is artistic, for the sole reason that
it fulfils exactly a primary and instinctive requirement of
nature.

But it may be asked, have we not derived our system
of versification from that of the classic languages, and was
this not based upon quantity rather than upon accent ?
Certainly ; but, while observing these facts let us observe
also that the classic system was not an elementary but a
late development of rhythm. In oui>#rst chapter it was
pointed out that in rhythm the infli/ences of f orce and of
duration are practically inseparable.l/'Poetic measures, as
we have now found, result, primarilfr, from force given to
syllables at regularjntervals of durayon. But careful ob-
servatioiTwill reveal that, as a rule, the application of this
force necessarilyjnyplyes also an increase in the duration
of the accented syllable. This increase is made in y
unconsciously ; in music it is made consciousl}2<^and this
was the case in the classic metres, furnishing one proof,
which is confirmed by others, that they were results of an
effort to intone verses — i. e., to make music of them. But
besides this let us notice another fact. As accent is
necessarily accompanied by an increase in quantity, it is
impossible that our own metres also, though determined
by accent, should not manifest some traces of the influ-
ence of quantity. See what is said on page 34 of the
necessity of considering this in the construction of even

22 RHYTHM AND HARMON V IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

English hexameters. But if our metres show some in-
fluence of quantity, the converse must be true. The
Greek metres must show some influence of accent. Do
they ? " It is easy to see," says Dr. Schmidt, in his
" Rhythmic and Metric of the Classic Languages," " that
a Greek verse can and must be pronounced throughout
with the prose accents, and that this can be done without
any conflict arising between the prose accents and the
quantity of syllables and their ictus in poetry. The fol-
lowing verse, therefore, may be read thus :

Av-6^a ftoc iv - va - jre, Mov-aUt no - kv- t^o-nov. Si fia-Xa jToX~Xi,

" Here, as it happens, the high tone and the ictus coin-
cide in the first measures, but not in the fifth and sixth.
But in English, as before remarked, the high tone is
almost always joined to the ictus. . . . The following
verse is accented in reading as follows :

- ^ J J I J J J ^ ^ J J I S J

" Hail to the chief who in tri - umph ad - van - ces.

It is true that in constructing verse the Greeks and
Romans subordinated accent to quantity. Unlike our-
selves, if in composing they came to a word in which long
quantity and the ordinary accent did not go together,
they seem always to have been at liberty to disregard
the accent, and occasionally, too, they could change the
quantity. In fact, they could change both quantity and ac-
cent in order to produce a rhythmic effect when chanting,
analogous to that which we produce when reading. In

RHYTHM IN NATURE, MIND, AND SPEECH. 23

serious poetry, it was lawful for them to produce results
not wholly unlike that in the third rhyme of the follow-
ing, the classic quality of which some of us hitherto may
not have recognized :

For he might have been a Roosian,
A French, or Turk, or Proosian,

Or perhaps I-tal-i-an.
But in spite of all temptations
To belong to other nations,

He remains an Englishman.

— Pinafore : Gilbert ,

Our poets, on the contrary, have gone back to the
primitive methods, antedating those of Greece, and base
the rhythms of their verse on the accents of speech.
The result, as compared with the language of our prose,
is more natural than that reached by the other method ;
and in its way is fully as artistic. Nor, in other regards,
is English inferior to the classic tongues in its capabilities
for artistic treatment. Owing to an extensive use of ter-
minations in nouns, articles, pronouns, adjectives, and
verbs, in order to indicate different grammatical relation-
ships, the Greeks and Romans could change the order of
words in a sentence without changing its meaning. In
their language, " The dog ate the wolf," with slightly
"varied terminations, could read, " The wolf ate the dog."
For this reason, they could alter their phraseology, in
-order to accommodate it to the requirements of metre, as
is not possible for us ; and so far they had an advantage
■over us. Nevertheless, for some reason, when they came
to put their words into verse, as every schoolboy who
tries to scan knows, they produced a language which,
like the present French poetic diction, sounded unlike

24 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

that of conversation. Even supposing, with some schol-
ars, that in reading they did not scan their verses as we
do now, nor even chant them invariably, as some infer
was the case, their poetic language was not the same as
their spoken language. Aristotle tells us, when mention-
ing things which it is legitimate for the poet to do, that
he can invent new words, that he can expand old ones,
either by lengthening vowels or by adding syllables, that
he can contract them by shortening vowels or omitting
syllables, and that he can alter them in various other
ways. Spenser and others since him have applied similar
methods to English poetic diction ; but, at present, such
changes, except in rare instances, are not considered ad-
missible, and this because they are recognized to be un-
necessary. The fact that they are not admissible in our
language, and were admissible in the classic languages,
proves that, in one regard at least, our language is superior
to them as a medium of metre. The following is a typical
English stanza. In it there are no changes from ordinary
prose in the arrangement, spelling, or punctuation of any
of the words :

He will hold thee, when his passion shall have spent its novel force,
Something better than his dog, a little dearer than his horse.

— Locksley Hall : Tennyson.

In this chapter we have been considering rhythm as
related to certain general underlying principles, an
acquaintance with which, as has been intimated, is all
that is absolutely necessary for either reading or writing
poetry. But, for a full understanding of the subject, the
formal systems of metre and versification into which, in
our language as in others, these principles have been
developed, ought also to be examined. This will be
done in the chapters following.

CHAPTER III.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE.

The Art Methods, especially Repetition, as Causing Groups of Syllables in
Measures — Double and Triple Measures — Initial, Terminal, Median,
Compound, and Double Initial and Terminal — Significance of Each
Measure — Art-Methods as Causing Groups of Measures in Lines — He-
brew Parallelism, and Greek — The Couplet — The Csesura — Lines of
One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, and More Measures — Examples of
Them — The Iambic Tetrameter — The Iambic Pentameter, Heroic
Measure, Blank Verse — The Classic Hexameter^English Hexameter —
Children of the Lord's Supper — Another Example — A Translation
from the Iliad — -The Alexandrine.

TT will be noticed that, according to the chart on page
3, the methods already mentioned are all those that
are absolutely necessary for the production of rhythm,
the methods further developed from these being more
particularly connected with harmony. At the same time,
even these latter methods are only more subtle manifesta-
tions of the former, and certain traces of them are appa-
rent even in rhythm. This is especially true of repetition,
and the methods immediately connected with it. The
artistic tendency to comparison needs only to be intensi-
fied, as applied to the form, and it will cause accented
syllables in all cases to be separated by exactly the same
number of unaccented syllables ; and will also cause ex-
actly the same number of both accents and syllables to
be placed in each fine. When this has been done, — even
before it has been done as we have noticed in the poetry

25

26 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN FOE TRY AND MUSIC.

already quoted — each accented syllable, together with
one or more unaccented, seems to constitute one group ;
and a certain number of these groups to constitute one
line. As a result, the line can be regularly measured by
the number of the groups into which it is divided. For
this reason they are termed measures, and, owing to a sup-
posed correspondence of movement between the use of
one measure after another, and that of the feet in walk-
ing, they are also termed feet.

In general, we may divide all possible measures into
two classes, namely, those that are double and those that
are triple. The first are made up of feet of two syllables,
every other of which is accented, e. g. :

When the | hours of | day are | numbered.

It also includes feet of four syllables, only one of which
receives a strong accent ; though the second from it may
receive a subordinate accent. The general effect, there-
fore, of this measure, which is sometimes termed quadru-
ple, is that of a doubled double measure, e. g. :

Roses are in | blossom and the | rills are filled with | water-cresses.

Triple measures contain three syllables, e. g. :

Cannon to | right of them, | cannon to | left of them.

But besides being distinguished from one another by
the number of syllables composing them, measures differ
according to the syllable in them— whether the first,
second, third, or fourth — that receives the accent. This
method of difference in connection with the other just
noticed leads us to find six, or, in case we consider the
quadruple measures other than modifications of the

DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE. 27

double, eight kinds of measures (see page 103). Here
they are with names indicative of the methods of forming
them, in connection with which are given also the terms
of Greek origin ordinarily assigned to them. But as these
terms apply to arrangements of quantity rather than of
accent, they frequently fail to describe accurately the
English measures. Hence the use here of the new
terms.

Initial or initial double measure is accented on the first
syllable, and corresponds, if composed of one long syllable
followed by one short, to the Greek trochee or choree ; if
of two long, to the Greek spondee.

When the | h6urs of | diy are | numbered.

Terminal or terminal double measure is accented on
the second syllable, and corresponds, if composed of one
short followed by one long syllable, to the Greek
iambus.

Aming | thy fan | cies, tell | me this.

Initial triple measure, if composed of one long followed
by two short syllables, is the same as the Greek dactyl.

6ut of the 1 cities and | into the | villages.

Median or medial triple measure, i. e., triple measure with
the accent on the middle syllable, if composed of one
short, one long, and one short syllable, is the same as the
Greek amphibrach.

There c4me to | the sh6re a | poor exile | of Erin.

Terminal triple measure, if composed of two short sylla-
bles followed by a long one, is the same as the Greek
anapaest.

If our land | lord supply | us with b^ef | and with fish.

28 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Compound or compound triple measure is accented on
the first and third syllables, and, if composed of one long,
one short, and one long syllable, is the same as the Greek
amphimacrus.

Nearer my | G6d to th^e | E'en tho' It | be a crAss.

Initial quadruple, double initial, or di-initial measure is a
form, as already said, of double measure, and is usually
the same as the Greek ditrochee, e. g. :

Rises ire in | bl6ssom 4nd the | rills are filled with | witer-crtees.

Terminal quadruple, double terminal or di-terminal meas-
ure is another form of double measure, and is usually the
same as the Greek diiambus, e. g. :

The king has c6me | to m^hal us.

In " Poetry as a Representative Art," Chap. VI., the
sentiments which each of these measures is fitted to repre-
sent are pointed out by showing the analogy between it
and a corresponding elocutionary method of expression.
There is no necessity of repeating here what is fully ex-
pressed there. Nor is it necessarily connected with those
questions concerning form which we are now considering.

We have found that rhythm, besides being determined
by the difference between accented and unaccented
syllables, necessitated by the flow of the breath through
the larynx, is also determined by the difference between
exhaling and inhaling the breath ; and that, as the first
requirement leads to the grouping of syllables in meas-
ures, the second leads to the grouping of measures, or
rather, primarily, of the accents determining the measures,
into lines. Of course, no one supposes that those who
originated lines had any conception of their having any

DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE. 29

connection with the necessity of stopping in order to
breathe. Art is a development of natural tendenci£s,_^fj_
which we are not always conscious. As a rule, it is only
after science has brought these to light that they are recog-
nized as sustaining the relationship, which they do, to the
forms in which they have developed. There is no doubt,
however, about the relationship in this case. Indeed,
Aristotle, in his " Rhetoric," hints at the same cause as
underlying our modern divisions in prose, for he says that
the period must be divided into clauses, easily pronounced
at a breath, £z avaTtvevaToi.

It is evident that to even an unconscious application of
a principle such as this, we need only add the artistic
tendency toward comparison, as manifested in putting like
with like, and it will lead to that which is now acknowl-
edged to be the earliest known form resembling versifica-
tion, namely, the parallelism used by the Hebrews. This
is so called because it contained two like or parallel state-
ments of like or approximate length, as in the following:

The heavens declare the glory of God,
And the firmament showeth his handiwork.

Day unto day uttereth speech,

And night unto night showeth knowledge.

Their line is gone out unto all the earth,
And their words to the end of the world.

— Ps. xix., I, 2, 4.

We find the same method of arrangement in the early
Greek recitative poetry also, " which," says Schmidt, in his
" Rhythmic and Metric of the Classic Languages," " con-
sists of two sentences which either have equal lengths, or
the second of which is catalectic or falling," i. e., shorter by
a single syllable, " or is even shorter by an entire measure."

30 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

The connection between this form of parallelism and
the artistic method of the same name in the chart on page
3, will be immediately recognized. Equally so, will be
the fact that, from the use of expressions of approximate
length, the tendency to repetition will lead, as in the case
of measures, to expressions of exactly the same length.
In connection with this, it is evident that the allied ten-
dencies, already mentioned, toward counteraction, comple-
ment, balance, and parallelism have a legitimate outlet in
that wellnigh universal development from these original
parallelisms which is found in the couplet. In this, two
lines of exactly the same length end, as if for the purpose
of emphasizing this fact, with the same sound. Notice
most of the quotations on pages 31 and 32.

Of course poets, having begun to construct couplets of
one length, would naturally, for various reasons — to satisfy
a desire to manifest ingenuity, or, better, to express certain
sentiments, — come to construct them of many different
lengths.- The length of some, too, would be too great to be
pronounced in a single exhalation. In such cases a reader
would have to stop and breathe near the middle of the
line. This fact has led to the use, in verses containing
three or more measures of the pause which is termed the
caesura, from a Latin word meaning division. Here are
lines with the caesura indicated by a bar :

Brought from the wood | the honeysuckle twines
Around the porch | and seems in that trim place
A plant no longer wild ; | the cultured rose
There blossoms, strong in health, | and will be soon
Roof high ; | the wild pink crowns the garden wall,
And with the flowers | are intermingled stones
Sparry and bright, | rough scatterings of the hills.

— Excursion, 6 : Wordsworth,

DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE. $1

Exactly where the caesura pause should be, depends
largely upon the sense. It need not necessarily come in
the middle of the line, e. g. :

— Death his dart
Shook, I but delayed to strike, though oft invoked.

— Paradise Lost, ii : Milton.

Have found him guilty of high treason. | Much
He spoke and learnedly.

— Henry VIII., ii. ; i : Shakespeare.

To indicate the number of the measures placed in a
single line, the Greeks used the terms manometer, meaning
a line containing one measure, and dimeter, trimeter, tetra-
meter, hexameter, etc., meaning, respectively, a line of two,
three, four, and six measures. Here are lines of each
kind, in which all the measures are full or regular. For
lines of the same kind shortened or lengthened by a half
measure, see page 46. The first example under each head
below is in initial measure, and the second in terminal.
Some of the measures are double, and some triple, but, of
course, could be either :

Monometer :

Trochaic, Ringing,
Swinging.

— Beautiful Snow: y. W. Watson.

AnapasHc, How it swells,
How it dwells.

— The Bells: Poe.

Dimeter •

Dactyl and trochee. Melodies thrilling
Tenderly filling
Thee with their thrilling.

— Thread and Song : y, W, Palmer,

32 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Iambic At thy first sound

True hearts will bound.

— The Great Bell Roland : R. S. Bowker.

Trimeter :

Trochaic, Go where glory waits thee,
But when fame elates thee.

—Go Where Glory Waits Thee . T. Moore.

Iambic, Bell never yet was hung

Between whose lips there swung
So brave and true a tongue.

— The Great Bell Roland : R. S. Bowker.

Tetrameter :

Trochaic, Day of wrath, that day of burning.
All shall melt to ashes turning,
All foretold by seers discerning.

— Dies Irc^ : tr. by A, Coles.

Iambic, I hate to learn the ebb of time

From yon dull steeple's drowsy chime.

— Lay of the Imprisoned Huntsman : Sir IV. Scott.

Pentameter :

Trochaic, Dead and gone the days we had together.

— Past Days . Swinburiu.

Iambic, The curfew tolls the knell of parting day.
The lowing herd winds slowly o'er the lea.

— Elegy in a Country Churchyard : Gray.

Hexameter :
Dactyls and Spondees, Simply and solemnly now proceeded the Christian
service,
Singing and prayer and at last an ardent discourse
from the old man.
— Children of the Last Supper : Longfellow.

DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE. 33

Iambic, Flies o'er the bending corn, and skims along the plain.

— Essay on Criticism : Pope.

Heptameter :

Trochaic, Ours the lightning was that cleared the north and lit the
nations.

— Athens, an Ode : Swinburne.

Jambic, The stranger hath thy bridle-rein, — thy master hath
his gold, —
Fleet-limbed and beautiful, farewell ; thou 'rt sold, my
steed, thou 'rt sold.

— The Arab to His Favorite Steed : C. E. Norton.

Octometer :

Trochaic, They are dying, they are dying, where the golden corn
is growing ;
They are dying, they are dying, where the crowded
herds are lowing.

— Ireland : D. F. MacCarthy.

The line of four terminal measures, or the iambic tetra-
meter, is supposed to be the easiest of English measures
in which to write, and the use of it is very general, as, for
instance, in Byron's " Mazeppa," and in Scott's " Mar-
mion " and " Lady of the Lake."

The line of five terminal measures, or the iambic pen-
tameter, is sometimes called the heroic measure, partly
because of the supposed dignity and gravity of its effect,
and partly because poets have become accustomed to
use it in long compositions, as, for instance, in Dryden's
and Pope's translations from Homer. In these poems
it includes rhymes, but in a majority of such cases it
does not. It is the only form of English verse, too, of
Tvhich this can be afifirmed, for which reason when we

34 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

speak of English blank verse we usually mean, unless
the phrase is further qualified, pentameter blank verse.
Among the Greeks and Romans the effects produced
by our blank pentameter verse were produced by an
hexameter invariably containing two different kinds of
measures — one the spondee composed of two syllables
long in quantity ; and the other the dactyl, composed
of one long syllable followed by two short ones. As
stated in " Poetry as a Representative Art," most of
the English imitators of this metre fail to reproduce its
easy flow of movement. One reason for this is that
our language, largely because it lacks the grammatical
terminations of the classic tongues, contains fewer short
syllables then they ; and, in the place of the only foot of
three syllables allowed in their hexameter — the dactyl,
containing one long and two short syllables — our poets
often used more than one long syllable. Another reason
is that notwithstanding the poverty of our language in
short syllables, many seem to think that the hexameter
necessarily requires a large number of dactyls. But Greek
and Latin lines are frequent, containing few of them, e.g.z

dpvvfiEvoi ^v TE TpvxTjy xal vodTov iraipoov. — Homer.
lUi inter sese magna vi brachia toUunt — Virgil.

Both the causes mentioned serve to make our English
hexameters slow and heavy. Besides this, most of those
who write them, misled by the notion that they must
crowd as many syllables as possible into their lines, are
tempted to use too many words, and thus to violate
another principle not of poetry only, but of rhetoric.

DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE. 35

Take the following, for instance, from Longfellow's
" Children of the Lord's Supper " :

Weeping he spake in these words : and now at the beck of the old man,
Knee against knee, they knitted a wreath round the altar's enclosure.
Kneeling he read them the prayers of the consecration, and softly,
With him the children read ; at the close, with tremulous accents.
Asked he the peace of heaven, a benediction upon them.

An English verse representing accurately — what is all
that is worth representing — the movement of the classic'
hexameter, would read more like this, which, itself, too
would read better, did it contain fewer dactyls ; but to
show the possibilities of our verse these have been inten-
tionally crowded into it :

Weeping he told them this, and they, at the villager's bidding.

Knitting with knee to knee a wreath at the altar's railing,

Knelt as he softly led in the prayer of the consecration.

In it the children joined, until in a tremulous accent

Closing the prayer he had asked for the Lord's benediction upon them.

This passage from Longfellow is a typical specimen of
what is called English hexameter. Here is another (not
so good), from Frothingham's translation — in many re-
spects an admirable one — of Goethe's " Hermann and
Dorothea."

Thitherward up the new street as I hasted, a stout-timbered wagon
Drawn by two oxen I saw, of that region the largest and strongest.
While with vigorous step a maiden was walking beside them ;
And, a long staff in her hand, the two powerful creatures was guiding,
Urging them now, now holding them back, with skill did she drive them.

Not until such lines have been reduced to a form more
like the following, can we be prepared to debate whether
or not the effects of the classic hexameter can be repro-

36 RH YTHM AND HARMONY IN POE TRY AND M USIC.

duced in English. Those, too, who choose to compare
these lines with the original, will find this translation more
literal than the last.

Now my eyes, as I made my way along the new street there,
Happened to light on a wagon, built of the heaviest cedar,
Drawn by a pair of steers of the stoutest stock and largest.
By their side a maid with vigorous step was walking.
Holding a long staff up and guiding the strong pair onward.
Starting them now, then stopping them, deftly did she drive them.

In these last lines, there are more spondaic verses —
verses, that is, in which the fifth foot contains two sylla-
bles — than were often used in the classic hexameters.
But this fact does not change the general effect of the
movement. Matthew Arnold says of the following, that,
" it is the one version of any part of the Iliad which in
some degree reproduces for me the original effect of
Homer." It is a translation from the third book made
by Dr. Hawtrey of Eton College :

Clearly the rest I beheld of the dark-eyed sons of Achaia,

Known to me well are the faces of all ; their names I remember.

Two, two only remain, whom I see not among the commanders, —

Castor fleet in the car, — Polydeukes brave with the cestus, —

Own dear brethren of mine, — one parent loved us as infants.

Are they not here in the host, from the shores of loved Lacedaemon ?

Or though they came with the rest in ships that bound through the waters,

Dare they not enter the fight, or stand in the council of heroes,

All for fear of the shame, and the taunts my crime has awakened ?

The line of six terminal measures, or the iambic hex-
termeter, is called the Alexandrine from a poem on
Alexander the Great in which it is said to have been used.
As a rule, it is only employed in odes in alternation with
two lines which are trimeters (see page 56) and at the
ends of the Spenserian stanzas (see page 69), but in

DEVELOPING MEASURE AND VERSE. 37

order to impart additional importance or dignity, it is
occasionally introduced into other poems, most of the
lines of which, like those of the Spenserian stanza are
iambic pentameters, e. g. :

Their fury falls ; he skims the liquid plains,
High on his chariot, and with loosened reins.
Majestic moves along, and awful peace maintains.

— Translation of the ^neid : Dryden.

In this chapter we have noticed how the general prin-
ciples underlying rhythm develop into formal systems of
metre and versification, — into measures containing just so
many syllables, and into lines containing just so many
measures. In the remaining chapters devoted to this
subject, we shall find nature and the variety characteriz-
ing it gradually asserting themselves, more and more,
until these formal systems are made, through artistic
methods, to produce effects corresponding to those which
were shown in Chapter II. to be due to merely natural
methods of applying the underlying rhythmic principles.
In other words, we shall find here a noteworthy illustration \
of the fact, often exemplified, that the last result reached ;
through artistic methods is not essentially different from I
that which in certain circumstances antedates any study j
of art whatever.

CHAPTER IV.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING VARIETY IN MEASURE
AND LINE.

Natural Conditions Necessitating Variety — Two Ways of Introducing this
into Measures — By Changing the Number of Syllables in the Measures
and Lines — Examples — By Omitting Syllables Necessary to a Com-
plete Foot — Necessity of Reading Poetry in a Way Analogous to Ren-
dering Words in Music — Unused Possibility in English Blank Verse
— Suggestions of it — An Example of it and a Criticism — Omitting Syl-
lables at the Ends of Lines — Adding them in Rhymed Lines — In Blank
Verse — Feminine and Double Endings of Lines — Examples of Regu-
larly Metrical Lines with Syllables Omitted and Added — Changing the
Numbers or the Places of Accents in the Lines — In Rhyming Verses —
In Blank Verse — Example of Greater Regularity — Accent and its Ab-
sence in the Final Foot : End-stopped Lines — Run-on Lines : Weak
and Light Endings — Forms of Broken Blank Verse — Shakespeare's Use
of Run-on Lines.

'T^HE conditions of natural speech are such that it is
not possible, even if desirable, to arrange words so
as to produce effects of unity without those of variety ;
or of comparison by the way of exact repetition (see page 3)
without those of alteration, and even of more alteration
than is needed to secure that form of counteraction, cotn-
plement, and balance which we find, as has been intimated,
in the alternation between the accented and unaccented
syllables of the measure, or between lines of different
lengths, or rhymes, as in the following, e. g. :

38

DEVELOPING VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE. 39

Two barks met on the deep mid-sea.

When calms had stilled the tide ;
A few bright days of summer glee,

There found them side by side.

— The Meeting of the Ships : Felicia Hemans

Of introducing variety into the measures there are two
principal ways : first, by changing the number of unac-
cented syllables or the kinds of feet in the line ; and
second, by changing the number of accents or the places
•of the accents in the line. In both cases, the line is uttered
in the same relative time ; and this fact constitutes the
basis of unity. In addition to this, in the first case, each
foot is uttered in the same time ; and, in the second case,
each line usually contains the same number of syllables.

The first method secures through a slightly different
process the same result which we have already noticed as
a development of tendencies preceding the conscious
formation of any measures whatever. Notice how the
few lines in the two quotations following contain alter-
ations sufficient to introduce almost every one of the
■different measures that were mentioned on pages 27 and
28. The names of measures printed opposite each line,
refer to only the main measures in it, or to some one
measure especially worthy of attention.

Initial Dreams that made her moan and weep.

Terminal As on her bed she lay in sleep.

Terminal Triple There is not wind enough in the air
Terminal To move away the ringlet curl

Terminal Triple From the lovely lady's cheek.

There is not wind enough to twirl
Terminal Triple The one red leaf, the last of its clan,
Median Triple That dances as often as dance it can ;
Initial Triple Hanging so light, and hanging so high,
Terminal Triple On the topmost twig that looks up to the sky.

— Cristabel : Coleridge

40 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

The poets contemporaneous with Coleridge, and imme-
diately preceding him, were too much in bondage to the
supposed requirements of the classic metres to venture
upon such deviations from them as are in this quotation.
But long before his time, older poets had composed in.
the same way. Look at this :

Terminal And let some strange mysterious dream

Initial Triple Wave at his wings in airy stream

Terminal Of lively portraiture displayed

Initial Softly on my eyelids laid.

Initial Triple And as I wake sweet music breathe

Terminal Above, about or underneath,

Initial Triple Sent by some spirit to mortals good.

Terminal Triple Or the unseen genius of the wood.

— / Penseroso : Milton.

Still greater variety is sometimes produced, as in the
" Break, break, break " of Tennyson (see page 2o), by
omitting some of the syllables in a line that apparently
are necessary in order to render even the shortest foot
complete. The reason why they can be omitted is because
if the sense be such that a word must be uttered slowly,
then, even though it contain but a single syllable, it may
be given the same time as a foot containing two or three
syllables. To illustrate what is meant, let us use musical
notation. Most of us know that three quarter notes \^
receive the same time as one half note followed by a quar-
ter note, thus, ^, or by a dot, thus f' ; or by a quarter
rest, thus, p , and that two eighth notes JJ receive the
same time as one quarter note, I". Now suppose that,
adopting the method of music, we say that the metre of
the following is composed in three-quarter time ; in other
words, that there are three quarter notes in each measure.
Then the durations of the syllables — we are not now
dealing with their accents — may be indicated thus :

VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE.

41

r r

are arms,

r r

in war,

1

' r

i r r

r r

is cold I

up - on

the wolds.

9

i r

i r

P

yon

star.

r r r r

My or - na - ments

r r fi r

My pas - time is

r r

My bed

r r

My lamp

— 7"^^ Wandering Knighfs Song : Lockhart,

r r ' z r r r z z r

The world may go round, The world may stand still,

^ r r r r c r

But I can milk and mar • ry,

i r ir

Fill pail,

ir r r r c f

can milk

and mar - ry.

— The Milkmaid's Song : Sidney Dobell

Even when all the syllables needed in order to consti-
tute a conventional poetic foot are present, a poem, if its
sense is to be brought out, requires to be read in a way
analogous to that in which the words would be rendered
if set to music. In the following, notice the difference in
effect between emphasizing or prolonging every alternate
syllable as the metre requires, and slighting or giving less
time to such syllables as follow the musical rests.

At I midnight, | ^ in his | guarded | tent, ^ | ^■

The I Turk ^ | ^ was | dreaming | ^ of the | hour, ^- \ ^

When I Greece, ^ | ^ her | knee in | suppliance | bent, ^ | ^
Should I tremble | ^ at his | power ; t' | ^

42 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

In 1 dreams, ^■ \ ^ through | camp and | court, he | bore ^ | ^■
The I trophies | 7^ of a | conque | ror. ^ | ^

In I dreams, his | song of | triumph | heard ', ^\^
Then | t' ^ | wore his | monarch's | signet | ring, | t' | 7'
Then | t' 7^ | press'd that | monarch's | throne, ^ | ^ a | King ; 7^ | ^
As I wild his j thoughts, % \ *f- and | gay of | wing, ^ | ^■

As I Eden's | garden | bird. ^ \ ^
At I midnight, | ^ in the | forest- | shades, !f \ !f-

Boz- I zaris | ranged his | Suliote | band, ^ \ ^
True I ff as the | steel 7- | ^ of 1 their ^ | tried ^ | blades, ^ | ^

Heroes | 7^ in | heart ^ \ ^ and | hand ; 7^ | t'
There | ^ had the 1 Persian's | thousands | stood, ^ \ !f-
There | ^ had the | glad ^ | earth !f- \ drunk their | blood ^ | ^

On I old Pla- I tsea's | day : ^ | ^
And I now 7^ | ^ there | breathed that | haunted | air t' | 7^
The I sons 7^ | t' of | sires who | conquered | there, 7^ | 7^
With I arm to | strike ^ \ ^ and | soul to | dare, 7^ | ^

As I quick ^^ | 7^ as | far 7^ | 7^ as | they. ^

— Marco Bozzaris • Byron.

All the examples of changes in metre given in the para-
graphs preceding the last, were taken from rhyming verse.
Occasionally in pentameter blank verse, too, we find an
extra unaccented syllable added to a terminal or iambic
foot, as in the following :

And chiefly thou oh Spirit that dost prefer
Before all temples the upright heart and pure.

— Par. Lost, I : Milton.

Of rebel angels, by whose aid aspiring
To set himself in glory above his peers.

— Idem,

Our English writers of blank verse, however, have rec-
ognized to only a slight extent the possibilities of metre
constructed according to the principles exemplified in the
above quotations from Coleridge, Milton, Lockhart, and

VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE. 43

Dobell. Yet this form would seem to be particularly
adapted to the requirements of the drama, especially of
the melodrama and comedy. Notice the general effect
of the following, when arranged in lines each containing
three accents.

Or ever
The silver cord be loosed,
Or the golden goblet broken ;
Or the pitcher be broken at the fountain,
Or the wheel broken at the cistern.

— Ecchsiasies, xii, ; 6.

Here, converted from some of Shakespeare's prose in
" Henry V.," iii. ; 6, are lines containing four accents :

Bid him therefore consider of his ransom ;

Which must proportion the losses we have borne ;

The subjects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested ;

Which in weight to re-answer his pettiness would bow under.

And here, from the prose of Sir Walter Scott's " Kenil-
worth," Part II., Chapter XIV., is a consecutive conversa-
tion containing lines of three accents :

Countess of Leicester. Good friend, I pray thee begone
And leave me.

Mike Lambourne. And so I will, pretty one,

When we are tired of each other's
Company — not a jot sooner.
Nay, scream away if you like it.
I have heard the sea at the loudest,
And I mind a squalling woman
No more than a miauling kitten —
Damn me, I have heard fifty
Or a hundred screaming at once
When there was a town stormed.

44 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

Blank verse of this kind, not suggested by the author
for the first time in this volume, seems to have recom-
mended itself to Robert Bridges also, who has carried out
the idea practically in what he describes as " a line of six
stresses, written according to the rules of English rhythm,"
in which "a natural emphasizing of the sense gives the
rhythm " :

At last, Chremes, it came to this ; This poor young fellow.
Continually hearing the same thing put so strongly to him.
Gave in ; he thought my age and due regard for his welfare
Were likely to show him a wiser and a more prudent course.

— The Feast of Bacchus ■ R. Bridges.

This passage would have been more successful, per-
haps, had both the measures and the lines been shorter.
When as many as four syllables come between those that
are accented — an arrangement which is never allowable
in ordinary verse — the ear loses the sense of form. More-
over, for reasons brought out in Chapters IV. and X. of
" Poetry as a Representative Art," a long line, especially
if containing long measures, usually suggests slowness of
movement, which is not in congruity with the subject
here presented.

The changing of the number of the syllables in the feet
is very common at the ends of lines that rhyme, in which
case, as will be noticed, it involves also a change in the
length of the line. In the following lines, all but the
accented syllable is omitted from the final measure. As
a result, one line ends with an accent, and the next line
begins with one. In reading, therefore, as much time is
given to each single rhyming syllable as to any other two
syllables. Of course, this fact serves to emphasize the
rhyme, and, by doing so, to increase the effect of the verse-
grouping, e. g. :

VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE. 45

Hope that blessed me ; bliss that crowned
Love that left me with a wound,
Life itself, that turned around.

— Bertha in the Lane : E. B. Browning.

The same effect occurs at the end of the second Hne of
the following :

Lives of great men all remind us

We can make our lives sublime,
And departing, leave behind us

Footprints on the sands of time.

— Psalm of Life : Longfellow.

When the lines do not begin with accents, an unac-
cented final syllable, also, in the place of an accented one,
has the effect of emphasizing the rhyme and the verse-
form. This is because of the evident change in rhythm
which the reading necessitates. In these cases, we might
say that the change was produced by adding a syllable
instead of omitting it, e. g. :

So strength found first a way.
Then beauty flowed, then wisdom, honor, pleasure ;
When almost all was out, God made a stay,
Perceiving that alone of all his treasure.

Rest in the bottom lay.

— The Gifts of God : Geo. Herbert.

Altho' I enter not,

Yet round about the spot

Ofttimes I hover :
And near the sacred gate
With longing eyes await

Expectant of her.

— At the Church Gate : Thackeray,

As a rule, pentameter blank verse ends with an ac-
cented syllable, but almost every long quotation from

46 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

verse of this character will reveal one or more lines like
the following :

I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

— Julius Casar, iv., 3 : Shakespeare.

And here is a line ending with three syllables :

Not to relent is beastly, savage, devilish.

— Richard III., i., 4 : Idem.

In blank verse, endings like the above, in which the
extra syllables belong to the same word as the syllable on
which the accent falls, are termed feminine. If the same
effect be produced by adding a new word to the line, the
ending is termed double. Notice the last line of the fol-
lowing. The first two endings are termed masculine.

Such harmony is in immortal souls :
But while this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close us in we cannot hear it.

— Merchant of Venice, v. , i : Idem.

We have already, on page 3 1 , noticed the regular forms
of monometers, dimeters, trimeters, etc. Let us now
notice the forms that they assume as influenced by
changes in the number of syllables in their final feet.

Monometer, less one unaccented syllable :

Bells.

— The Bells . Poe.

Monometer, with added unaccented syllables :

Adversity .
With misery.
— The Deceived Lover : Sir Thomas Wyatt.

VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE. 47

Dimeter, less unaccented syllables :

Drawing my breath,
Looking for death.

— The Deceived Lover : Sir T. Wyatt.

Dimeter, with one added unaccented syllable :

A baby was sleeping.
Its mother was weeping.

— The Angel's Whisper: Samuel Lover.

Trimeter, less unaccented syllables :

Go to thy rest, fair child.
Go to thy dreamless bed.

— Go to Thy Rest - Anon.

Trimeter, with one added unaccented syllable :

Between the dark and the daylight
When night is beginning to lower.

— The Children! s Hour : Longfellow.

Tetrameter, less one unaccented syllable :

None that I have named as yet
Are as good as Margaret.

— Choosing a Name : Mary Lamb.

Tetrameter, with one added unaccented syllable :

A little in the doorway sitting
The mother plied her busy knitting.

— A Mother's Love : T. Burbidge.

Pentameter, less one unaccented syllable :

Lord of light, whose shrine no hands destroy.

— Nine Years Old : Swinburne.

Pentameter, with one added unaccented syllable :

Say one soft word, and let us part forgiven.

— The Princess . Tennyson.

48 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

Hexameter, less one unaccented syllable :

High beyond the granite portal arched across.

— A Ballad of Sark : Swinburne.

Hexameter, with an added unaccented syllable :

Shall the wages of righteous-doing be less than the promise given ?
— Hell and Heaven : Sir Edwin Arnold.

Heptaraeter, less one unaccented syllable :

Far and wide the waste and ravin of their rule proclaim
Change alone the changeless lord of things, alone the same.

— The Mill Garden : Swinburne.

Heptameter, with one added unaccented syllable :

We wake with a sense of a sunrise that is not a gift of the sundawn's

giving,
And a voice that salutes us is sweeter than all sounds else in the world

of the living.

— Sunrise : Swinburne.

Octometer, less one unaccented syllable :

Comrades, leave me here a little while, as yet 't is early morn.
Leave me here, and when you want me sound upon the bugle horn.

— Locksley Hall : Tennyson.

The second way of introducing variety into the rhythm
is by changing the accents, — either their numbers in the
lines, or their places, while preserving as a basis of unity the
same relative time in which the lines are uttered, or the
same number of syllables of which they are composed.
Sometimes, though not often, this method is used in
rhymed lines, as in the following. Notice also how the
effect of variety in the rhythm here is increased by the
pauses in the reading necessitated by the sense :

VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE. 49

The sky is changed — and such a change. O night
And storm and darkness, ye are wondrous strong,
Yet lovely in your strength, as is the light
Of a dark eye in woman ! Far along
From peak to peak the rattling crags among
Leaps the live thunder. Not from one lone cloud
But every mountain now hath found a tongue,
And Jura answers, through her misty shroud,
Back to the joyous Alps who call to her aloud.

— Childe Harold : Byron,

It is chiefly, however, in blank verse that we find this
method of securing variety. Where, as in this next quo-
tation, as also in the sixth line of the last, these variations
are determined by the thought, and the rhythm is accom-
modated to the requirements of sense as well as of sound,
we have, for this reason, an additional excellence. See
■" Poetry as a Representative Art," Chap. IV.

Nine times the space which measures day and night
To mortal men, he with his horrid crew
Lay vanquished, rolling in the fiery gulf,
Confounded, though immortal : but his doom
Reserved him to more wrath : for now the thought
Both of lost happiness and lasting pain
Torments him : round he throws his baleful eyes
That witnessed huge affliction and dismay,
Mixed with obdurate pride and steadfast hate ;
At once as far as angels' ken he views
The dismal situation waste and wild ;
A dungeon horrible on all sides round.
As one great furnace, flamed ; yet from those flames
No light, but rather darkness visible
Served only to discover sights of woe,
Regions of sorrow, doleful shades where peace
And rest can never dwell.

— Paradise Lost, 1 : Milton.

Modern poets, as a rule, do not indulge in as much
metrical variety of this sort as did Milton. Some, indeed,

50 RH YTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR V AND MUSIC.

cause the accents to fall on every other syllable with
absolute regularity, depending for variety upon only the
pauses that must necessarily be made in order to bring
out the sense. It cannot be denied that there is a charm
of its own produced by such a style, and that for young;
po.ets there is safety in it. Only a great master of rhythm
like Milton could violate so many lesser laws and yet
fulfil the greater ones. As a good example of a more
regular style, notice the following :

Above the garden's glowing blossom-belts,

A columned entry shone and marble stairs,

And great bronze valves, embossed with Tomyris

And what she did to Cyrus after fight.

But not fast barred : so here upon the flat

All that long morn the lists were hammered up.

And all that morn the heralds, to and fro.

With message and defiance went and came.

— The Princess : Tennyson.

There is another way of changing the number of the
accents or the places of the accents in the line. It is
found chiefly among dramatic writings. In all the quota-
tions in blank verse that have been made, there has been
an accent, as well as a pause required by the sense, on the
final foot, as in this :

The primal duties shine aloft like stars.

— Excursion : IVordsworth.

A line ending thus is called technically an end-stopped line.
A line, on the contrary, in which there is no accent on
the final foot, and no pause required there by the sense,
is termed a run-on line. Notice the first and second lines
of this :

VARIETY IN MEASURE AND LINE. 51

Since what I am to say must be but that

Which contradicts my accusation, and

The testimony on my part no other

But what comes from myself, it shall scarce boot me.

Winter's Tale : iii., 2 : Shakespeare.

Run-on lines closing with conjunctive words, like and, as,
if, nor, with, are also termed weak-ending ; and those
closing with words like since, while, though, and with
pronouns like who, which, what, and with auxiliaries like
am, has, is, would, are termed light-ending.

In Shakespeare there are a large number of run-on
lines, especially in his later works. It seems as if, instead
of being regarded as forms of our ordinary pentameter
blank verse, they should be regarded as forms of .broken
blank verse, such as we find in Goethe's " Faust." This,
in reality, is what they are, though, in the English, they
are not divided into lines and printed so as to show the
fact. Sidney Lanier, in his " Science of English Verse,"
divides and prints the following lines so as to reveal their
rhythm. As one object of all division of poetry into
lines is to reveal rhythm, it might seem desirable always
to print such verses in this way. It is to be argued
against this course, however, that, were it done, the prin-
ciple of putting like effects with like would not be carried
out as appHed to the lengths of lines.

Since what I am to say

Must be but that which contradicts my accusation,

And the testimony on my part

No other but what comes from myself

It shall scarce boot me.

Here is another set of run-on lines :

52 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

Thou shalt not lack
The flower that 's like thy face, pale primrose, nor
The azured harebell like thy veins, no, nor
The leaf of eglantine.

— Cimbeline, iv., 2: Idem,

This, too, might be arranged thus :

Thou shalt not lack
The flower that 's like thy face, pale primrose,
Nor the azured harebell like thy veins.
No, nor the leaf of eglantine.

Shakespeare's later works, as contrasted with his earlier
ones, show more maturity of thought, and in places more
grandeur of style. But as he grew older he did not rewrite
them, line by line, as carefully as he did at first. Had he
done so, it is possible that he would have removed many of
these run-on lines. In themselves, they are a violation of
the law of the form of verse in which he was writing ;
and there is page after page of his poetry proving that he
could have produced every desirable effect in rhythm
without resorting to them.

CHAPTER V.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING STANZAS AND TYPICAL
VERSE-FORMS.

Rhythm as so far Explained — Necessity in Each Poem of a Standard Meas-
ure or Line — Illustrating the Art-Methods of Principality, Massing,
Interspersion, Complication — Examples — Tendency to Make Long Lines
just Double the Length of Short lines — The Couplet, through Compli-
cation and Continuity, Passes into the Stanza — Rhythm as Related to
the Tunes of Verse, and Causing Correspondences between Lines of
Verse and Lines of Vision — Rhythm as Involving Consonance, Disso-
nance, Interchange, and Gradation — Abruptness, Transition, and
Progress — Slow and Fast Progress as Represented in Poetic Rhythm — -
Rhythmic Possibilities of Stanzas of Different Forms — Stanzas of Three
Lines — Four — Five — Six — Seven — Shorter Chaucerian — Eight — Nine,
the Spenserian — Longer Chaucerian — The Sonnet — First Type of — Sec-
ond — Third — French Forms of Verse — Triolet — Rondel — Rondeau —
Kyrielle — Rondeau Redouble — Ballade — Pantoum — Villanelle — Chain
Verse — Sestina — Sicilian Octave — Virelai — Chant Royal — Ode — Comic
Effects — Incongruity between Thought and Form — In the Form only
— In Endings of Lines — In Rhymes — In Pauses.

■pROM what has been said thus far, it will be perceived
that rhythm is an effect produced by a consecutive
series of sounds, or multiples of sounds, which, in them-
selves, may be varied and complex ; but each series of
which is of like duration. In other words, it is a result,
as is everything that is artistic, of grouping according to
some one principle — to that of time in this case — the like
partial effects of unlike complex wholes. In poetry, as we
have found, like divisions of time are measured off into

53

54 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

feet by accents upon certain syllables, which are usually
accompanied in the same group by other syllables, and
into lines by the same or approximate numbers of ac-
cents. As for the feet, the essential matter is that, in
each group, the syllables, whether one or many, be given
exactly the same amount of time. So, as a rule, with
lines. To read rhythmically verses like those on page 20,
the voice needs to pause a little longer after the shorter
lines ; doing which, it will make them appear of the same
length as the longer ones. It is a method of reading, too,
that any person with an ear for rhythm will adopt instinc-
tively and unconsciously.

Notice now that, in case measures or lines be varied in
character, they cannot well be read in accordance with the
requirements of rhythm, unless measures and lines of
some one character predominate to a sufficient extent to
establish a standard by which to gauge the method of
reading the whole. If, for instance, a line be intended for
the time appropriate for double measures, whose two
syllables are naturally uttered in a shorter time than the
three of triple measures, it must convey a suggestion of
this fact by being chiefly composed of double measures.
Poe, in his essay on "The Rationale of Verse," says with
reference to all alterations in the general structure of the
verse : " The rhythm, designed, should be commenced and
continued without variation, until the ear has had full
time to comprehend what is the rhythm " — a statement
which he illustrates by quoting the opening of a poem
by C. P. Cranch, viz. :

Many are the thoughts that come to me

In my lonely musing,
And they drift so strange and swift

There 's no time for choosing.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 55

In this, many is treated as one syllable, and are and the
are treated as second and third syllables in a triple meas-
ure, — a method of treatment that would answer after the
prevailing rhythm had been suggested, but not before this.
Evidently in Poe's opinion the first line should read
somewhat as follows •

Many thoughts, they come to me.

The general truth thus indicated reveals the necessity,
in connection with repetition and alteration, for that de-
velopment ol principality v^hich. will be found, in the chart
on page 3, under the name of massing. By this is meant
the bringing together of many features of a single kind so
as, through the accumulation of them, to create a single
general impression. A subordinate departure from the
regular movement, characterizing series of measures or
lines, evidently involves the method of interspersion (see
page 3), and, in case there be much departure of this kind,
it is evident that unity can only be preserved by causing
the features manifesting it to complement or balance the
J>rincipal features by way of complication. As applied to
measures, the quotations from Coleridge and Milton on
pages 39 and 40 will sufficiently illustrate this method.
As applied to lines, inasmuch as the very word complica-
tion means, primarily, a folding together of visible lines,
its appropriateness by way of analogy to audible verses of
■different structure or length will be at once recognized.
Here are triple measures in one line, and, in the next
Jine, alternating with it are only double measures :

Come from my first, ay come.

The battle dawn is nigh :
And the screaming trump and the thundering drum

Are calling thee to die.

— The Camp Bell: W. M. Praed.

56 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Here are alternating lines of different lengths, but with
the same measures :

Stop, mortal. Here my brother lies, —

The poet of the poor.
His books were rivers, woods, and skies.

The meadow and the moor.

— A Poet's Epitaph : Ebenezer Elliott.

And here the endings of different alternate or consecutive
lines give them different general effects :

Hail to the chief who in triumph advances !

Honored and blest be the evergreen Pine !
Long may the tree in his banner that glances,
Flourish the shelter and grace of our line !
Heaven send it happy dew,
Earth lend it sap anew,
Gayly to bourgeon, and broadly to grow.
While every highland glen
Sends our shout back again,
Roderigh Vich Alpine, dhu, ho ! ieroe !

— Song of Clan-Alpine : Sir W. Scott.

Notice, however, wherever lines of different lengths are
thus used together, the almost invariable tendency that
there is to make the shorter lines exactly one half the
length of the longer lines. This is, evidently, only an-
other manifestation of that which, according to the experi-
ments in rhythm mentioned in Chapter II., led to the
dividing of groups of eight clicks into groups of fours,
and groups of fours into groups of twos. As illustrating
this form of varying the lengths of lines, notice, besides
the last two quotations, the following :

Yet the ear distinctly tells.
In the jangling
And the wrangling,
How the danger sinks and swells,
By the sinking or the swelling in the anger of the bells.

— Tlu Bells : For.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 57

When the grenadiers were lunging
And like hail fell the plunging
Cannon shot ;
When the files
Of the isles
From the smoky night encampment bore the banner of the rampant
Unicorn.

— The Old Continentals : G. H. McMaster.

Thus, notwithstanding apparent obstacles, does the ar-
tistic tendency to put hke eiTects with like or with exact
multiples of like still assert itself.

We have already noticed that the couplet is developed
from parallelism. The stanza is manifestly a result of em-
ploying, in addition to parallelism, the methods that have
just been mentioned, a result, that is, of massing forms of
lines and couplets according, sometimes, to co^nplicated
methods; and always in such ways as to give them cer-
tain definite limits of continuity (see page 3), different
stanzas dividing whole poems into large groups, just as
different lines divide the stanzas and different feet divide
the lines. The canto, a larger division composed of sev-
eral stanzas, is merely a result of convenience, or of logical
requirement in the arrangement, and has nothing to do
with its effects considered rhythmically.

As will be shown in Chapter XII., and therefore need
not be anticipated here, the arrangement of words in
measures and lines, according as these are long or short,
has much to do with causing those upward and down-
ward movements of the voice at long or short intervals,
which determine the character of the tunes of verse.
It is this inseparable blending of the effects of metre,
verse, and tune that makes it appropriate to compare, as
some are fond of doing, the movements of lines of differ-
ent rhythm, in connection with their accompanying tunes.

58 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

to different kinds of lines in the arts of sight. Double
measures, for instance, in which the unaccented syllable
is long, especially if this be a single monosyllabic word,
which itself, might, if rightly situated, receive an accent,
may be said to cause a monotonous movement, resem-
bling that of a straightly drawn or only slightly waving
line. Notice this effect in the first quotation on page 60.
Double measures, however, in which the unaccented sylla-
ble is short, may be said to cause a direct upward and
downward movement resembling that of a sharply drawn
angular and zigzag line. Notice the second quotation
on page 60. Triple measures, on the other hand, in
which the voice on the first syllable following the accented
one is neither so high as on the accent, nor so low as on
the second syllable following the accent, may be said to
cause a gradation of movement, resembling that of a
line curving. Notice the third quotation on page 60.
As applied to groupings larger than those of measures,
lines of verse, in the degree in which they are long and
are also of uniform length, may be said to increase the
generally monotonous and straight effect of double
measures of long quantity. Notice again the first quo-
tation on page 60. On the contrary, shortness of lines
and irregularity in their length may be said to increase
the angularity of effect. Notice the last two quotations
on page 56, and the one on page 57. Once more,
length of lines and uniformity in length may be said
to increase the rounded, rolling effect of triple measures
(notice on page 64 the hymns in the metres termed
Elevens and Twelves); while shortness of lines, owing
to the pauses at the ends of them, and especially
if accompanied by occasional double measures, may be
said to increase the angularity of these rounded

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 59

effects. Notice the second quotation on page 56, and
the second on page 61.

These correspondences between effects in Hnes of verse
and in Hnes of vision have, of course, a theoretical rather
than a practical interest. More important to the logical
unfolding of our subject is the fact that the necessary-
connection between effects of rhythm and of harmony
indicated at the opening of the last paragraph involves
in rhythm, for the same reasons as in harmony, a ful-
filment of the methods of consonance, dissonance, and in-
terchange (see page 3). Still more clearly, perhaps, does
it involve gradation. This fact, as applied to changes
of pitch in triple measures, was mentioned in the last
paragraph. With reference to its application in all kinds
of measures to changes in force, it may be said that certain
experiments in the thesis on " Rhythm " mentioned in
Chapter II. showed that where three clicks, all equally
loud, formed a group, the first of the three appeared to
be the louder ; the second, less loud ; and the last the
least loud of all. In the same way, of course, poetic
measures not only of two but of three syllables must
involve apparent if not real gradations in intensity.

Notice also gradations in regularity, as revealed in the
effects of lines in the quotation from Christabel on page
39. These lines start with double measures, then intro-
duce more and more triple measures till, finally, all the
measures become triple. More sudden changes of metre,
whether in' the middles of lines, or at the ends, as illus-
trated on page 45 involve, of course, the method of abrupt-
ness ; while the comparative length of both measures and
lines is intimately connected with the general methods of
transition zxiA progress. It is the character of the rhythm,
for instance, that causes an effect of slow progress in the
iollowing :

6o RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

Roll on, ye stars ; exult in youthful prime ;
Mark with bright curves the printless steps of time ;
Near and more near your beamy cars approach,
And lessening orbs on lessening orbs encroach.

— Pleasures of Hope : Campbell.

And of rapid progress in this :

Singing through the forest ;

Rattling over ridges ;
Shooting under arches ;

Rumbling over bridges ;

— Railroad Rhymes . J. G. Saxe.

There is always a tendency to slow movement in meas-
ures containing vowels of long quantity, as well as in long
lines made up of these measures. With any kind of quan-
tity, however, the tendency in the direction of rapid
movement is increased in the degree in which the verses
contain rhymes either at the ends of lines or of half lines.
As stated in " Poetry as a Representative Art," it is a
characteristic of rhyming words to emphasize strongly the
ideas expressed through them. They convey the impres-
sion, therefore, that something important has been said ;
and if they occur frequently, they suggest that many im-
portant things have been said, and said in a short time,
or — what is equivalent to this — that the thought in the
poem is moving on rapidly, an effect that could not be
produced by the same thoughts differently worded. Of
course, it follows that the nearer together the rhymes are,
the more rapid seems to be the movement. Compare
these two stanzas, and notice the quickening of the move-
ment in the second of them :

The baron returned in three days' space.

And his looks were sad and sour,
And weary was his courser's pace.

As he reached his rocky tower.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 6l

My lady each night sought the lonely light

That burns on the wild Watchfold,
For from height to height the beacons bright

Of the English foemen told.

— Eve of St. John : Scotl.

The rhythmic possibilities of different forms of stanzas,
as determined by the number and length of their lines
and of the feet composing these, can be best brought out
by bringing together some of those in most common use,
and allowing the reader to compare them. It needs to be
pointed out, however, that the exact length of the stanza
does not determine the character of the rhythm as much
as does the general or the comparative length of the
different lines composing it. This will be recognized
upon reading the poetry on pages 173 and 174. Here are
triplets — stanzas composed of three lines. In both ex-
amples, we have terminal or iambic measures :

Whoe'er she be

That not impossible she

That shall command my heart and me.

— Wishes for the Supposed Mistress . R. Crashaw.

Who rowing hard against the stream
Saw distant gates of Eden gleam,
And did not dream it was a dream.

— Two Voices : Tennyson.

The quatrain, or stanza of four lines, is the most com-
mon of any. Let us notice different examples of this, as
used in our hymns ; and first. Short metre, as it is termed :
A terminal (or iambic) trimeter, with the third line a
tetrameter :

Give me, O Lord, a place

Within thy blest abode,
Among the children of thy grace,

The servants of my God.

— Stennett.

62 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

Common metre : A terminal (or iambic) tetrameter fol-
lowed by a trimeter. This is the same as our ordinary
ballad measure :

Thanks to my God for every gift

His bounteous hands bestow ;
And thanks eternal for that love

Whence all those comforts flow.

— Heginbotham,

Long metre : A terminal (or iambic) tetrameter :

From all that dwell below the skies
Let the Creator's praise arise :
Let the Redeemer's name be sung,
Through every land, by every tongue.

— Watts.

Notice how different is the movement of the same meas-
ure when the rhymes are differently arranged :

Strong Son of God, immortal Love

Whom we, that have not seen thy face.
By faith and faith alone embrace.

Believing where we cannot prove.

— In Memoriam : Tennyson.

Sevens : So named from the number of syllables in the
line; an initial (or trochaic) tetrameter less one unac-
cented syllable :

Whom have I on earth below ?
Thee, and only Thee, I know :
Whom have I in heaven but thee ?
Thou art all in all to me.

— C. U'esUy.

Eights : A triple terminal (or anapaestic) trimeter :

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 63

Oh ! drive these dark clouds from the sky,

Thy soul-cheering presence restore ;
Or bid me soar upward on high,

Where winter and storms are no more.

— Newton,

Tens : A terminal (or iambic) pentameter :

Abide with me ! Fast falls the eventide.
The darkness deepens — Lord, with me abide !
When other helpers fail, and comforts flee.
Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me !

~H. T. Lyte.

Tens : A terminal triple and double (or anapaestic and
iambic) tetrameter :

Who — who would live alway, away from his God ;
Away from yon heaven, that blissful abode,
Where the rivers of pleasure flow o'er the bright plains.
And the noontide of glory eternally reigns ?

— Muhlenberg .

Elevens and tens : An initial double and triple (or dac-
tylic and trochaic) tetrameter :

Hail to the brightness of Zion's glad morning.
Long by the prophets of Israel foretold ;
Hail to the millions from bondage returning.
Gentiles and Jews the blest vision behold.

— Hastings.

Tens and elevens : A terminal triple and double (or
anapaestic and iambic) tetrameter :

Oh, worship the King all-glorious above,
And gratefully sing his wonderful love ;
Our Shield and Defender, the Ancient of days.
Pavilioned in splendor, and girded with praise.

— Grant.

64 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

Elevens : A terminal triple and double (or anapaestic
and iambic) tetrameter :

The Lord is my shepherd, no want shall I know,

I feed in green pastures, safe-folded I rest ;
He leadeth my soul where the still waters flow,

Restores me when wandering, redeems when oppressed.

— Montgomery,

Twelves : A terminal triple or double (anapaestic or iam-
bic) tetrameter, with one added unaccented syllable :

Thou art gone to the grave ! but we will not deplore thee.
Though sorrow and darkness encompass the tomb ;
The Saviour hath passed through its portals before thee.
And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.

— Heber.

Here are stanzas of five lines of unequal length and char-
acter ; the first with initial measures.

Hail to thee, blithe spirit.

Bird thou never wert.
That from heaven or near it,

Pourest thy full heart
In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.

— To tJu Skylark : Shclky.

These others have terminal measures :

O World ! O Life ! O Time,
On whose last steps I climb,

Trembling at that where I have stood before ;
When will return the glory of your prime ?

No more, — O nevermore !

— A Lament : Shelley.

O what a damp and shade

Doth me invade !

No stormy night

Could so afflict or so affright.

As thy eclipsW light.

— A Parodie . Geo. Herbert.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 65

How sweet the answer Echo makes

To music at night,
When roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away o'er lawns and lakes

Goes answering light.

— Echoes : T. Moore.

The day is cold and dark and dreary ;

It rains and the wind is never weary ;

The vine still clings to the mouldering wall.
But at every gust the dead leaves fall.

And the day is dark and dreary.

— The Rainy Day ; Longfellow,

Among stanzas of six lines we find many of our hymns
•again, e. g.. Eighths, sevens and fours, containing lines
Tvith four or else two initial (or trochaic) measures :

Yea, Amen ! let all adore thee,

High on thine eternal throne !
Saviour, take the power and glory ;
Make thy righteous sentence known !

Oh, come quickly.
Claim the kingdom for thine own !

— Brydges.

Hallelujah metre, containing lines with three terminal (or
iambic) measures and four in the last couplet :

Awake, ye saints, awake !

And hail this sacred day ;
In loftiest songs of praise

Your joyful homage pay :
Come bless the day that God hath blest,
The type of heaven's eternal rest.

— Cotterill,

Short hallelujah metre, containing lines with three terminal
(or iambic) measures, but containing four in the third,
fifth, and sixth :

66 RHYTHM AND HARMON V IN FOE TR Y AND MUSIC.

Thus star by star declines,

Till all are passed away,
As morning high and higher shines,

To pure and perfect day ;
Nor sink those stars in empty night —
They hide themselves in heaven's own light.

— Montgomery,

Long common metre, containing terminal (or iambic) tet-
rameters and trimeters :

Oh, could I speak the matchless worth,
Oh, could I sound the glories forth.

Which in my Saviour shine !
I 'd soar, and touch the heavenly strings,
And vie with Gabriel, while he sings

In notes almost divine.

— Medley,

To these let us add a few others :

Spring is cheery.

Winter is dreary.
Green leaves hang, but the brown must fly ;

When he 's forsaken

Withered and shaken.
What can an old man do but die ?

— Spring, It is Cheery : T. Hood.

Then when the gale is sighing.
And when the leaves are dying.

And when the song is o'er,
Oh, let us think of those
Whose lives are lost in woes,

Whose cup of grief runs o'er.

— Moan, Moan, Ye Dying Gales : H. Neele.

Even as the sun with purple-color'd face

Had ta'en his last leave of the weeping mom,
Rose-cheek'd Adonis hied him to the chase ;

Hunting he loved, but love he laughed to scom :
Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him.
And like a bold-faced suitor 'gins to woo him.

— Venus and Adonis : Shakespeare.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 6j

Now let us notice stanzas of seven lines. The first has
initial measures :

Jesus, victim, comprehending

Love 's divine self-abnegation,
Cleanse my love in its self-spending,

And absorb the poor libation !
Wind my thread of life up higher,
Up through angels' hands of fire ! —
I aspire while I expire ! —

— Bertha in the Lane .- Mrs. Browning.

The second, a hymn in the metre called Sixes and fours,
has terminal measures :

Our father's God ! to thee.
Author of liberty,

To thee v^e sing :
Long may our land be bright
With freedom's holy light ;
Protect us by thy might.

Great God, our King

— S. F. Smith.

There are certain stanzas of a definite type that ought
to be noticed here. The following is one. It is called
the royal rhythm, or the shorter Chaucerian. By repre-
senting each different rhyme, as is customary with writers
on these subjects, by a different letter of the alphabet,
the rhyme-order may be indicated thus : a b a b b c c.

Alias ! distance ! thou hast no champi6n
Ne fyghte canstow nought, so weylawey
But he, that starf for our redempcifln.
And bond Sathan (and yit lyth ther he lay)
So be thy stronge champioun this day
For, but if crist open miracle kythe,
Withouten gilt thou shalt be slayn as swythe.

— The Tale of the Man of Law : Chaucer.

68 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

Stanzas containing eight lines are very common. Of
those that are not merely a result of doubling stanzas of
four lines, the more frequently used are as follows; of
hymns, those in the metres called Sevens and sixes :

Rivers to the ocean run,

Nor stay in all their course ;
Fire ascending seeks the sun,

Both speed them to their source ;
So a soul that 's born of God,

Pants to view his glorious face,
Upward tends to his abode.

To rest in his embrace.

Sevens, sixes, and eights :

Saviour, Prince, enthroned above,

Repentance to impart.
Give me, tlirough thy dying love.

The humble, contrite heart :
Give what I have long implored,

A portion of thy grief unknown ;
Turn, and look upon me. Lord !

And break my heart of stone.

-Seagrave.

-Anon.

Eights and sevens :

Let our mutual love be fervent :

Make us prevalent in prayers ;
Let each one esteemed thy servant

Shun the world's bewitching snares.
Break the tempter's fatal power,

Turn the stony heart to flesh,
And begin from this good hour

To revive thy work afresh.

— Newton.

Here is another stanza used by Chaucer, the rhyme-
order of which IS a b a b b c b c :

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 69

I wol biwaille, in manere of tragedie
The harm of hem that stoode in heigh degree,
And fillen so that ther has no remedie
To brynge hem out of hir adversitee ;
For certein, whan that fortune list to flee,
Ther may no man the cours of hire withholde,
Lat no man truste on bhnd prosperitee ;
Be war by thise ensamples trewe and olde.

The Monk's Tale : Chaucer.

Of stanzas containing nine lines, the Spenserian, so
called because adopted from the Italian by Spenser, and
first used in English in his " Fairie Queene " is exactly
like the above, with the exception of an addition at its
end of a single Alexandrine line of six measures. See
page 37. The rhyme-order here is a b a b b c b c c.

From thence into the sacred Church he broke,

And rob'd the Chancell, and the deskes downe threw.

And Altars fouled, and blasphemy spoke.

And th' Images, for all their goodly hew,

Did cast to ground, whilest none was them to rew ;

So all confounded and disordered there :

But, seeing Calidore, away he flew,

Knowing his fatall hand by former feare ;

But he him fast pursuing soone approached neare.

Fairie Queene : Spenser.

Owing to the number of like rhymes necessitated by
this stanza, it is difificult to write with success. But it has
been used by many modern poets, noticeably by Burns,
in his " Cotter's Saturday Night," by Keats, in his " St.
Agnes Eve," and by Byron, in his " Childe Harold," e.g. :

To sit on rocks, to muse o'er flood and fell,
To slowly trace the forest's shady scene.
Where things that own not man's dominion dwell,
And mortal foot hath ne'er or rarely been ;

70 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

To climb the trackless mountain all unseen,
With the wild flock, that never needs a fold ;
Alone, o'er steeps and foaming falls to lean ; —
This is not solitude ; 't is but to hold

Converse with Nature's charms, and view her stores unrolled.

— Childe Harold : Byron.

The longer Chaucerian stanza also contains nine lines.
It differs from the shorter Chaucerian by the addition of
the second and fifth lines, making the rhyme-order a aba
a b b c c, e.g.

The ordre of compleynt requireth skyfully,

That yf a wight shal pleyne pitously

Ther mot be cause wherfore that men pleyn,

Other, men may deme he pleyneth folely.

And causeles ; alas, that am not I !

Wherefore the grounde and cause of al my peyn,

So as my troubled witte may hit ateyn,

I wol reherse, not for to have redresse.

But to declare my grounde of hevynesse.

— The Complaint of Mars : Chaucer.

There are no other typical stanzas that need to be con-
sidered here, aside from the typical forms of poems of
which they constitute parts. The most important of these
poems is not divided into stanzas at all, though it is some-
times described as a poem of one stanza. This is the son-
net. It is always made up of fourteen lines, of which,
when it is constructed according to rule, it may be said
that the first four introduce the subject or theme ; that
the second four develop this through introducing new ma-
terial, either by way of specification, explanation, elabo-
ration, or illustration, and that the last six make a specific
or general application of the whole, with the point of all,
if possible, expressed in the final line. In his " System of
English Versification," Everett says of this form :

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. ^I

' ' The Sonnet, like the Spenserian stanza, was borrowed from the Italians.
Petrarch is reckoned the father of it. It is still more difficult of construction
than the Spenserian stanza ; for, besides requiring a great number of
rhymes, it demands a terseness of construction, and a point in the thought,
■which that does not. In the Sonnet, no line should be admitted merely for
ornament, and the versification should be faultless. Sonnets, like Spenserian
stanzas, are somewhat affected ; and this is to be attributed to the age in
which they were introduced, when far-fetched thoughts and ingenious ideas
■were more in vogue than simple and natural expression."

Besides Petrarch, the foremost writers of sonnets among
the Italians are Dante, Michael Angelo, Tasso, Ariosto,
and Vittoria Colonna ; and among the English, Spen-
ser, Shakespeare, Milton, Wordsworth, Keats, and Mrs.
Browning. Three types are indicated in TomUnson's
" Sonnet : Its Origin, Structure, and Place in Poetry," in
accordance with which the most of the Italian sonnets
were composed.

The rhyme-order of the first was a b b a ab b ac de c de.
Here is an English example of this :

Cyriack, whose grandsire on the royal bench
Of British Themis, with no mean applause,
Pronounced, and in his volumes taught, our laws,
Which others at their bar so often wrench ;
To-day deep thoughts resolve with me to drench
In mirth that, after, no repenting draws ;
Let Euclid rest, and Archimedes pause,
And what the Swede intend, and what the French.
To measure life learn thou betimes, and know
Toward solid good what leads the nearest way ;
For other things mild heaven a time ordains.
And disapproves that care, though wise in show.
That with superfluous burden loads the day,
And, when God sends a cheerful hour, refrains.

— To Cyriack Skinner : Milton.

The rhyme-order of the second type was ab b a ab b a
£ d c d c d; e. g.:

72 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC^

A flock of sheep that leisurely pass by,
One after one ; the sound of rain, and bees
Murmuring ; the fall of rivers, winds and seas
Smooth fields, white sheets of water, and pure sky ;
By turns have all been thought of ; yet I lie
Sleepless, and soon the small birds' melodies
Must hear, first uttered from my orchard trees ;
And the first cuckoo's melancholy cry.
Even thus last night, and two nights more, I lay,
And could not win thee, sleep ! by any stealth :
So do not let me wear to-night away :
Without thee what is all the morning's wealth ?
Come, blessed barrier betwixt day and day.
Dear mother of fresh thoughts and joyous health.

— To Sleep : Wordsivorth.

The rhyme-order of the third type was abbaabba
c d e d c e ; e. g.:

Good Kosciusko ! thy great name alone

Is a full harvest whence to reap high feeling ;

It comes upon us like the glorious pealing

Of the wide spheres — an everlasting tone.

And now it tells me that in worlds unknown,

The names of heroes, burst from clouds concealing.

Are changed to harmonies forever stealing

Through cloudless blue, and round each silver throne.

It tells me too that on a happy day.

When some good spirit walks upon the earth.

Thy name with Alfred's and the great of yore.

Gently commingling gives tremendous birth

To a loud hymn that sounds far far away

To where the great God lives forevermore.

— To Kosciusko : Keats.

There are, however, many sonnets written in our lan-
guage which resemble the Italian only in the general length
and number of their lines. Neither the thought nor the
rhymes are arranged as in the original. This does not
prevent their being sometimes very beautiful ; but it does

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 73

prevent their having the exact effect of that which they
are supposed to reproduce. Here is an example of one
of these :

When Letty had scarce passed her third glad year,
And her young artless words began to flow,
One day we gave the child a colored sphere
Of the wide earth that she might mark and know
By tint and outline all its sea and land.
She patted all the world ; old Empires peeped
Between her baby fingers ; her soft hand
Was welcome at all frontiers ; how she leaped
And laughed and pratted, in her pride of bliss.
But when we turned her sweet unlearned eye
On our own isle, she raised a joyous cry,
" Oh yes, I see it ; Letty's home is there."
And while she hid all England with a kiss.
Bright over Europe fell her golden hair.

— Letty s Globe : Charles Tennyson Turner.

Perhaps it is in place here to introduce specimens of some
of the French Forms of Verse as they are called — not be-
cause all were originated by that people ' ; but because
they are used by them. Though presenting, in the main,
thought that is lighter than that in the sonnet, they are all,
like it, constructed according to certain prescribed rules.
These do not apply, however, to the length of the lines,
which in all of them seems to be a matter of indifference.
On pages 55, 56, 63, 107, and 196 of the " Genesis of Art-
Form," comments will be found with reference to the
arrangements both of the thought in them and of the
peculiar forms of repetition characteristic of their lines

' Most of these forms seem to have been used by the predecessors of
Gower and Chaucer, if not, as some assert, by these poets themselves.
John Shirley, about 1440, made a collection of Ballades, Roundels, Virelais,
etc. See Gleeson White's Introduction to " Ballades and Rondeaus."

74 RH YTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

and rhymes. Here it will suffice merely to ask the reader
to note carefully their rhythmic effects. Owing to the
difficulty of finding, in all cases, examples exactly fulfill-
ing the requirements of these forms, two of the following
poems are the same as those quoted in that book.

The Triolet has eight lines, the first, fourth, and seventh,
and the second and last of which are the same. The
rhyme order is a b a a a b a b ; e. g.:

Easy is the Triolet

If you really learn to make it.
Once a neat refrain you get,
Easy is the Triolet.
As you see. — I pay my debt

With another rhyme. Deuce take it.
Easy is the Triolet,

If you really learn to make it.

— Triolet: W. F. Henley.

The Rondel, a term used to distinguish the earliest form
of the modifications of the same in the more modern ron-
deau and roundel, contains fourteen lines in three stanzas,
the first, seventh, and thirteenth lines, and the second,
eighth, and fourteenth of which are the same. The rhyme
order — marking the refrain by capital letters — is usually
A B a b — b a A B — a b a b A B ; but sometimes it is
A B b a — a b A B — a b b a A. The following, as will be
perceived, blends both forms.

I love you dearly, O my sweet !

Although you pass me lightly by.

Although you weave my life awry.
And tread my heart beneath your feet.

I tremble at your touch, I sigh
To see you passing down the street ;
I love you dearly, O my sweet !

Although you pass me lightly by.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 75

You say in scorn that love's a cheat,

Passion a blunder, youth a lie.
I know not. Only when we meet

I long to kiss your hand and cry,
" I love you dearly, O my sweet !

Although you pass me lightly by."

— Rondel: J. H. McCarthy.

The Rondeau contains thirteen Hnes in three stanzas,
with an unrhymed refrain at the end of the second and
third stanzas, which refrain is the same as the clause with
which the poem opens. Tlie rhyme order is a a b b a —
a a b, refrain — a abba, refrain ; e. g.:

The summer 's gone — how did it go ?
And where has gone the dogwood's show?

The air is sharp upon the hill.

And with a tinkle sharp and chill
The icy little brooklets flow.

What is it in the season, though,
Brings back the days of old, and so
Sets memory recalling still
The summer 's gone?

Why are my days so dark ? for lo.
The maples with fresh glory glow.
Fair shimmering mists the valleys fill,
The keen air sets the blood a-thrill —
Ah, now th.3.t you are gone, I know
The summer 's gone.
September ; Airs from Arcady : H. C. Bunner.

The Roundel is a modern modification of the Rondel,
and contains nine lines in three stanzas, with a refrain at
the end of the first and third of these. The rhyme order
\?.ab c refrain — b a b—a b c refrain ; e.g. :

•j6 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TRY AND MUSIC.

We know not yet what life shall be.

What shore beyond earth's shore be set ;
What grief awaits us, or what glee,
We know not yet.

Still, somewhere in sweet converse met.

Old friends, we say, beyond death's sea
Shall meet and greet us, nor forget

Those days of yore, those years when we

Were loved and true, — but will death let
Our eyes the longed-for vision see ?
We know not yet.
— Mors et Vita: Roundel by Samuel Waddington.

The Rondeau Redouble, by no means a double Ron-
deau, though so called, contains six stanzas, each of four
lines. The four lines of the first stanza are used respec-
tively for the last lines of stanzas two, three, four and
five ; while the last line of the sixth stanza is new, but has
added to it, as a refrain, the first half of the poem's open-
ing line. The rhyme order \s a b a b — b a b a — a b a b —
b a b a — a h a b — b aba refrain, e. g. :

My day and night are in my lady's hand ;
I have no other sunrise than her sight ;

For me her favor glorifies the land ;
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light.

Her face is fairer than the hawthorn white,
When all a-flower in May the hedge-rows stand ;

While she is kind, I know of no affright ;
My day and night are in my lady's hand.

All heaven in her glorious eyes is spanned ;
Her smile is softer than the summer's night,

Gladder than daybreak on the Faery strand ;
I have no other sunrise than her sight.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. yj

Her silver speech is like the singing flight
Of runnels rippling o'er the jewelled sand ;

Her kiss a dream of delicate delight ;
For me her favor glorifies the land.

What if the Winter chase the Summer bland !
The gold sun in her hair burns ever bright.

If she be sad, straightway all joy is banned ;
Her anger darkens all the cheerful light.-

Come weal or woe, I am my lady's knight.
And in her service every ill withstand ;

Love is my lord in all the world despite,
And holdeth in the hollow of his hand

My day and night.
— Rondeau Redouble : jfohn Payne.

The Villanelle is made up of five stanzas of three Hues
and one of four Hues. The first line of the first stanza
concludes the second and fifth stanzas, and is the third
line of the sixth stanza ; while the third line of the first
stanza concludes the third, fifth, and last stanzas, e.g. :

Across the world I speak to thee ;

Where'er thou art (I know not where).
Send thou a messenger to me.

I here remain who would be free.

To seek thee out through foul or fair,
Across the world I speak to thee.

Whether beneath the tropic tree,

The cooling night- wind fans thy hair, —
Send thou a messenger to me !

Whether upon the rushing sea,

A foamy track thy keel doth wear, —
Across the world I speak to thee.

78 RH YTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND M USIC,

Whether in yonder star thou be,

A spirit loosed in purple air, —
Send thou a messenger to me !

Hath heaven not left thee memory

Of what was well in mortal's share ?
Across the world I speak to thee ;
Send thou a messenger to me !
— Across the World I Speak to Thee : Edith M. Thomas.

The Kyrielle is made up of stanzas of four lines, each
of eight syllables, the last line of each stanza being the
same. The rhyme order xs a ab b — c c b b — e ebb, etc. ;
e.g.:

A little pain, a little pleasure,
A little heaping up of treasure ;
Then no more gazing upon the sun.
All things must end that have begun.

Where is the time for hope or doubt ?
A puff of the wind, and life is out ;
A turn of the wheel, and rest is won.
All things must end that have begun.

Golden morning and purple night.
Life that fails with the failing light ;
Death is the only deathless one.
All things must end that have begun.

— From a Kyrielle by yohn Payne.

The Pantoum is made up of stanzas of four lines, the
second and fourth of each stanza forming the first and
third of the stanza following ; while the second and fourth
of the final stanza are the first and third of the first
stanza. The rhyme order \s a b a b — b c b c, etc. ; e. g.:

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 79

Toiling in town now is horrid

(There is that woman again !) —
June in the zenith is torrid,

Thought gets dry in the brain.

There is that woman again ;

" Strawberries ! fourpence a pottle ! "
Thoughts get dry in the brain ;

Ink gets dry in the bottle.

' ' Strawberries ! fourpence a pottle ! "

Oh for the green of a lane ! —
Ink gets dry in the bottle ;

" Buzz " goes a fly in the pane !

— From a Panloum, In Town, by Austin Dobson.

The wind brings up the hawthorn's breath,

The sweet airs ripple up the lake.
My soul, my soul is sick to death.

My heart, my heart is like to break.

The sweet airs ripple up the lake,

I hear the thin woods' fluttering :
My heart, my heart is like to break :

What part have I, alas ! in spring ?

I hear the thin woods' fluttering ;

The brake is brimmed with linnet-song :
What part have I, alas ! in spring ?

For me heart's winter is life-long.
— From a Pantoum : Song in the Malay manner by John Payne.

Here is a form of French chain verse taken from the
excellent manual on " English Versification " of J. C.
Parsons.

Nerve thy soul with doctrines noble.

Noble in the walks of time,
Time that leads to an eternal,
' An eternal life sublime :

80 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN FOE TR Y AND MUSIC.

Life sublime in moral beauty,

Beauty that shall ever be ;
Ever be to lure thee onward,

Onward to the fountain free.

— Anon.

Here is a like poem, published in 1773.

My spirit longeth for thee

Within my troubled breast,
Although I be unworthy

Of so divine a guest.

Of so divine a guest.

Unworthy though I be.
Yet has my heart no rest,

Unless it comes from thee.

Unless it comes from thee,

In vain I look around ;
In all that I can see

No rest is to be found.

No rest is to be found

But in thy blessM love
Oh, let my wish be crowned.

And send it from above.

— fohn Byrom.

The Ballade contains either three stanzas of eight lines
with an Envoy of four lines, or three stanzas of ten lines
with an Envoy of five lines. The rhymes must be the
same, and occur in the same order in each stanza, the same
rhyming syllable must not be used twice in the same
poem, and the sense in each stanza must form one un-
broken and connected whole. The rhyme order of the
first form \sababbcbc and in the Envoy b c b c; in the
second form it \s a b a b b c c d c d, and in the Envoy c c
dc d. Here is an example of the first form :

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 8l

She 's had a Vassar education,

And points with pride to her degrees ;
She 's studied household decoration ;

She knows a dado from a frieze,

And tells of Corots from Boldonis ;
A Jacquemart etching, or a Haden,

A Whistler, too, perchance, might please
A frank and free young Yankee maiden.

She does not care for meditation ;

Within her bonnet are no bees ;
She has a gentle animation.

She joins in singing simple glees.

She tries no trills, no rivalries
With Lucca (now Baronin Raden),

With Nilsson or with Gerster ; she 's
A frank and free young Yankee maiden.

I 'm blest above the whole creation.

Far, far above all other he's ;
I ask you for congratulation

On this, the best of jubilees :

I go with her across the seas
Unto what Poe would call an Aiden, —

I hope no serpent 's there to tease
A frank and free young Yankee maiden.

Envoy.

Princes, to you the western breeze
Bears many a ship, and heavy laden.

What is the best we send in these ?

A frank and free young Yankee maiden.

— An American Girl: Brander Matthews,

Here are the first stanza and the Envoy of a Ballade
in the other form. The thought in this, as often in the
ballade, is of a more serious character. Notice, at the be-
ginning of the Envoy, as also of the last, the address to the
Prince in imitation of the methods of the old balladists.

82 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC,

My days for singing and loving are over

And stark I lie in my narrow bed,
I care not at all if roses cover

Or if above me the snow is spread ;

I am weary of dreaming of my sweet dead —
Vera and Lilly and Annie and May,
And my soul is set on the present fray.

Its piercing kisses and subtle snares :
So gallants are conquered, ah wellaway.

My love was stronger and fiercer than theirs.

Envoy,

Prince was I ever of festival gay,

And time never silvered my locks with gray ;

The love of' your lovers is a hope that despairs,
So think of me sometimes, dear ladies, I pray,

My love was stronger and fiercer than theirs.

— The Ballade of Lovelace : George Moore,

The Sestina has six stanzas of six lines and a concluding'
stanza of three lines. The rhyme-order of the first stanza
15 abcdef; of the second, f a e b d c ; of the third,
c f d a b e\ oi the fourth, e c b f a d; of the fifth, d a e c
fb; and of the sixth, b d f e c a. In the concluding
three lines, all six rhymes are used, three at the middles
of the lines, and three at their ends, and in this order:
first line a b, second line c d, third line e f. The form,
like several of those already noted, is exceedingly arti-
ficial ; and, as most of the rhymes are so far apart as to
have none of their ordinary effects, there is nothing pe-
culiar to the rhythm that deserves notice. Here are the
concluding stanzas of a poem in this form :

And into every mortal life and heart
There come some time in cloudy days or fair,
It matters not, to bless and light his fate
For one short space the perfume of the rose ;
And though the after years may bring but tears,
That moment's pleasure is of Paradise.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 83

O wondrous rose of love most passing fair,

Whate'er our fate in earthly Paradise,

Grant that our tears be dewdrops in thy heart.

— Sestina . Florence M. Byrne.

The Sicilian Octave is a single stanza of eight lines, the
rhyme-order of which is a b a b a b a b. Its general rhyth-
mic effect is like that of thousands of others with which
we are familiar.

The Virelai is composed of nine stanzas, each con-
taining nine lines. In each stanza there are two different
rhymes, one used six times, and the other three. The
one that is used three times is used six times in the fol-
lowing stanza : and the rhyme used six times in the first
stanza is used three more times in the last stanza. Every
rhyme, therefore, is used exactly nine times. Here are
the first and second stanzas of a Virelai :

As I sat sorrowing.

Love came and bade me sing

A joyous song and meet.
For see (said he) each thing
Is merry for the Spring,

And every bird doth greet
The break of blossoming.
That all the woodlands ring

Unto the young hours' feet.

Wherefore put off defeat
And rouse thee to repeat

The chimes of merles that go.
With flutings shrill and sweet,
In every green retreat,

The tune of streams that flow,
And mark the fair hours' beat.
With running ripples fleet

And breezes soft and low.

— Spring Sadness : yohn Payne.

84 RH YTHM A ND HA RMON Y IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

The Chant Royal, said to be so called because those
excelling in it were deemed worthy to be crowned with
garlands like conquering kings, consists of five stanzas,
each containing eleven lines. In the whole chant only
five rhymes are used, which rhymes, not words, in every
stanza are the same, and follow in the same order. This
order in the stanza is ababccddede, and, in the En-
voy, it \s d d e d e, the final line being the same in each of
the stanzas, and also in the Envoy. Owing to the fewness
of its rhymes, this chant is exceedingly difficult to construct,
and owing to its general effect, it was formerly reserved,
says Prof. Gosse, from whom the following final stanza
and concluding Envoy are quoted, " for the celebration of
divine mysteries, or for the exploits of some heroic race."

But oh, within the heart of this great flight.
What ivory arms hold up the golden lyre ?
What form is this of more than mortal height ?
What matchless beauty ! What inspired ire !
The brindled panthers know the prize they bear.
And harmonize their steps with stately care ;
Bent to the morning like a living rose,
The immortal splendor of his face he shows.
And where he glances, leaf and flower and wing
Tremble with rapture, stirred in their repose,
And deathless praises to the vine-god sing.

Envoy.

Prince of the flute and ivy, all thy foes
Record the bounty that thy grace bestows
But we, thy servants, to thy glory cling ;
And with no frigid lips our songs compose,
And deathless praises to the vine-god sing.

— The Praise of Dionysius : E. IV. Gosse.

Most of the types of stanzas that we have considered so
far are regular in form. In the Ode, as constructed by

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 85

Pindar, there were nine stanzas of different forms com-
posed in iambics. The first, fourth, and seventh stanzas
were alike ; also the second, fifth, and eighth ; and the
third, sixth, and ninth. Gray's " Progress of Poetry " is con-
structed on this plan ; but rigid adherence to the Pindaric
type is not, in our odes, considered essential. On the
contrary, the form is chiefly valued on account of the
great variety of rhythm — whether manifested in lines or
stanzas — that is allowable in it. It is usually employed
in the enthusiastic expression of dignified thought as in
the following:

The winds come to me from the fields of sleep,
And all the earth is gay ;
Land and sea

Give themselves up to jollity
And with the heart of May

Doth every beast keep holiday ;
Thou child of joy,
Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd boy.
— Ode on Intimations of Immortality : Wordsworth,

Comic effects are sometimes attributed to the rhythm ;
but in many such cases they are owing less to the char-
acter of the measures, whether double or triple, initial or
terminal ; or to the lines, whether long or short, regular
or irregular, than to the character of the words that are
put into them. For instance, in the following we find the
terminal tetrameters and trimeters of the Common Metre
of so many of our hymns. It will be observed, however,
that the words that are used in them are exceedingly easy
to pronounce, and therefore, when combined with others,
can be made to sbund light, flippant, and rattling:

Her face was bad, her figure worse,
He could n't bear to eat ;

86 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

For she was anything but like
A Grace before his meat.

— Tim Turpin : T. Hood.

And this is the same as our Long Metre :

Well, well, the chaplain I will seek,
We '11 all be married this day week —
At yonder church upon the hill ;
It is my duty, and I will.

— Captain Reece : W. S. Gilbert.

When we have a combination of double and triple
measures, the latter, because pronounced in the same
relative time as the former, are necessarily uttered with
a certain degree of rapidity. For this reason, these rat-
tling effects are at their best where triple measures are
occasionally introduced :

His eyes they were odd

Like the eyes of a cod,
And gave him the look of a watery god.

His nose was a snub.

Under which, for his grub.
Was a round open mouth like that of a chub.

—A Flying Visit : T. Hood.

In cases in which comic effects are really produced by
the rhythm aside from the language, it seems to be a
legitimate development of that incongruity which in other
departments is recognized to be their most prominent
component. Sometimes this incongruity is between the
thought and the form, as in the following :

Strike the concertina's melancholy string !
Blow the spirit-stirring harp like anything !

Let the piano's martial blast

Rouse the echoes of the past,
For of Agib, Prince of Tartary, I sing.

— The Story of Prince Agib : W. S. Gilbert.

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 87

" This to thy weazand Christian pest ! "

Aloud the Turk in frenzy yelled it,
And drove right through the Doctor's chest

The sabre and the hand that held it.

The blow was a decisive one,

And Doctor Brown grew deadly pasty —

*' Now see the mischief you have done —
You Turks are so extremely hasty ! "

— Ben Allah Ackmet : W. S. Gilbert.

In other cases, however, the incongruity is distinctly in
the form. Notice in the following not only the short,
flippant, and rattling nature of the syllables, but the effect
of a triple measure at the end of each line in a place
where a congruous arrangement, such as would charac-
terize a serious composition, would give us a double
measure, followed by a firmly sustained final accent :

;So I whispered, ' ' Dear Elvira, say, what can the matter be with you ?
Does anything you 've eaten, darling posy, disagree with you ?

— Ferdinand and Elvira : W. S. Gilbert.

Notice the same lack of sustained force, and therefore
of dignity, in the final measures of several of the lines in
this:

To trace the Kilmansegg pedigree
To the very root of the family tree.

Were a task as rash as ridiculous ;
Through antediluvian mists as thick
As London fog such a line to pick
Were enough in truth to puzzle old Nick,

Not to name Sir Harry Nicholas.
— Miss Kilmansegg and her Precious Leg • T. Hood.

In the italicized words of the following also we expect
a firmly sustained accented final measure. It is the en-

88 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

deavor to give it where it does not by nature belong that
makes the effect ludicrous. Sidney Lanier, in his " Sci-
ence of English Verse," attributes a comic suggestiveness
to the rhythm of the lines in the first quotation below,
aside from the way in which they end. So far as he is
justified in doing this, it is probably owing to the blend-
ing in them of double measures with triple measures not
only, but also with quadruple. Notice again what is said
at the middle of page 86.

Stick close to your desks, and never go to sea,
And you all may be rulers of the queen's navee.

—Pinafore : JV. S. Gilbert.

I du believe in prayer an' praise

To him — that hez the grantin'
O' jobs ; in every thin' that pays ;

But most of all in cantin* ;
This doth my cup with marcies fill.

That lays all thought o' sin to rest ;
I don't believe vciprincerple.

But, oh ! I du in interest.

— Biglow Papers : Lowell.

Notice, too, all the rhymes in this :

A fig for their nonsense and chatter ! — suffice it, her
Charms will excuse one for casting sheep's eyes at her.

When a man has decided

As Captain M'Bride did.
And once fully made up his mind on the matter, he
Can't be too prompt in unmasking his battery.

— Ingoldsby Legends : R. H. Barham.

As well as the pecuHarly snappish and unexpected
ending of the first, second, and fifth lines of the follow-
ing, and also the incongruous rhyme of the last line :

There was a young woman named Hannah
Who slipped on a piece of banana ;

STANZAS AND TYPICAL VERSE-FORMS. 89

She cried out " O my ! "
And more stars did she spy
Than are seen in the star-spangled banner.

— Nonsense Rhymes.

The fun in this, too, is in the incongruity of employing
for a rhyme-ending what, in a properly written line,
would be merely a caesura-pause :

Whene'er with haggard eyes I view
This dungeon that I 'm rotting in,
I think of those companions true,
Who studied with me at the U-
niversity of Gottingen,
niversity o£ Gottingen.
— The University of Gottingen : Geo. Canning.

CHAPTER VI.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC.

Rhythm an End aside from Its Connection with Words — Music as Devel-
oped from Song — Point of Separation between Speech and Song:
Poetry and Music — Musical Measures more Complicated than Poetic-
Ways of indicating Musical Notes and Rests — Measures — Longer Divi-
sions Corresponding to Poetic Lines — Developed as in Poetry from the
Art-Methods, Parallelism, etc. — The Motive — Its Expressional Import-
ance — The Phrase, Section, and Period — Changes in the Period — Unity
of Effect as Developed from these Rhythmic Arrangements — Why
Higher Works Find Few to Appreciate them — Musical Measures, Like
Poetic, Double and Triple — Accent in Musical Measures — Why Poetic
Measures Need' to he Distinguished in Other Ways than as Double and
Triple — Three or Six Notes as used in the Time usually Allotted to
Two or Four — Changes of the Places of Accent in the Measures — Pos-
sibility of Representing Different Effects of Movement — Typical Forms
of Rhythm — General Effect of Musical Rhythm Depends on that of
Whole Phrases, Sections, and Periods — Effects of Rhythm very Differ-
ent from those of Harmony — But the Development of the One has
Accompanied that of the Other.

■\ TERY slight consideration of rhythm, even as used by
the poets, will cause us to recognize that it possesses
a charm wholly aside from that of the intelligible words
arranged in accordance with its requirements. What else
than the effects of the rhythm of mere sound could cause
the senseless phrases of so many of " Mother Goose's
Melodies " to be so popular with the children ? What
else than the rhythm of mere sound — the recurrence of
like beats at like intervals of time — could cause the satis-

90

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. 9I

faction which those of different nations seem to derive
from the noises of gongs, drums, castanets, and cymbals ?
What but this makes the negroes of the South and the
settlers of the far West clap their hands and feet in uni-
son, and seem to enjoy doing this, in order to provide
what takes the place of music for their dancers ? In the
very rudest beginnings of this art therefore, even before
it has passed into a form in which it can properly be
termed music, it is characterized by rhythm.

In order to recognize how natural it is that the same
should continue to characterize the art after it has been
fully developed, let us begin by recalling a few of its
fundamental conditions. In Chapters II. and VI. of
" Art and Theory," attention was directed to the fact
that it is through the use of their own voices and hands
that men begin to gain personal experience in that initial
act of all the arts, which consists in putting together the
sights or sounds of nature. Probably no one disputes
this fact as applied to music. " We are justified in assum-
ing," says Helmholtz, in his exhaustive work on " The
Sensations of Tone as a Physiological Basis for the
Theory of Music," " that historically all music was devel-
oped from song. Afterwards the power of producing
similar melodic effects was attained by means of other
instruments which had a quality of tone compounded in
a manner resembling that of the human voice."

As music starts with song, it starts with the elements
of natural speech. This, as we have found, is composed
of syllables differing from one another in duration, force,
quality, and pitch. The moment these possible differ-
ences begin to be made for their own sakes without refer-
ence or primary referencepto the jTieanin^swhich_they
have in words, we are in the realfn of music, which art, as

L

92 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

it deals with sounds rather than with their linguistic^^-
nificance, tends to a far more elaborate development of
them than is found in poetry. In the latter art, measures
have been shown to be a result of grouping about certain
syllables, in pronouncing which there is a physiological
necessity of using an accent, certain other syllables that
need not be accented. As a result of this fact, as also of
the fact that each syllable of speech has a definite mean-
ing, and, therefore, must be uttered with sufficient slow-
ness to be definitely heard not only but interpreted to
understanding, ^oetic_jiieasures never containj nore than
two, three, or four separate sounds. But musical notes,
^ even if in song, are produced by a sustained action of the
I larynx, which does not necessitate anything even resem-
bling the alternating accented and unaccented utterances
-of speech ; and, of course, the absence of the same alter-
nation is still more marked in sounds produced upon
musical instruments. Besides this, the meanings of
musical sounds are not^ dependent, as wor ds are, upon
their\indiyidu ai formation, but ^upon their order of
sequence, and, therefore, they can be produced with any
amount of rapidity consistent with giving a general im-
pression of the fact that they are present.

For all the reasons just given, very many more separate
sounds can be used in a musical measure than in a poetic ;
and the manner, too, of using and arranging them can be
correspondingly more complicated. Poeticrhythm, in fact,
is only a very elementary form of the elaborate develop-
ments of it which, when sounds are freed from the limita-
tions of accent and etymology, we findJn_music. As,
however, the underlying principles in both arts are the
same, it is not necessary here to trace again the sources
of rhythm to the artistic tendencies toward unity, order.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. 93

comparison, and principality, as modified by variety, con-
fusion, contrast, and subordination, and manifested in the
other methods of composition connected with these as
arranged in the chart on page 3. As^usical rhj^thm is a
dfiiJ&lopment of poetic, Jt will be sufficient for our pur- lA
pose, with only an occasional reference to particular J
methods, to confine our attention to observing the differ- [
ences in the factors of the two arts which determine the
differences in their rhythmical manifestations.

In order to accomplish our end, let us begin by recall- ^
ing — of course in the interest of those only who are igno-
rant of music — a few familiar facts with reference to
musical notation. It may be as well to say too, in pass-
ing, that a study of the methods underlying musical
rhythm is important in its bearings upon the subject of
proportion, as well as in itself. But with reference to
music: Its -single sounds are^ c alled notes. In writing it,
these are repreierite3~~By^ characters that indicate the
length of time in which they are to be sounded. The notes
used at present, beginning with the longest, are the whole
note s> sounded, as a rule, in the same time as two half
notes J as four quarter notes J, as eight eight notes J, as
sixteen sixteenth notes ^ and as thirty-two thirty-second
notes 5- A dot placed after a note lengthens it by just
one half. For instance, a whole note dotted («• ) is
sounded for the same time as three half notes (^ f f).
Corresponding to these notes in the length of time given
to them, are characters called rests, indicating that the
sound should cease where they are placed. These, be-
ginning with the longest, are the whole rest -- indicating,
as a rule, a pause of the same length as two half rests—
as four quarter rests I, as eight eight rests i, as sixteen
sixteenth rests ^, and as thirty-two thirty-second rests K

94

RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

These notes and rests correspond, as will be recognized,
to the syllables and undesignated slight pauses after them
sometimes used in poetry, as illustrated on page 41.

The measures in which the notation is arranged are
separated by vertical lines termed bars, for which reason
the measures themselves are often termed the same.
Placed on the ordinary musical staff of five parallel
lines indicative of pitch, the bars look thus :

The combinations of notes and rests in each successive
measure are allotted the same amount of time, thus :

^;^=^

^^^^ ^.^^^ ^ ^ ^ ^

But besides these smaller divisions of time cprre-
spondingto_gioeticleet, we have In music larger divisions
corresponding to poetTc lines. Just "3^ in poetry too, the
lines are caused primarily by the groupings of sounds into
series that can be uttered in a single exhalation, so too in
music. In singing there will always be a tendency to
pause just as in reading ; and in singing verses, a tendency
to pause in the same places as in reading them. To show
this, we have only to recall any of our common hymns or
songs. Notice the music printed near the beginning of
Chapter XII. of this volume. The only difference be-
tween the pauses in reading this and in singing it, is that,
in the latter, they are relatively longer. It is natural that
such should be the case, because more breath is expended
in producing the singing tones than the reading ones, and

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. 95

more time is needed in order to inhale a sufficient quan-
tity of it.

Divisions of the kind caused by pausing to breathe
when singing, are found in every form of music; but
they all probably originated in a desire to make the tunes
and the words of songs coincide, i. e., in the same tend-
ency that causes poetical verses consisting of clauses or
sentences of like length to be placed between the neces-
sary breathing places. Subsequently, after the custom
had been established of using musical series of similar
length, these continued to be factors of the form irre-
spective of other considerations. In modern music, pauses
followed by transitions to new groups of sounds are by
no means always determined by pauses in the sense and
transitions to new clauses. There are absurd examples
of an opposite method. Look at the following :

First. Second.

m

^c-hrr-i-T'^Ti^^^^^^rs^^^'^'^^

Just like a poor pol-, Just like a poor pol-, Just like a poor pel - lut - ed worm.

In poetry we have found the tendency first manifested
in measures and lines developing through, parallelism into
the couplet, and through massing, interspersion, com.plica-
tion, and continuity into the stanza. There are corre-
sponding developments in music. Beginning with the
smallest of these, first of all after the measure, we have
what is termed a motive. This is usually contained in two
measures, but its chief function is not to divide up the
time but to express or represent a phase of feeling which
is a germ for future musical unfoldment. It bears the
same relation to a musical composition as is borne to a
poetic by a refrain in its body or chorus. This refrain

96 RHYTHM AMD HARMOMY IN POETRY AND MUSIC

is usually short, as in the " Philip, my king," of the fol-
lowing, yet it might be longer, c. g. :

Look at me with thy large brown eyes,

Philip, my king.
For round thee the purple shadow lies
Of babyhood's royal dignities.
Lay on my neck thy tiny hand

"With love's invisible sceptre laden ;
I am thine Esther, to command,

Till thou shalt find thy queen-handmaiden,
Philip, my king.

—Philip My King : D. M. Mulock.

" The essential value of a motive," says W. S. B.
Mathews, in his " Primer of Musical Forms," " lies in its
rhythm and its general melodic figure, chiefly in the for-
mer." To illustrate this, he takes a motive from Schu-
mann's Novellette, and shows that the melody of it can

From Schumann's Novellette, Op. 99.

be transformed in a variety of ways, changing it to a dif-
ferent pitch in the same key or in another key, but
that " so long as the rhythm is preserved intact all the
transformations impress the ear as more or less modified
repetitions of the original idea," e.g. :

a. ^"^

fTi- ihH

-^

c.^

m m'm 1 1

(fl) ^ \

_r 1 r ^ 1 jf=

vf^ 1 1^' 1

^-jN I

3

T-«--l ...

3
3

1 „ J J J J

^S^

H — m —

*-^

• * J

t*. * * * — 1 ! -

1 r 1- 1 1
3

ART.METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. 97

So, too, he shows that the motive can be modified with
an analogous effect, by " imitation in contrary motion,"
thus :

Motive from Beethoven's Sonata in D min. Op. 31, with
imitation in contrary motion :

Motive from Schumann's Humoreske, Op. 20, with imita-
tion by inversion :

It seems hardly necessary to point out the very great
importance, as thus interpreted, of motives as factors of
musical form, not only because they constitute the bases
from which are developed the most elaborate composi-
tions, but also, as fully shown in " Poetry as a Representa-
tive Art," Chapter II., because they furnish the clews to
their meanings. It is well known that every tune of the
speaking voice, i. e., every spoken expression, has its own
peculiar elocutionary meaning. See " Poetry as a Repre-
sentative Art," Chapters VIII. to X., also the whole of
" Music as a Representative Art," at the end of this
volume, and the " Orator's Manual," pages 47 to 74.
When the tune of an expression is transferred to music,
as it often can be, it does not lose its meaning, and there
is a sense in which to develop it musically is to develop
its meaning musically. It is the motive, therefore, pri-
marily, which renders it possible for musical form, even
when at the greatest distance apparently from the region
of definite ideas, to represent movements of thought or
of mental feeling.

98 RH YTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TRY AND MUSIC.

As two measures usually constitute a motive, though
this term may be given to both a shorter and a longer
passage, two motives or four measures usually constitute
a phrase, two phrases a section, and two sections, one of
which is antecedent and the other consequent, constitute
a period. These all are shown together, as well as the
process of their development from the motive, in the fol-
lowing music adapted to our present purpose from Mr.
Mathews' " Primer of Musical Forms." The first line be-
low represents a motive and a modification of it, and the
next two lines represent an entire period, as developed
from the motive :

First appearance, leading to the
dominant.

Second appearance, leading to
tonic.

Free imitation.

Antecedent section.

Motive I.

M. 2. M.

Consequent section.

M. 3.

1

Phrase.

Phrase.

1

^

1

1 1-^—

■— 1

^^ — rtf r 1

^ 1 1 1—

—J J J J JlJ 1 * J—

-^ — 1

f.) — I 1 1 1

1 J 5I •>-

-~i-r ' — 1

-^ — 1

M. I.

M. z.

M. J. • M. 1.

Op 31 in G . Beethoven.

The period itself may be further developed by being
shortened, lengthened, rendered complex, or joined with
others into period-groups. Notice the following periods
from the same work :

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. 99

Op. 10, No. I, Beethoven.

Sonata in C, Op. 2, Beethoven.

This grouping of consecutive musical sounds into
measures, motives, phrases, sections, and periods, evi-

lOO RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

dently corresponds exactly to the grouping of consecu-
tive poetic syllables into feet, lines, couplets, and stanzas ;
and it is evident too that, in the degree in which the
groups or associated groups are of like lengths, movements,
or general character of any sort, the mind will perceive
that they compare and together form a unity. Very lit-
tle attention to the movements of any of our popular
melodies will confirm this statement. Notice the music
on page 172. It may be said, too, that with most people
melodies, or harmonies, for that matter, are popular to
almost the exact extent in which likeness thus produced
is apparent. All the world is probably pleased to hear
well sung a melody like " The Last Rose of Summer."
Many, but not so many, like to hear series of instrumental
variations upon the same melody, provided this is clearly
recognizable through them. But a much smaller number
care to listen to an entire symphony developed from
this melody as a theme, in the same way in which so
much of Beethoven's Symphony in C minor is developed
from these four notes :

The reason why the higher work of music finds fewer
to appreciate it, is because (see " The Genesis of Art
Form," Chapters I., II.,) no art can satisfy one to whom
it appeals, except so far as his mind can compare its parts
together and perceive in them how unlike complex wholes
are grouped on the principle of putting together their like
partial effects. It takes a man of education and ex-
perience in logical methods to recognize the unity of a
philosophic system. In the same way it takes a man of
education and experience in musical methods to recognize

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. lOI

in what manner the subtile conditions of musical unity
are fulfilled in the symphony.

But, to return to a more practical analysis of rhythmic
effects, we have to notice, first, the influence of the smaller
divisions of time in the musical measures. And here, as
in poetry, we find that there are only two elementary
forms, namely, double and triple, but each of these may
be made up of many different kinds of notes. For the
sake of those unacquainted with musical notation, it may
be as well to explain also that, in order to indicate the kinds
of notes or of corresponding rests of which a measure is
composed, and the number of them, figures are placed at
the beginnings of a composition, signifying as follows :

Double measures.

In each measure
two half notes

-f— i^i

two quarter notes

two eighth notes

^

Triple measures.

In each measure

three half notes =p=

E^^

three quarter notes —m-

-m m—\

•-1 \ 1 '

three eighth notes —m-

E^^

Besides these we may have measures indicated also by
the fractions, f -I f f I -V- ^'^^- '^^^ measure f is some-
times represented thus $ or thus 2 ; and |- thus E, meaning
common.

We have found that in poetry, an accent, when used
with one of the syllables in each foot, gives character
to it, and through it to the rhythm produced when
the feet are sounded in succession. The same is true in
music. As a rule, the first note of a measure is percept-
ably accented. In order to secure this result, the first

102 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

full measure beginning a musical composition is made to
begin with the first accented note ; and the notes preced-
ing this are placed at the end of an incomplete measure
with which the composition opens. For instance, the fol-
lowing lines, if used at the beginning of a song, would be
arranged in music thus :

That danc es as oft en as dance it

f

Hang - ing so light and hang - ing

high.

It might simplify the subject of poetical rhythm if the
foot in it were treated in the same way as the musical
measure, i. e., always supposed to' be begun with the ac-
cented syllable. In this case we should have only two kinds
of feet, double and triple, of which all other kinds would
be clearly recognized to be modifications. But there are
objections to this method of treatment. The significance
of the metres, as shown in the eighth and ninth chapters
of " Poetry as a Representative Art," is determined
mainly by the way in which — whether with an accented
or an unaccented syllable — a line ends. Hence, irrespec-
tive of the way in which the line begins, an initial meas-
ure at its end means something entirely different from a
terminal measure. It seems better, therefore, to preserve
the distinction between the two, and not to say, as other-
wise we should be forced to do, that, with exception of
the syllables with which they start the line, both measures

ART-METHODS AS DE VELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. IO3

are the same. Analysis is always wise when it distin-
guishes between factors which for the sake of clearness of
thought need to be distinguished. As shown in Chapter
VI. of " Poetry as a Representative Art," the eight
metres described in Chapter III. of this essay all have
different effects upon the mind. For this reason it is well
not to confound them.

In arranging notes in measures, it is sometimes con-
venient, and always allowable, to use three in the time
allotted, as a rule, to two. For instance, in f time we may
fill the measure with three instead of two fourth notes or
with six instead of four eighth notes. In such cases, the
departure from the rule is indicated by the use of a brace,
with which is placed a figure 3, if these notes be used for
two, or a 6 if they be used for four. It must be remem-
bered, however, that in these cases the general time does
not change. The three notes are sounded in precisely
the same time usually given to two, e. g. :
3 33

For the sake of variety, as fulfilled in the methods of
alteration and interspersion, musical like poetical accent is
sometimes omitted or shifted from the first note of the
measure. Sometimes, too, when the measures are long
and the movement is rapid, there is more than one accent
in them, as in the following where a less emphatic accent
is given to the first of each of the three short notes under
the braces :

1 ^^

It is evident from what has been said that the oppor-
tunities for changing the general effect of the movement

I04 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

through changing the rhythm, are in music as in poetry
practically unlimited. Certain kinds of rhythm, like the
following taken from Mr. Mathew's " Primer of Musical
Forms," have been used so often that they have become
typical of large classes, but there is nothing in the nature
of rhythm itself to prevent these classes from being almost
infinitely multiplied.

Polonaise I ^Tj^ J^ Tj I ^Tj SI ^H I

Poma i JTT] I J J Jl J I

Ma^ch i J JIJ J I J J^ J J

Waltz: (Slow) i J J J I J. J J J I J.

<Quio., i J J J I J J J I

(Moderate) I Jj Jj Jj I J J J I
Oalop i J J I J J I J J I J J I

Boi&o i J j J I J. m I

or i . J J J J J I J. jnl

Also Bometimes the eame ae tlie Poloualse given above.

Presto.

Tarantelle I J ^J S \ JT] JT^l

" Pieces bearing these names are usually either in the applied song-form
somewhat modified, or in a rondo form. The march, galop, and polka are
almost always song-forms with trio. Waltzes sometimes come in this form.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING RHYTHM IN MUSIC. 105

especially what are called ' Salon Valses ' or drawing-room waltzes.
Dancing waltzes are commonly in suites. They are potpourris, consisting
of from five to seven waltzes of two periods each. The work is commonly
preceded by an introduction, and concluded with a final in which the prom-
inent motives already used are somewhat elaborated, or at least recapitu-
lated. Polonaises and Tarantelles are generally song-forms with trio.
Sometimes, however, the form is much less regular."

Beside the shorter divisions of time, as in measures,
motives, and phrases, we have noticed that the rhythm of
music, as of poetry, depends upon longer divisions as in
phrases, sections, and periods. In accordance with this,
observe the close resemblance between the typical rhythm
produced by the four lines of a poetic stanza and by the
following, which is taken from Weber's " Theory of Musi-
cal Education."

ircrrcrirrr^irDTfTirr^ircrrcrirrr^irGTrir-

It hardly needs to be added now that these effects as
thus produced are very different from those of musical
melody or harmony. Savages and yo ung chi ldren with
no musical training, and their elders who have no ability
to appreciate changes in qualit^^r pitch^_aJl^how_appre-
ciation of rhythm. Nothing coulH'bernore perfect than
that in the poetry of Pope, Scott, or Byron. Yet it is
said that neither of these was able to distinguish one
tune from another. So with many dancers. One need
not be able to follow a tune as a tune, in order to keep
time to its rhythm.

It is not strange, therefore, to find rhythm, as shown both
by historical records and by existing conditions of savage
nations, antedating all other musical developments. But
a decided advance in its possibilities and in the methods

I06 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

of maintaining them amid complicated movements has
been necessitated by every advance in the use of har-
mony. Especially was this true at the time of the rise
of the polyphonic music of the middle ages (see pages
189-191), in which two or three separate melodies were
sung at one and the same time. In many places in
this music a long note of one melody had to be given the
same time as many short notes of another melody. To
provide for effects of this kind required more elabor-
ate measurements of notes and determinations of the
relations between them than had previously existed ; and
still another advance was necessitated when the poly-
phonic music gave way to the elaborate systems of
harmony of more recent times. The requirements of
these, however, have long been met, and probably there
will never be any practical demands which our present
methods cannot satisfy.

CHAPTER VII.

ART-METHODS OF UNITY, ORDER, COMPARISON, PRINCI-
PALITY, ETC., AS DEVELOPING POETIC HARMONY.

The Terms Tone and Color are Used in both the Arts of Sound and o£ Sight —
Harmony a Complex Effect but a Unity — The Mind Conscious of the Divi-
sions of Time Represented in Rhythm ; Not Conscious of those of Vibra-
tions Represented in Harmony — In the Recognition of which, the Ear
and Eye Act Similarly — The Scientific Knowledge of the Origin of Tone
and Color did not Precede the Artistic Use of Them — Analogies Be-
tween Poetry and Painting or Sculpture — Also Between Architecture
and Music — Poetic Effects Dependent on Laws of Sound — Examples
of Verse Containing too Much Variety of Tone — Necessity for Unity
of Tone-Effects — Dependent Upon the Order of the Syllables — Eu-
phony — Vowel and Consonant-Sounds Easy to Pronounce — Examples
of Euphonious Words and Poems — If Difficult to Pronounce, Illustrate
Artistic Confusion — Euphony Leading to Use of Like Sounds Accord-
ing to Art-Method of Comparison — Accent as Necessitating Art-
Methods of Counteraction, Coiitrast, Complement — Further Exemplifi-
cation — Consecutive Tones should not be as Different as Possible —
But should not be Alike on Both Accented and Unaccented Syllables
— Accented Tones can be Repeated According to Art-Methods of
Principality, but Subordination and Balance Require Different Un-
accented Tones.

A S primarily used, the term tone is applied to only cer-
•^^ tain effects of sound, and the term color to only
certain effects of sight. But in a secondary, and, at the
beginning, a metaphysical sense, the term tone is applied
also, though in a restricted way, to certain effects of color,
and the term color to certain effects of tone. This inter-
change of terms shows that men in general recognize,

107

I08 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

though often in only a vague way, the existence of those
analogies between effects appealing to the ear and to the
eye, which have been brought out in other volumes of this
series, especially in " The Genesis of Art-Form." The same
fact is also shown by the use in both classes of art of
terms like pitch, key, and harmony. What these terms
mean, will be unfolded as we go on.

In explaining rhythm, it was found necessary to con-
sider under this one head the combined results of duration
and force. In a future volume, also, in explaining pro-
portion, it will be found necessary to consider similarly
the combined results of extension and light and shade. In
an analogous way, under the one head of tone or color,
one must consider the combined results of force, quality,
and pitch, in the arts of sound, and of light and shade,
and the different kinds and degrees of hue in the arts of
sight. Harmony, as produced either by tone or color, is
a complex effect which, however, is in itself a unity, and,
therefore, can be best interpreted by treating it as a unity,
without analyzing it into its elements, except so far as
may be necessary in order to render the combined whole
more intelligible.

That which separates the phenomena of rhythm and, as
will be shown in another place, of proportion from those
of harmony is the fact that, of the divisions of time or of
space respectively causing the effects of the two former,
the mind is directly conscious ; whereas of the divisions
causing the effects of the latter, the mind is not conscious,
and has come to know of them only indirectly, as a result
of the investigations of science. These investigations
have discovered that, back of the outer ear which is
shaped so as to collect the sound, and back of the drum
too, is an inner ear filled with a pellucid fluid in which

ART-ME THODS AS DE VELOPING POE TIC HARMON Y. 1 09

float the extremities of the acoustic nerve. Under the
influence of impulses of sound from without, the drum is
made to vibrate. Its vibrations are communicated to the
fluid behind it, and, through this, they set into motion one
or more of the delicate organs of sensation — called from
the name of their discoverer, Corti's rods — with which
the acoustic nerve terminates, each of these organs being
supposed to be especially affected by a vibration of a
certain rate. It is only when the vibrations are very fre-
quent, at least eight in a second of time, that the ear
derives from them the impression of a continuous sound.
As they increase in frequency, and, at the same time,
lessen in size, the sound becomes higher in pitch, its
mere loudness depending not on the relative rate of
vibrations, but upon the violence of the stroke produc-
ing them. When at last, the vibrations become too fre-
quent for the ear to distinguish them — as when there are
more than twenty-four hundred of them in a second of
time — the effect upon the ear is the same as if there were
no vibrations at all, and the sensation of sound is conveyed
no longer.

Very similar to the operations that take place in the
ear, when recognizing pitch, are those that take place in
the eye when recognizing color. Passing through the
pupil of the outer eye and the transparent crystalline lens
behind it, rays from objects of sight reach the vitreous
humor which extends to the retina, an expansion of the
optic nerve. The effect of color in this is considered to
be a result — but exactly how produced scientists are not
as yet agreed — of certain vibrations of this humor. As
in the case of sound, too, less frequent vibrations cause
one hue and more frequent vibrations cause another.

The discovery of these facts, however, with the unfold-

I lO RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

ing from them of important inferences, which will be
considered hereafter, did not precede the artistic develop-
ments of the possibilities of sound or of sight. Judging
only by effects, in spite of ignorance of the causes under-
lying them, the artists had already worked for centuries
in both departments, before any physiological scientist
was able even to suggest why their methods were in
the main correct. Let us follow the same order here.
Let us start, as our ancestors did, with the effects them-
selves, and notice how, in spite of many limitations, these
ancient artists, with only their sensations to guide them,
constructed those harmonic systems of tone and of color,
of which modern science alone has discovered the causes.
These causes, as will be shown presently, are the same as
those that underlie all the developments of form in art,
being all traceable to the satisfaction which, for reasons
unfolded in " The Genesis of Art-Form," the mind derives
from being able, amid the variety and complexity of nature,
to form a conception of unity, and, through the general
method of comparison, to embody this conception in a
product (see the chart on page 3).

Poetry bears the same relation to the arts of sound that
painting and sculpture bear to those of sight. All three
are largely imitative. Poetry reproduces in an artistic
guise what might be heard in nature, if a man were telling
a story, or if several men were conversing. Painting and
sculpture reproduce in an artistic guise what might be seen
in nature. For this reason it is possible to be interested,
though not artistically interested, in the products of each
of these arts, on account merely of that which they portray,
irrespective of the style or form in which they portray it.
But the converse is true with reference to music and archi-
tecture. These arts are only slightly imitative, and if

AR T-ME THODS AS DE VELOPING POE TIC HARMON F. I [ I

we be interested in them at all, it is owing almost entirely
to their style or form. But we must not make the mis-
take of inferring from this fact that style or form is unim-
portant in the former arts ; in other words, that the laws
of tone as tone must not be fulfilled in poetry, or of color
as color in painting.

It is chiefly with reference to poetry that this mistake
is likely to be made. Admirers of Whitman might possi-
bly — were they logical, which, fortunately, they are not —
be ready to deny that the laws of sound apply to poetry
in the same sense as to music. And yet they are as im-
perative in the one art as in the other, though, of course,
in a different degree and way.

In order to recognize this, let us read over a few pas-
sages in which apparently no attempt has been made to
arrange the successions of sounds. There is no necessity
of arguing that in the verses following there is a lack of
effects which in certain other compositions cause one
sound to flow into another in such a way that whole
series of sounds seem to be united, or to form a unity.
In other words, these verses manifest too great phonetic
variety of a kind which, while not objectionable in prose,
we feel to be inconsistent with those results of taste and
care and skill, which are demanded by the artistic
character of poetry :

And they thought of Alexander
He, who o'er the world once triumphed,
And then wept because another
Was not found for him to conquer,
Came and summoned its surrender,
And how it without a struggle
Opened quick its gates unto him.
O how true 't is that transgressors
Find the ways of sin oppressive

1 1 2 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN FOE TR Y AND MUSIC.

To themselves and to their children !
Where was once proud Sidon's city,
Full of wealth and full of beauty,
With its teeming population
And its harbors full of shipping,
Now, alas, are wretched hovels
Built of mud and ancient ruins.

— Sketches of Palestine . E. P. Hammond.

A strange belief that leaned its idiot back

On folly's topmost twig — belief that God

Most wise, had made a world, had creatures made

Beneath His care to govern and protect.

Devoured its thousands. Reason, not the true

Learned, deep, sober, comprehensive, sound.

But bigoted, one-eyed, short-sighted Reason,

Most zealous, and, sometimes no doubt sincere,

Devoured its thousands. Vanity to be

Renowned for creed excentrical, devoured

Its thousands : but a lazy, corpulent

And over-credulous faith, that leaned on all

It met, nor asked if 't was a reed or oak.

Stepped on : but never earnestly inquired

Whether to Heaven or Hell the journey led.

— The Course of Time, ii. ; Pollock.

Tho' I have lost
Much lustre of my native brightness, lost
To be beloved of God, I have not lost
To love, at least contemplate and admire
What I see excellent in good, or fair,
Or virtuous : I should so have lost all sense.

— Paradise Regained : Miltoti.

This outward-sainted deputy
Whose settled visage and deliberate word
Nips youth i' the head and follies doth enmew
As falcon doth the fowl, — is yet a devil.

— Measure for Measure, iil., i : Shakespeare.

ART-ME THODS AS DE V ELOPING POE TIC HARMON Y. 1 1 3

Not all, but some of these quotations show us that
poetic effect is not dependent wholly upon the presence
or absence of poetic thought. On the contrary, that
which in verse charms the ear, fixes attention, remains in
memory, and passes into a precept or proverb, is some-
times dependent for its popularity almost entirely upon
consecutive effects of sound, so arranged as to flow into
one another and together form a unity. Certainly, in
many cases, the same thought, expressed in sounds less
satisfactorily arranged, would not be remembered or
repeated. Would not this be true of the following?

Breathes there a man with soul so dead
Who never to himself hath said
This is my own, my native land.

— Lay of the Last Minstrel, vi. : Scott.

Safe bind, safe find.
— Five Hundred Points of Good Husbandry : Tusser.

The streak of silver sea {i. c, the English Channel).

— Edinburgh Review : Gladstone.

As true as steel.

— Romeo and Juliet, ii. , 4 : Shakespeare.

The forest primeval.

— Evangeline : Longfellow.

From grave to gay, from lively to severe.

— Essay on Man, iv. : Pope.

And storied windows, richly dight,
Casting a dim, religious light.

— II Penseroso : Milton.

I have thee on the hip.

— Merchant of Venice, iv., i : Shakespeare,

Othello's occupation 's gone.

— Othello, iii., 3 : Idem.

1 14 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN FOE TR Y AND MUSIC.

Who would quote any of the four latter had they been
worded thus ? :

From serious to joyful, from animated to stem.
Casting a dim, sacred light.
I have you on the shoulder.
Othello's work 's gone.

It is not true, therefore, that, in arranging words, all
that is necessary is to put them together grammat-
ically, and in such a way as to indicate their sense. To
produce satisfactory poetic effects either upon the mind
or ear, they must be arranged so that their sounds shall
occur in a certain order (see page 3). To say no more,
some successions of vowels and consonants are difficult
to pronounce, e. g., " Thou shouldst stand still,"
" Heaven's thought-forged forms," " Condensed to match
children's comprehension." As a rule, men like to avoid
difficulties. For this reason, when nothing in the sense
calls for a different treatment, one prefers to have words
so arranged that they can be uttered easily and rapidly.
That is to say, he prefers the effect which is technically
termed euphony.* In fact, without being clearly aware
why he prefers this, his utterances often tend toward it

* The rhetorical fault Euphuism is named after the hero of Lyly's
" Euphues," which was written in an alliterative and assonant style. Here
is an extract from it :

" There is no privilege that needeth a /ardon, neither is there any remis-
sion to be asked, where a commission is granted. I speake this, gentlemen,
not to excuse the o/Ience which was taken, but to offer a ai'fence where I was
misl&ken. A rleare ranscience is a sure card ; truth hath the prerogative to
speake with /lainnesse, and the modesty to heare with /atience. — The
Writer : G. L. Raymond and G. P. Wheeler.

AR T-ME THODS AS DE VELOPING POE TIC HARMONY. 1 1 5

instinctively and unconsciously. How many of the news-
boys in our streets know why, almost invariably, all of
them call out the names of the newspapers in the same
order? Yet they do this, and the order is the one in
which the names can be the most easily and rapidly
pronounced.

With reference to this subject it may be said that, as a
rule, the vowels a, e, i, o, u, and the semi-vowels, y, w, I,
and the nasals (m, n,) and most of the sonant consonants
{v, z,j, d, b), when combined with other consonants, are
easy to pronounce; whereas the consonants, k, s,f, k, t,
p, ch, sh, th, especially when combined with one another
or with other consonants, are difficult to pronounce. No-
tice the euphony of the words Albion, Erin, Caledonia,
Columbia, demeanor, bridal, wonderful, ^olian, ^nerrily,
lovely, silvery, Clarabel, jollity.

Also of those in this " Nonsense Rhyme " :

How evanescent and marine
Are thy chaotic uplands seen,

Oh, ever sublapsarian moon ;
A thousand viaducts of light
Were not so spherically bright,

Or ventilated half so soon.

And in the following, in which the words are selected,
almost as evidently as in the last, on account of their
sounds :

From Archosia, from Candaor east,
From Margiana, to the Hyrcanian cliffs
Of Caucasus, and dark Iberian dales ;
From Atropatia, and the neighboring plains
Of Adiabene, Media, and the south
Of Susiana, to Belsara's haven.

— Paradise Regained, 3 : Milion.

1 1 6 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Notice also the lack of euphony in these : barefaced-
ness, inextricable, soothedst, stretched, pledged, adjudged,
struggled, strengthened, disrespect.

It is important, however, in this connection, to bear in
mind that behind these effects of sound there may be
reasons in the sense. As Alexander Bain says in his
" Rhetoric " : " What is hard to pronounce is not only
disagreeable in the act of pronunciation, but also disa-
greeable to hear ; for in listening to speech we cannot
help having present to our mind the way that the words
would affect our organs, if we had to utter them our-
selves. Even in reading without utterance aloud, we
have a sense of the articulate flow of the voice and to the
ear." This truth applies, of course, not only to that
which is euphonious, but to that which is not so. Ac-
cordingly, when for appropriate representation, the
thought demands a suggestion of difficulty, nothing can
be more expressive than phrases like the following, in
which, therefore, we have illustrations of an artistic use
of phonetic variety in the sense of confusion as distin-
guished from order (see page 3).

And strains from hard bound brains ten lines a year.

— Epistle to Arbuthnct : Pope.

Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ;

His hair upreared, his nostrils stretched with stru^ling ;

His hand abroad displayed, as one that grasp'd

And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued.

Look ! on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking ;

His well-proportioned beard made rough and rugged.

—2 Henry VI., iii., 2 : Shakespeare.

With staring countenance stem, as one astown'd,
And staggering steps, to weet what sudden stour
Had wrought that horror strange.

—Faerie Queene, i., 8, 5 : Spenser.

ART-METHODS AS DEVELOPING POETIC HARMONY. I \^

With complicated monsters, head and tail,
Scorpion and asp, and amphisbaena dire.
Cerastes, horn'd hydrus, and ellops drear.
And dipsas ; not so thick swarmed once the soil
Bedropped with blood of Gorgon, or the isle
Ophiusa.

— Paradise Lost, lo : Milton.

Now let us start with this fact that all acknowledge
with reference to ease and difficulty in the utterance of
words, and trace its development. It is a principle readily
recognized that if we have placed the organs of speech
into position for the purpose of uttering one sound, it
requires less expenditure of effort to repeat this sound
than to put them into another position for the purpose
of uttering another sound. To go no further, this princi-
ple applied to practice would seem to lead, in accordance
with the method of comparison, to the use in succession of
like sounds. But is it true that this use of sounds is
invariably euphonious ? Are series of words like the fol-
lowing easy to pronounce? — " Best station," " high-arched
church." Even in the case of syllables that, considered
separately, are easy to pronounce, — are they so when we
have a series of them, as in " We met in an enormous
car " ?

These illustrations of themselves are enough to show
us that we cannot, without some important modification,
frame any rule to the effect that the uttering in succes-
sion of like sounds is invariably euphonious. But should
we, therefore, draw the inference, as some do, that the
opposite is true ; in other words, that in poetry the repe-
tition of similar sounds is not euphonious, and that here
is a case in which the principle of putting like effects with
like does not apply ? Before drawing this conclusion, let
us, at least, look farther into the subject. What is the

1 1 8 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN FOE TR Y AND MUSIC.

real explanation of the difficulty of pronouncing in suc-
cession the syllables in the phrases just quoted ? — It is the
fact that they are used on an accented and also on an
unaccented syllable immediately following it. This
causes difficulty, because the vocal organs are so formed
that their positions and actions in an accented and in an
unaccented utterance are different. In other words, these
two forms of utterance naturally counteract each other
(see page 3). Moreover, the nature of the organs is such
that ease of utterance requires that both forms should be
present, and used in alternation. One cannot apply to
consecutive syllables without restriction, therefore, this
principle of comparison. Unaccented syllables must con-
trast with the accented ones, and in such a way too as to
complement them (see page 3). But if this requirement be
regarded, like sounds repeated only on accented or only
on unaccented syllables, except in the sense in which all
forms of repetition may become monotonous and tire-
some, are not open to the objection urged. They do not
render utterance more difficult, as suggested above, but,
on the contrary, decidedly more easy ; e. g., " When in any
den of many men of many minds." "All they thought
of all the order or the thought of all the hall was all
appalling." "Jumping, jarring, running, gunning, falling,
crawling, lying, flying."

Intentional, and, as all admit, artistic, repetitions of
the sounds of accented syllables in succeeding unaccented
ones, are best explained in accordance with this principle.
Take the following :

The league-long roller thundering on the reef.

— Enoch Arden : Tennyson.

When this is properly read (see page 41), as much

ART-METHODS AS DE VELOPING POETIC HARMONY. 1 19

time is given to league and also to long as to a whole foot
of two syllables. In other words, the voice after both
league and long pauses a sufificient time for the pronuncia-
tion of an unaccented syllable. This is the artistic justi-
fication for the two consecutive syllables, each beginning
with an /. The poet wishes to represent something that
moves slowly, and to do this he uses words that cannot
well be read in succession except by uttering them slowly,
the general effect being that of accented syllables followed
by pauses representative of unaccented syllables, thus :

The league (followed by an unaccented syllable) long (followed by an
■unaccented syllable) roller thundering on the reef.

What has been said will reveal the reason of the mis-
take sometimes made, when, owing to the recognized
difficulty of pronouncing the same sound in both an
accented and in a following unaccented syllable, the in-
ference is drawn that the remedy for the difficulty lies
in making all consecutive sounds, whatever their nature,
as different as possible. This latter inference, applied
to practice, would lead to the effects noticed in the first
quotation on page 112, and, as will presently be shown,
would violate the fundamental principle of comparison
which underlies all poetic harmony.

The mistake can be obviated by recalling that, when we
speak of the repetition of sounds in poetry, we mean the
repetition of poetic sounds; and that the least factor of a
sound distinctively poetic — indeed of any absolutely com-
pleted form of sound distinctively conversational even —
includes the complexity involved in the counteraction of
the coinple-mentary methods that we have in accented and
unaccented syllables. These together are needed, though
the latter may sometimes be represented by a pause

I20 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

rather than by an audible syllable, in order to make one
poetic foot or measure.

With this understanding of what is meant, we can go
back now to the statement on page 1 1 7, and say that if we
have placed the organs of speech into position for the
purpose of uttering an accented sound or an unaccented
sound, it requires less expenditure of effort to repeat this
accented or this unaccented sound than to put them into
another position for the purpose of uttering a different
sound. This principle, when applied, leads, of course,
to the use in succession of merely like accented or else
like unaccented sounds. As a fact, it is only of the like-
ness in the former, i. e., in accented sounds, of which in
this art there is any extensive use. This is as we should
expect. It is the accented sounds that seem to have
principality, and to make these alike, naturally conveys
the impression as, according to the chart on page 3, should
be the case, that comparison h.a.s principality, and that the
contrast afforded in the unaccented syllables is given sub-
ordination. Notice, too, that, as heard consecutively, the
accented and unaccented syllables not only complement
but, in a way, balance each other, and, through the agency
of tone, augment the effects of organic form, which we
have already found to be primarily produced through the
agency of rhythm.

CHAPTER VIII.

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME.

Like Effects in the Sounds of Syllables — Alliteration — In Helirew Poetry —
In Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Spanish, German — In Anglo-Saxon —
As Used by Milton, Shakespeare, and Modem English Poets — Asso-
nance — Examples, Greek, Latin, French, Italian, Spanish, German,
Anglo-Saxon, English — Two Examples from Tennyson — Assonance
Used for Rhyme — Rhyme, Place of — Its History — Greek, Latin, Early
English — Reason for It — Rules of, First, Second, Third, Fourth,
Fifth — A Correlated Chinese Style of Composition.

"DEFORE considering the relations of our subject to
any more of the methods mentioned in the chart
on page 3, let us notice, in order to perceive clearly ex-
actly that with which we have to deal, the different ways
in which like partial effects can be produced in connection
with unlike complex syllables. As the factors of sylla-
bles are consonants and vowels, of course this must be
done either by the use of consonant-sounds or of vowel-
sounds, or of a combination of both. The first of these
ways, and as formerly used in Anglo-Saxon poetry, the
last of them also, gives rise to alliteration, the second to
assonance, and the third, under conditions to be explained
hereafter, to rhyme.

Alliteration, as now interpreted, is an effect produced
when series of syllables, otherwise different, contain, usu-
ally at their beginning rather than end, consonants repre-
senting the same sounds. Thus, in " keep calling " the k

121

122 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

alliterates with c. But in " him we honor " the sounded h
cannot alliterate with the silent h. To prove that the
mind naturally takes satisfaction in alliteration, and is
attracted by it, we have only to read the ordinary head-
ings of our newspapers, like " The Stalwart Struggle,"
" Boston Buds with Big Blossoms," " The Meaning of the
Message," or to recall how many of our popular proverbs,
like " Fair fowls have fine feathers " exemplify it.

Alliteration seems to have been used very early in the
construction of poetry. To instance no other examples,
in the original Hebrew of the i igth Psalm and in the
third chapter of the book of Lamentations, we find poems
divided into twenty-two stanzas, each of which is named
after one of the twenty-two letters of the Hebrew alpha-
bet. More than this, each verse in each of the stanzas
begins with the letter after which the stanza is named.
Here is a similarity of sound at the beginnings of lines as
great as we find in our day in the rhymes at the ends
of them.

In Greek and Latin poetry alliteration was used very
much as it is with us. In the very first line of the " Iliad,"
lambda followed by eta is repeated twice, and eta three
times, and all of these repetitions, as we should expect
from what was said on page 120, are on accented syllables.

Mriviv aeiSs, ^sd nriXT)idSEOo 'Axi^vo'i.

— Iliad, i., I : Homer.

Notice, too, the following :

IlaGav, 6it666ov £7Ce6xE itvpoi ixivo%- avzdp ejtetra.

— Idem, xxiv. , 792.

Kai (pevyeiv 6vv vrfvdl TCoXvxXrj'iSi MsXevdoa.
TlJ.£i% 6' aXXoSrsv aXXoi kpjjrveiv iTtse66iy.

—Idem, ii., 74, 75.

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE AND RHYME. 1 23
Also these from the Latin of Virgil :

Ducite ab urbe domum, mea carmina, ducite Daphnim.

— Buc. Eel., viii., 68.

Si qua fata sinant, jam turn tenditque fovetque.

— Aineid, i., 18.

Bis rejecti amis respectant terga tegentes.

— Idem, xi., 630.

Erg6 concilium magnum, primosque Suorem.

— Idem, 234.

Here are similar arrangements from the early French :

Quant cil le surent en Ely,
Si se sunt mis en sa merci.

— L'Estorie des Engles : Geoffrei Gaimar.

Hoc voleient sujurner
E leisser I'iver trespasser,
Mais quant Willame 90 entent,
Si's aturnat tut altrement.

_ — IdeTn.

Brabant, Bourgongne et Boullenois,
Hayau, Holande, et Namurois.
— Song on the downfall and death of the Earl of Warwick : Anon,

And here from modern French :

Ah ! laissez-les couler, elles me sont bien chores
Ces larmes que souleve un coeur encor blesse !

— Souvenir ; A If red de Musset,

J'en parle par hasard pour I'avoir entrevu ;
Quelqu'un peut en pleurer pour I'avoir mieux connu.

— Le 13 jfuillet. Idem.

Vous verrez pr^s de vous, dans ces choeurs d'innocence,
Charlotte autre Judith, qui vous vengea d'avance.

— Les Vierges de Verdun : Victor Hugo.

124 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.
Here from the Spanish :

Mas noble, a mis manos muere,
Antes que a morir a manos
De infames verdugos Uegues.

El Mdgico Prodigioso, i. : Calderon.

Mas no pude ; porque al punto
Las voces se desvanecen.

— Idem,

Arias. Ocasion debio de dalle.
Pedro. Dice que no se la dio.

— La Estrella de Sevilla, iii. ; Lofe de Vega.

Here from the Italian :

Morti li morti, e i vivi pareau vivi.
Non vide me' di me chi vide il vero,
Quant' io calcai fin che chinato givi.

— Purg. xii., 67 : Dante.

And here from the German :

Frankreich erfiillt die Freundespflicht ; mir wird
Verstattet sein, als Kbnigin zu handeln.

— Marie Stuart, ii., 2 : Schiller.

And here is a combination in the same syllable of allitera-
tion and assonance such as the next quotation will show
us in Anglo-Saxon poetry :

Die Bergesheh'n warum so schwarz ?
Woher die Wolkenwoge ?

— Charon : Goethe.

Alliteration, often accompanied, as has just been said,
by assonance, was carried to excess by the Anglo-Saxons.
The ears of their descendants became so accustomed to
hear it in poetry that, in the twelfth century, as Barry

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME. I25

tells US in his " Description of Wales," they considered no
composition elegant, but rude and barbarous, if it were
not full of it. Notice the following :

Quhat wikkitness, quhat wanthiyft now in warld walkis
Bale has banist blythnes hoist grere brag blawis
Prattis are repute policy and perrulus paukis
Dygnite is laide doun, derth to the dur drawls, etc.

— Douglas* Translation of VirgiVs yEneid,

In a somer seson " whan soft was the sohne,
I shope me in shroudes ' as I a shepe were,
In habite as an hermemite ' vnholy of workes,
Went wyde in this world ■ wondres to here.

— Vision of Piers Plowman : Langland.

It needs to be observed, in accordance with what was
said on page 120, that few among the Anglo-Saxon
poets applied this method to unaccented syllables. Their
alliterations were usually confined to consecutive ac-
cented syllables. Some of their poets, also, recognizing
the lack of art in excessive uniformity, were satisfied in
case they began with the same sounds, two syllables in
one line and one syllable in the next. When they con-
fined themselves to the latter course, they did no more, as
Dr. Longmuir has shown in his Preface to " Walker's
Rhyming Dictionary," than Milton often did, notwith-
standing his expressed contempt for those who put the
jingling of like sounds at the beginning instead of at the
end of words. For instance, " Paradise Lost " begins
thus:

Of man's first disobedience and the fruit
Of that forbidden tree ;

And it ends with :

They hand in hand with wandering steps and slow
Through Eden took their solitary way.

126 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Notice, also, these lines, in which both w and r are
repeated :

War wearied hath performed what war can do,
And to disordered rage let loose the reins.

— Paradise Lost, vi.

Considering that / is merely the aspirated form of v,
here is a very marked instance of this effect :

Of fiery darts in flaming volleys flew,
And flsring, vaulted either host with fire.

-Idem,

Spenser, too, is full of alliteration :

Who him disarmed, dissolute, dismayed,
Unwares surprised and with mighty mall
The monster merciless him made to fall.
Whose fall did never foe before behold,
And now in darksome dungeon, wretched thrall,
Remediless, for aie he doth him hold.

Faerie Queene i,, 7,

We find it in Shakespeare also :

The loyalty well held to fools, does make
Our faith mere folly.

— Antony and Cleopatra, iii., 2 : Shakespeare.

Wise men ne'er wail their present woes,
But presently prevent the ways to wail.

— Richard II., iii., 2 : Idem.

They say, best men are moulded out of faults.
And for the most, become much more the better
For being a little bad.

— Measure for Measure, v., i : Idem.

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME. 12/
And in all our modern poets, e. g. :

Foiled, bleeding, breathless, furious to the last,
Full in the centre stands the bull at bay.

Childe Harold, i. : Byron.

No doubt that were mankind inert and numb,
Its core had never crimsoned all the same,

Nor missing ours, its music fallen dumb ?
O dread succession to a dizzy past.

Sad sway of sceptre whose mere touch appals !

— Epilogue : R. Browning.

Current among men,
Like coin, the tinsel clink of compliment.

— The Princess : Tennyson.

Ah, Maud, you milk-white fawn, you are all unmeet for a wife ;
Your mother is mute in her grave, as her image in marble shows.

— Maud : Idem.

Ye floods
And windy ways of woods ;
Ye valleys and wild vineyards, ye lit lakes
And happier hiU-side brakes
Untrampled by the cursed foot that trod
Fields golden from their god.
Fields of their god forsaken.

— A Song of Italy : Swinburne.

Assonance is due to the use of like vowel-sounds, — like
vowel-sounds, notice, as in her and burr, not like vowels,
as in her and error. As vowels are generally more pro-
longed in pronunciation than are consonants, they are
more effective in producing similarity of sound, while at
the same time they obtrude themselves less upon the
observation either of the ear or eye. We do not always
notice assonances, unless we search for them. We notice

128 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

alliteration at once. For these reasons, poets who wish
to avoid an appearance of too great a regard for form, are
nauch more ready, of the two, to employ assonance. Its
use is common in all poetry.
Notice the following :

TiLi Ss JiE ixf) Saiaodiv i\(a Ss hev avroi cXoofiat
Iff rsov rj AiavToi iwv yipai, rj ^OSv6ijo'i
"A^co i^dy '6 Se xev Kexo^-od^srai, ov hev ixoofiai.

— Iliad, i., 137-9: Homer.

Uopcpiipimi Tte-!t\ot6i xaXvipavrei p,aXaH0i6iv.

— Idem, xxiv., 796.

And in this next we have both alliteration and assonance.

'Ek 5' huaTojxprjv firjOav kxijI^oXoo^ 'AnoXXcovt.

— Idem, i., 438.

Bis reject! armis respectant terga tegentes.

— yEneid, xi. , 630 : Virgil.

Adventusque virum, fremitusque ordescit equonim.

— Idem., 607.

Supplicia ! et scopulos lachrymosis vocibus implent.
Haec adei ex illo mihi jam speranda fuenint.

— Idem, 274, 275.
E el est bone e el est bele ;
Si est truvee en la gravele
De Libe, de cele cuntree.

— Early French Translation : Lapidaire de Marbode.

Et nous nous souvenous que nous marchions ensemble,
Que I'ame est immortelle, et qu'hier c'est demain.

— Sonnet on Victor Hugo : Alfred de Musset.

II re9oit, sans faiblir, cette Couronne oil pjse
La gloir da soixante rois.

— Le Sacre de Charles X.; I'iclcr Hugo.

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME. 1 29

Debio iraportar la batalla
Al que la perdio, perderla.
Que al que la gano, el ganarla.
Cipr. Concede ; pero debiera, etc.

— El Mdgico Prodigioso, i. : Calderon.

Mirad que es hombre en efecto ;
Esto OS digo y os respeto
Porque os fingisteis el rey.

— La Estrella de Sevilla, ii. : Lope de Vega.

Ed ecco a poco a poco un fummo farsi

Verso di noi, come la notte oscuro,

N4 da quello era loco da cansarsi.
Questo ne tolse gli occhi e 1' aer puro.

— Purgatorio, xv., 142-145 : Dante.

Weil sie sich nur befliss ein Weib zu sein,
Und um sie buhlt die Jugend und das Alter.

— Maria Stuart, ii. , 9 : Schiller.

Diese Richtung ist gewiss,
Immer schreite, schreite,
Finsterniss und Hinderniss
Drangt mich nicht zur Seite.

— Neugriechische Liebe-Skolien : Goethe.

It abounds too in poetry of our own tongue :

Alia tha theines

AUe tha sweines

Feire is crudde

Helde geond felde

Summe heo gunnen aeruen,

Summe heo gunnen urnen, etc.

— Layamon's trans, of Wace's Le Brut d'Angleterre.

Full swetely herd^ he confessioun.

— Canterbury Tales, Prologue: Chaucer.

So muchel of daliaunce and fair langage
He hadde maad ful many a mariage.

— Idem.

I30 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

So well they sped that they be come at length
Unto the place whereas the Paynim lay.

— Faerie Queene, i., 5 : Spenser.

Blind fear that seeing reason lead finds safer footing than blind reason
stumbling, without fear ; to fear the worst oft cures the worst.

— Troilus and Cressida, iii. , 3 : Shakespeare.

For then and not till then he felt himself
And found the blessedness of being little.

— Henry VIII., ii., 2 : Idem.

Her fruit trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined,
Her knots disordered and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillers. — Richard II., iii., 4 : Idem.

Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee.
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.

— Paradise Lost, iii. . Milton.

Of their great potentate ; for great indeed
His name, and high was his degree in heaven.

— Paradise Lost, v. : Idem.

Lofty and over-arched, with open space
Beneath the trees, clear-footing many a mile,
A solemn region.

— Thi Prelude : Wordsworth.

And the bay was white with silent light
Till rising from the same.

— Ancient Mariner : Coleridge.

Mortal warp and mortal woof
Cannot brook this charmed roof ;
All that mortal art has wrought
In our cell returns to nought.

— From the Monastery : Scott.

In the following notice the repetitions of the same
vowel-sounds in the words its, lips, in, with, ribb'd, drip.

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME. 131

and with, also in red, red, and ledges, as well as in field
and heath :

Its lips in the field above are dabbled with blood-red heath,
The red-ribbed ledges drip with a silent horror of blood.

— Maud ; Tennyson.

Some of the poets of Spain, especially the dramatists,
(see page 129) have made a point of employing assonance
as we do rhyme at the ends of lines. In English poetry
it is hardly admissible, except at places where rhymes are
not always expected or made prominent, but there have
been times when it was common, ^.^. :

When morning beams began to peep

Among the branches green
The lovers rose, and part to meet

And tell their love again.

— Ballad of the Hireman Chiel.

And Cloudesly lay ready there an a cart.

Fast bound, both foot and hand ;
And a strong rope about his neck,

All ready for a hang.

— Old Ballad of William of Cloudesly,

Notice this also :

Maiden, crowned with glossy blackness.

Lithe as panther forest-roaming,
Long-armed naiad, when she dances.

On a stream of ether floating.

— Spanish Gypsy : Geo. Eliot.

Rhyme results from putting like syllables at the ends of
different lines of verses or of half lines, or, sometimes, of
phrases. In the following, for instance, they are at the
ends of half lines :

132 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers

From the sea and the streams ;
I bear light shade for the sea when laid

In their noon-day dreams.

— The CUmd : Shelley.

And in this, they are at the ends of phrases :

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain,
Thrilled me, filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before.

— The Raven : E. A. Foe.

Here for a comic effect three in succession are at the
end of each line :

Even is come and from the dark park, hark,
The signal of the setting sun, — one gun.
And six is sounding from the chime, prime tune
To go and see the Drury Lane dane slain.
Or hear Othello's jealous doubt spout out,
Or Macbeth raving at that shade-made blade.

— Nocturnal Sketch : T. Hood.

And here a peculiar effect not otherwise different from
that of ordinary verse is produced by dropping one letter
from the beginning of each successive rhyming syllable :

I bless thee Lord because I GROW
Among the trees which in a row,
To thee both fruit and order ow.

What open force or hidden CHARM
Can blast my fruit or bring me HARM,
While the inclusure is thine ARM ?

— Paradise : Geo, Herbert.

As has been said before, alliteration and assonance
were used by the Hebrews at the beginnings of lines.
Rhyme they did not use, though it is employed to excess
among the present nations of the Orient, many of whose

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME. 1 33

so-called poems are made up of series of lines all of which
end with a similar syllable. Largely for this reason, per-
haps, some suppose that rhyming originated in the East ;
but the statement is made on good authority that it cannot
be traced farther back than the rymours of Normandy,
the troubadours of Provence, and the minnesingers of
Germany. It never occurred to the Greeks and Romans
to use rhymes as we do ; but, now and then, they seem
to have stumbled upon them ; or, possibly, recognizing
their effects, they intentionally introduced them into
their blank verse as Shakespeare sometimes does. In the
following we have not only assonance but rhyme :

/iaipoov ij yaXooDv, rj Eivarepoov svTtircXeov.

— Iliad, xxiv., 769 : Homer.
T^6iv S' ^AvSpo/jaxiJ XsvucoAsvoi r/px£ yooio,
'EMVopoi dvSpi (povoio KapTj iiETo. xepSiv s'xovda.

— Idem, 723, 724.

And here is alliteration, and what in English would be
an " allowable " rhyme :

Si causam clamat, crimenque, caputque malorum :
Multaque per tnoestrum demens effata furorem.

— Aeneid xii. , 600-601 : Virgil,

And we find other expressions like this, in which both
the er and the us suggest a recognition of rhyme-effects.

Terque quaterque manu pectus percussit honestum.

— Idem, i^j.

Rhymes are not found in England earlier than the
twelfth century, when Layamon used them in a transla-
tion of Wace's " Le Brut d'Angleterre," which was
rhymed in the original. About the time of Chaucer
they became common, and have continued so ever since.

Nor without good reason. Placed, as they are, at the

134 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

ends of lines, they serve to separate these, one from the
other, and to emphasize the element of form in their com-
position (see page 44). They do this, moreover, by
satisfying the distinctively artistic tendency of the mind
to compare and classify effects that are alike, indicating
clearly the length of each line, and which lines are meant
to correspond.

According to the principles now in vogue, there are five
conditions necessary to render the rhymes perfect. First :
In the rhyming syllables, the vowel-sounds (not neces-
sarily the vowel-letters) and whatever sounds (not letters)
follow them must be the same, e.g., burn, fern, earn; foal,
roll, dole. This same principle applies to double rhymes
of two syllables, like glory and hoary ; also to triple
rhymes like readily and steadily. In double and triple
rhymes the last syllables are unaccented.

Second : Rhyming syllables must always be accented;
sea does not rhyme with duty, nor wing vi'\X!s\ going. Only
in a parody of poetry could one sing,

New volumes came across the sea
For Mister Mudie's library.

— Captain Reece : Gilbert.

Third : In rhyming syllables the consonant-sounds
before the rhyming vowels must differ; e. g., meet and
•meat do not rhyme, but they both rhyme with sweet
or greet ; neither do light and delight rhyme, but they
both rhyme with might or bright. Indewd in the follow-
ing is a faulty rhyme :

Him shall he make his fatal instrument
T 'afflict the other Saxons unsubdewd ;
He marching forth with fury insolent

Against the good king Oswald, who, indewd
With heavenly power, etc.

— Faerie Queene, iii., 3 : Spenser.

ALLITERATION, ASSONANCE, AND RHYME. 135

Fourth : Rhymes, if used at all, should be perfect,
although the results of careless workmanship like the fol-
lowing are termed " allowable " :

A barbarous phrase no reader can approve
Nor bombast, noise, or affectation love.

■ — The Art of Poetry, after Boileau . Dryden.

Fifth : Rhymes should not be too far apart. It is one
of the simplest principles of art that effects should appear
to be what they are intended to be. Therefore rhyming
lines should not be so separated by intervening lines that
the ear will fail to detect that they are meant to go to-
gether.

Before leaving this subject, mention ought to be made
of a style of composition common among the Chinese,
and said to be required by some of their canons of
criticism. It is relative here, because it is evidently only
a different application of the same principle that with us
is exemplified in alliteration, assonance, and rhyme. In
accordance with this method, the same root-germ is
repeated in many or all of the principal words of the
same line. The resulting effect may be represented in
English as follows :

The physical physiognomy of the physician.
The philosophic Philadelphian philanthropist.
Servants that serve them vpith subservient servility.

CHAPTER IX.

COMPARISON BY WAY OF CONGRUITY, CENTRAL POINT,

PARALLELISM, ETC., AS DETERMINING THE

USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS.

Inartistic Effects of an Excessive Use of Alliteration, Assonance, and
Rhyme — Objections urged against Rhyme — These Forms should not be
Discarded, but Used in Accordance with the Art-Methods : Unity,
Variety, Comparison, Contrast — Congruity in Thought as Represented
in Sound-Effects — Applied to Alliteration and Assonance — Influence
of these upon Association and Memory — Illustration — Influence of
Incongruity — Of the Art-Method of Comprehensiveness — Methods of
Principality, Central-Point, Subordination, Setting, as Exemplified in
Sound-Arrangements — Correspondence in this Regard between Effects
of Poetic and Musical Harmony — Similar Actions of the Mind in both
Arts — Parallelism as Emphasized by Rhyme.

' I "HE peculiarity of poetry, as was shown in "Poetry
as a Representative Art," consists in the fact that
its medium is composed of words, which words, in turn,
are forms of thought. If, therefore, attention be directed
too exclusively to the form as form, the thoughts, which
alone give it real value, will not produce their legitimate
effects. For this reason, there is always an inartistic
tendency in any excessive use of alliteration, assonance,
or rhyme. Moreover, as explained in Chapters I. and
VI. of " Art in Theory," there is a sense in which all art-
products are artistic in the degree in which they are
natural. They appear most natural, of course, when

136

DETERMINING THE USE OF LIKE SOUNDS. 1 37

they appear most spontaneous. But too great attention
expended upon the mere selection of letter-sounds inter-
feres with spontaneity of effect. Excessive alliteration,
assonance, and rhyme suggest calculation, contrivance,
effort, and this of a character not very choice in quality.
They are all in themselves comparatively easy to pro-
duce ; and, unless entering into the formation of a word
exactly fitted to convey the meaning that is intended,
they suggest an unwarranted sacrifice of sense to the
mere jingling of sounds, and, therefore, a cheap form of
ornamentation. See " Poetry as a Representative Art,"
Chapters XIII. and XIV. Accordingly, there is the best
of justification for a parody such as this :

Holofernes : I will something affect the letter, for it argues facility.

The praiseful princess pierced and prick'd a pretty pleasing

pricket ;
Some say a sore ; but not a sore, till now made sore with
shooting.

— Lovers Labor 's Lost^ i v. , 2 : Shakespeare^

For somewhat similar reasons rhyme, too, has been
attacked. Ben Jonson, for instance, speaks of it as

Wresting words from their true calling.
Propping verse for fear of falling

To the ground ;
Jointing syllables, drowning letters.
Fastening vowels as with fetters
They were bound.

— Underwoods, xlviii. : A Fit of Rhyme against
[ Rhyme : B. Jonson.

Milton also, in his note at the opening of " Paradise
Lost," has his criticism to make about the "jingling of
words " ; and Dryden thus speaks against what he him-
self used constantly :

138 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Till barbarous nations and more barbarous times

Debased the majesty of verse to rhymes ;

Those rude at first : a kind of tinkling prose
! That limped along and tinkled at the close.
' — Epistle the Fifth : Dryden.

At the same time, we should err did we draw the infer-
ence that alliteration, assonance, and rhyme were to be
excluded from verse. They abound through all the range
of our poetry, and the mere fact that they are sometimes
misused is no reason why they should not be used at all.
Instead of saying, therefore, with Sidney Lanier, when
referring to the first two of them in his " Science of Eng-
lish Verse," that "perhaps no person who has never been
a practical craftsman in verse would be aware how care-
fully the technic of the word-artist unconsciously leads him
away from these recurrences," we had better accept the
truth, which is, as will be abundantly proved by the quo-
tations that are to follow, that these recurrences, because
used in accordance with the principle of grouping like
partial effects in unlike complex wholes, constitute of
themselves the very substance of verse-harmony. This
being so, to find out the methods necessary to an artistic
use of them, is to find out the secret — so far as mere
knowledge is concerned — of the poet's art. Nor can the
end of our endeavors here be obtained by a mere negative
statement of what should not be done. The only sure
way of learning how to avoid inartistic effects, is to learn
positively how to produce artistic ones. But how can we
do this? How better, in the case before us, than by
noticing the special applications to our particular subject
of the general principles unfolded in " The Genesis of Art-
Form," and represented on page 3 of the present book?
As fundamental to these principles, it was shown that the

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 1 39

main object of art is to accommodate the mind's desire
for unity to nature's fact of variety, and that this desire
is carried into execution by efforts at comparison con-
stantly modified by different tendencies in the direction
of contrast.

Of the methods described in " The Genesis of Art-
Form " as entering into the general effects of unity, com-
farison, moreover, when considered as conditioned upon
the requirements of the product, was shown to be mani-
fested by way either of likeness in the thought expressed in
forms, or congruity ; of likeness in the forms themselves, or
repetition ; or of likeness in the elements underlying both
congruity and repetition, which causes them to be allied
as in consonance. Let us now take up in succession each
of these methods — congruity, repetition, and consonance
— and notice the influence of each upon the use of alliter-
ation, assonance, and rhyme.

Likeness in the thought expressed, or likeness by way
of congruity, had evidently little to do with the origin of
any effects such as we are now considering. These are
almost entirely developed from the requirements of sound
as sound. Nevertheless, it must not be supposed that
here, any more than elsewhere in art, the requirements of
thought are wholly without influence. To begin with a
general principle capable of application to all that can be
said in this connection, notice that successive utterances,
in the degree in which they are alike, require less effort
not only of the physical powers but of the mental by
which the physical are controlled and interpreted. When
a man is called upon to articulate, or to hear a series of
sounds that are alike or allied, there is less to tax or
perplex his mind, than if they were unlike. As a result,
therefore, the ease of utterance obtained through a repe-

I40 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

tition of sounds has a tendency to cause the mind to
think that what is being said is of the same general
character as that which has been said ; in other words,
to cause the mind to group and to classify that which
is being uttered with that which has been uttered. That
this is so, may be brought out more clearly, perhaps, by
referring to an opposite fact. This fact is, that, in case
one wishes to convey the impression that what is being
said is not of the same general character as that which
has been said, but distinctly and importantly different
from it, he indicates this by giving to a word or phrase
— in elocution, say, in which art the fact is most apparent
— what is termed an emphasis. But how is elocutionary
emphasis of any kind imparted, except through applying
time, force, pitch, or quality in a method which contrasts,
in some way, with the method used with other accom-
panying words or phrases ?

Of course, for the very reason just mentioned, it follows
that these repeated sounds, if used to excess, become
wearisome not only to the ear, but also to the mind, which
does not relish the suggestion that no new idea is being
brought to its consideration. Nevertheless, here is a prin-
ciple in accordance with which congruous or like ideas, if
expressed in congruous or like sounds, have a tendency
to suggest such conceptions as those of association, con-
nection, or continuity. As Dr. Longmuir says in his pref-
ace to Walker's " Rhyming Dictionary," in language that
may be applied not only to alliteration but to assonance :

"When a subject is proposed for discussion or description it is surely
somewhat remarliable that so many of the words, appropriate to the subject,
should begin with the same letter. It is this consideration that probably would
lead down to the roots of our language and might discover the cause, why it
is so difficult altogether to eradicate alliteration from our speech. Thus were

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 141

Tve to take gold for an illustration, we should find that, under some aspects,
it glows, and in others gleams ; all grasp for it and many groan under it ; it
gilds the saloon, it glitters on the brow of beauty, and excites the gaze of the
multitude ; it has been used as a gag to the loquacious, <i goad to the indo-
lent, a guerdon to the poet, and, rarely, a gift to the meritorious. This sub-
ject, however, belongs rather to the profound philologist than to the mere
describer of the externals of our English poetry.''

Notice, too, in this connection what is said on page 135
of Chinese poetry. Its repetitious use of the root-germ is
evidently only a natural development of such a thought
as is suggested in this quotation from Dr. Longmuir.

Aside, too, from any connection or fancied connection
between sound and sense of the kind just indicated, there
is no doubt that the grouping of like effects of sounds,
giving, as it does, a like tone or color to different words,
causes them not only to be associated in mind, but, because
so, to be retained in memory, as otherwise would not be
the case. Notice how true this is in expressions like the
following :

" Money makes the mare go." " All is not gold that
glitters." " Penny wise, pound foolish." " Cleanliness
is next to godliness." " Chronic diseases must have
chronic cures." " The right man in the right place."

Of course, it follows that rhymes too have a similar
effect, e.g.:

Light gladdens, darkness saddens.

All are but parts of one stupendous whole
Whose body nature is, and God the soul.

— Essay on Man : Pope.

All nature is but art unknown to thee ;

All chance, direction which thou canst not see ;

All discord, harmony not understood ;

All partial evil, universal good ;

And spite of pride in erring reason's spite,

One truth is clear, Whatever is, is right.

— Idem.

142 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

There is, therefore, such a thing as having congruity of
thought manifested by congruity of sound. This is the
fact which excuses an occasional use of lines like the fol-
lowing, in the first of which the continual whistling of the
wind is represented in the w ; and in the second of which
the continual check put upon free vitality of movement
is represented in the d.

O wind, O wingless wind that walkst the sea,
Weak wind, wing-broken, wearier wind than we.

— On the Cliffs : Swinburne.

And dulled to death with deep dense funeral chime
Of their reiterate rhyme.

— Idem.

The converse too is true, of course, namely, that incon-
gruity of thought may be manifested by incongruity of
sound ; as here, by way of emphasis, to indicate general
mental incongruity :

What ? keep a week away ? seven days and nights ?
Eightscore eight hours, — and lover's absent hours, —
More tedious than the dial eightscore times ?

— Othello, iii. , 4 : SJiakespeare.

And here, by way of description, to indicate a special
incongruity connected with the conception of the thing
described :

Ay, in the catalogue ye go for men ;
As hounds and greyhounds, mongrels, spaniels, curs,
Shoughs, water-rugs, and demi-wolves are clep'd
All by the name of dogs.

— Macbeth, iii., I : Shakespeare.

Of course, too, so far as what is termed comprehensive-
ness, (see page 3 and " The Genesis of Art-Form," Chap-

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 143

ter IX.), can be represented in form as distinguished from
thought, this also would be indicated by a series of con-
gruous sounds, as in the first two lines of the following,
accompanied by a series of incongruous sounds, as in the
last lines.

And the muttering grew to a grumbling ;
And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling ;
And out of the house the rats came tumbling.
Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
Grave old plodders, gay young friskers.

Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
Cocking tails and pricking whiskers ;

Families by tens and dozens.

— The Pied Piper of Hamelin : R. Browning.

In " The Genesis of Art-Form " it was pointed out that
the recognition of likeness in thought was greatly facili-
tated by the like arrangement of unlike forms about a
central-point, itself occupied by the feature of principal
interest. It was shown that the concentration of the
lines or light upon this feature naturally concentrates
upon it the attention of the mind. The central-point is
thus a nucleus or focus of the grouping, and furnishes a
clew or key to interpret that to which the other features
of a composition are related, though only in thought. On
page 170 of the same volume, the corespondence between
this principle and the recurrence of the key-note in music
was pointed out. Occasionally we find poets, uncon-
sciously as it seems, producing a similar effect in the ar-
rangement of poetic sounds. By emphasizing through
arrangement one series of alliterations or assonances they
make this the principal or central series, to which all other
series in the passage are made subordinate, or are merely

144 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

used as a setting (see page 3). In the following, for in-
stance, the / which is used in the principal words, is the
principal alliteration, which only the majority of people
would notice. It occurs thirteen times, five times at the
beginning of a syllable, and six times at its end, and nine
times on accented syllables. Notice also — though this
anticipates what is to be observed hereafter — how the at-
tention is emphatically drawn away from the /-sounds,
first, by the assonant ^-sounds and «-sounds in the second
line, next by the assonant ^sounds in the third and fourth
lines, and lastly by the assonant ^-sounds, in beatns, sea,
and year. As a result of all these arrangements, the pas-
sage as a whole has a general sound-effect of great unity,
but secured in so artistic a manner as not to give the
slightest suggestion of the unnatural or artificial.

Ah, when sha// a// men's good
B« .fach man's r«/e, and /^niversa/ prace
Lie. like a shaft of light across the /and,
And like a /ane of b^ams athwart the s^a.
Through a// the circ/es of the Go/den Yt'ar ?

— TAe Golden Year : Tennyson,

According to another arrangement securing this unity
of effect, like sounds used on particularly emphatic
words are introduced near the beginning, and also some-
where in the middle and finally at the end of a sentence.
This too is identical with an arrangement recognized to
be satisfactory in music, where often the key-note of a
melody is sounded at these places. Each sentence in the
following is constructed on this principle. In the first,
notice the em followed by the our, powers, and how, and
then by ^«, en, en. In the second, notice repair, calamity,
and despair; also in the intervening clauses, the own, over.

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. I45

force, and hope, which last sound, too, as arranged, might
end a climax, with the re and we as the intervening
assonance.

And reassembling (;ur afflicted powers
Consult how we may henceforth most offend
Our enemy. Our own loss how repair ;
How overcome this dire calamity ;
What reinforcement we may gain from hope ;
If not, what resolution from despair.

— Paradise Lost, i. : Milton.

In this, notice the long a (including ei) with the interven-
ing assonances of short a, and of or :

So were created, nor can justly accuse
Thej'r maker or their making or thez'r fate.

— Paradise Lost, iii. : Milton.

These connections between characteristics of harmony
as produced in music and in poetry are mainly interesting
as showing — what will be brought out more clearly here-
after — how analogously the mind works when securing,
though unconscious of its method, either musical or poetic
unity of effect. No one can fail to detect in both arts
the operation of the same general principle. In both the
emphatic sounds after starting at one point, circle off, as
we may say, bringing in other emphatic sounds, and then
after returning at intervals, at last return finally to the
point from which they started. On page 105 a typical
rhythm is shown to be representative of either a poetic
or a musical movement ; and here the same may be said
to be shown of a typical series of tones.

The chief effect, in this connection, of rhyme or of as-
sonance, when used, as indicated on page 131, instead of

146 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

rhyme, is to emphasize the parallelism (see page 3), which,
as indicated on page 29 is exemplified in all versifica-
tion. To perceive parallelism in unrhymed blank verses,
it is often necessary to see them printed ; but in succes-
sive lines ended with the same sounds, the ear recognizes
it at once.

CHAPTER X.

REPETITION, ALTERNATION, CONSONANCE, INTER-
CHANGE, ETC., AS DETERMINING THE
USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS.

Repetition and Alternation as Influencing the Use of Alliteration, Asson-
ance, and Rhyme — Of Alternation as Developed from Parallelism and
Balance — Balancing Series of Sounds — In Whole Words that are Alike
— ^How these Exemplify Alternation — Balancing Series of Sounds alike
by Alliteration or Assonance — From the Greek, Latin, Spanish,
French, German, English — Excess in this to be Avoided — Massing as
a Corrective of Excessive Balance or Alternation — And Interspersion
as Corrective of Excessive Massing — Also Complication and Continuity
— Poetic Examples of these Methods — Consonance as Applied to
Sounds ; Phonetic-Syzygy — Examples of the Use of Allied Consonant-
Sounds — Of Allied Vowel-Sounds — Dissonance and Interchange in
Music — In Poetic Sounds — Illustrations.

A S has been said before, and it may as well be recalled
here for the encouragement of those who may
possibly have found what they consider an unnecessary
amount of subtlety in the statements of the last chapter,
likeness in thought by way of congruity is exemplified to
only a limited extent by the use of alliteration, assonance,
and rhyme. What is usually exemplified, is likeness in
form by way of repetition (see page 3). What repetition
is in itself needs no explanation. We need to consider
only the ways in which it is modified by the natural ten-
dencies always influencing it when nature is allowed to
assert herself. These are in the direction of contrast as

147

148 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

shown in alteration and of complement as shown in alter-
nation. Alliteration, assonance, and rhyme can evidently
be varied by altering the letter-sounds with which, in suc-
cessive syllables, they are combined. This introduces,
and sometimes very effectively, the element of contrast.
Notice, in the following, how the repetition of syllables
in which, as usually in Anglo-Saxon, vowels and con-
sonants are both alike, serves to accentuate the effect of
likeness, and increase whatever impression of a lack of
spontaneity or of naturalness they may convey.

All the wandering waves of sea with all their warring waters
Roll the record on forever of the sea-fight there.

— Athens : Swiniurnt.

But lightning still and darkling downward, lo
The light and darkness of it,
The leaping of the lamping levin afar
Between the full moon and the sunset star.

— The Garden of Cymodoce : Idem.

Notice also what was said of rhymes under the third\i&z.6.,
on page 134.

Mere alteration, however, is not all that is necessary in
order to remedy the effects of excessive alliteration or as-
sonance. Let us pass on to the modifications of these
that are sugge.sted by the methods in the column on page
3, in which we find complement, balance, parallelism, and
alternation. Notice, first, that in order that there should
be any effect of alliteration, assonance, or rhyme, two like
sounds are necessary. But even these two sounds would
not always emphasize the effect so that the ear would
necessarily, though possibly unconsciously, experience its
artistic influence, unless it were followed by other like
sounds. If followed by sounds exactly like the first two,
we should have simple repetition. But we are consider-

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 1 49

ing now modifications of this. Evidently, the earliest
suggested modification of it would be to have a series of
two like sounds followed by another different series of two
like sounds. In this case we should have two separate
instances of comparison ; or comparison as a principal
method together with variety. If now, recalling that va-
riety is artistic in the degree in which it really conforms
to the principle of unity, the poet chooses, for his second
series, sounds decidedly different from those in his first
series, he will produce the effect of contrast. But, as ele-
ments of a single unity, comparison and contrast together,
even if there were not two series of sounds, would neces-
sitate complement ; and this, as shown in the list of
methods on page 3, is that from which are developed
balance, comprehensiveness, parallelism, and the alternation
for which we are here in search.

We are able now to give a good reason, and one appa-
rently little understood, why poets so often when they
use like sounds use two that balance each other ; and, not
only so, but often use different series of these balancing
sounds, taking care, also, to have the sounds of the one
series such as will naturally contrast with those of another
series, as, for instance, / contrasts with h, or b with s, or u
with a, or o with e.

Sometimes this method fulfills the principle of balance
in its most technical sense, in that both factors of a series
are alike in all regards, e. g. :

Dowered with the hate of hate, the scorn of scorn.
The love of love,

— The Poet : Tennyson.

With ruin upon ruin, rout on rout
Confusion worse confounded.

— Pardise Lost, ii. : Milton.

ISO RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Bright bank over bank

M-siking ^/oriaus i\\Q gloom.
Soft rank upon rank.

Strange bloom upon bloom.
They kindle the liquid low twilight and dusk of the dim sea's womb.

Off Shore : Swinburne.

Notice also several different ways in which the above
may be said to exemplify the principle of alternation:
first, in the regular succession of accented followed by
unaccented syllables ; second, in the succession of at least
two similar accented syllables, though separated by unlike
accented syllables ; third, in the series of two measures,
both having a similar accented syllable followed by
another series of two measures, both having a similar ac-
cented syllable, which, however, contrasts with the ac-
cented syllables in the first series, and fourth, in the
arrangement of the lines, only every other one of which
has a like rhyme.

More frequently, however, as influenced by the tenden-
cies inclining to counteraction, complement, a.x\d parallelism,
the balancing factors differ somewhat, fulfilling the
method not only of repetition, but also of alternation.
Notice in this the sounds of av and rj:

Iliad, iv., 132 : Homer.

In this the sounds of u and c :

Corripuere, ruuntque effusi carcere currus.

— Georgica, iii., 104: Virgil.

Here are instances of balance in almost every line, in
some cases, too, of whole words.

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. IS I

Dios, 4 quien ninguno iguala,
Un principio sin principio,
Una esencia una sustancia,
Un poder y un querer solo ;
Y cuando como este haya
Una, dos 6 mas personas,
Una deidad soberana,
Ha de ser sola en esencia,
Causa de todas las causas.

— El Mdgico Prodigiosan i., Calderon,

In this notice the sounds of s, p, and several of ou :

Muse, sois done sans crainte ; au souffle qui t'inspire
Nous pouvons sans peril tous deux nous confier.
II est doux de pleurer, il est doux de sourire
Au souvenir des maux qu'on pourrait oublier.

— La Nuit d'Octobre : Alfred de Mussel,

In this, the sounds of o, u, e, and a :

La dov' io piu sicuro esser credea :

Quel da Esti il fe'far, che m'avea in ira, etc.

— Purg., v., 76,77 : Dante.

In this, the sounds of i, u, i and ei, with balancing
phrases in the third line :

Bin ich nicht immer noch veil Muth und Lust ?
Und Lust und Liebe sind die Fittige
Zu grossen Thaten.

Grosse Thaten? Ja,
Ich weiss die Zeit.

— Iphigenie auf Tauris, ii., i .■ Goethe.

In this, the sounds of s, f, zv, u, and c :

Snatcheth his sword and fircely to him flies
Who well it wards, and quiteth cuff with cuff.

— Faerie Queene, i., 3 : Spenser.

152 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

In this, the sounds of o, wa, s, and e:

Tho' those the waters warp,
Thy sting is not so sharp,

As friend remembered not.

— As You Like It, ii., 7: Shakespeare,

In this, the sounds of a, y, or i, w, and o :

I am misanthropes and hate mankind ;
For thy part I do wish thou wert a dog
That I might love thee something.

— Timon of Athens, iv., 3 : Idem.

In these, the sounds of h, fl, st, 00, w, p, r, a, a, not to
speak oi t and d:

As head and heels upon the floor

They floundered all together.
There strode a stranger to the door.

And it was windy weather.

The wild wind rang from park and plain

And round the attics rumbled,
Till all the tables danced again.

And half the chimney tumbled.

— The Goose : Tennyson,

And many examples of balance in these :

Be with my spirit of song as wings to bear.
As fire to feel and breathe and brighten ; be
A spirit of sense more deep of deity,
A light of love, if love may be, more strong
In me than very song.

— The Garden of Cymodoce : Swinburne.

Sharp and soft in many a curve and line
Gleam and glow the sea-colored marsh-mosses,

Salt and splendid from the circling brine
Streak on streak of glimmering sunshine crosses

All the land sea-saturate as with wine.

—By the North Sea : Idem.

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 153

The last quotations show us that this balancing of com-
plementary sounds, if continued with too great regularity,
may itself become as monotonous as a succession of like
tones that are not balanced. Where alliteration and
assonance are both used, as in the last quotation from
Shakespeare, there is less of this tendency, but even there
it may be present.

Let us go on, therefore, to notice in what other ways
inartistic effects may be avoided. Of course, the first
suggested of these ways, if repetition be used at all, is to
increase the number of the collective instances of it ; and
the first result of this would be the effect termed massing
(see page 3). As explained in " The Genesis of Art-
Form," the influence of this effect upon the mind is to
call attention to the thought represented in the sounds
by a reiteration of them ; and, when there is justification
for this, massing is allowable. Notice the whispering of
the conspirators as represented in the continued repetition
of the s in the following :

Who rather had,
Though they themselves did suffer by it, behold
Dissentious numbers pestering streets, than see
Our tradesmen singing in their shops and going
About their functions friendly.

— Coriolanus, iv. , 6 ; Shakespeare,

Also the accumulation of the effects of horror in the con-
tinued use of the assonant o in this :

All these and thousand thousands many more,
And more deformed monsters thousand-fold,
With dreadful noise and hollow rombling roar.
Came rushing.

— Faerie Queene, 2, 12, 25 : Spenser.

154 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

There is always in this method, however, a tendency to
the unnatural and artificial, e.g. :

No foote to foe ; the flashing fier flies
As from a forge.

— Faerie Queene^ I, 2, 17 : Spenser.

This tendency can be prevented by the method con-
trasting with it, which is termed on page 2 interspersion.
This means merely the use of like forms not massed
together but separated in some way. Evidently it will
lead to results not greatly superior to those illustrated on
page 1 1 1 unless it be very artistically developed. The
artistic development of it, as of all the methods in the
same column with it on page 3, is found in considering its
connection with that phase of cotmteraction, complement,
balance, parallelism, and alternation which we have in
complication. As said in Chapter XIV. of " The Genesis
of Art-Form," this word, like parallelism, continuity,
and many others used in art, is borrowed from one indi-
cating relationships of lines. It means a folding or blend-
ing together primarily of these, but, secondarily, of any
forms, which, as Charles Blanc says in his "Art in Orna-
ment and Dress," " penetrate, intersect, balance, and cor-
respond to each other, approach to retreat, and touch
one moment to depart the next, and dissolve themselves
in a labyrinth without outlet and without end. The
Arabs have thus realized the strange phenomenon which
consists in producing an apparent disorder by means of
the most rigid order."

What characterizes this method, is the appearance of
one form followed by its disappearance, and the appear-
ance of a second form, or series of forms ; then the dis-

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 15$

appearance of this second form or series of forms, fol-
lowed by the reappearance of the first form, and so on.
Especially does this reappearance characterize the effects
of complication when they are blended with those of
continuity, as should be the case in poetry — an art the
medium of which is always a form of movement. It is
not necessary to explain in what way complication, as
thus employed, involves a blending of the effects of
balance and alternation. In it, instead of having two like
sounds of one series followed by two like sounds of
another different series, we hear one sound followed by
a different one ; then a repetition of the same contrast in
the same order. If, besides this, the phrases containing
the unlike sounds differ in length, especially if their differ-
ence cause the sounds to be further apart in one phrase
than in the other, then this additional inequality evidently
counteracts still further the tendency to monotony. No-
tice, in the following, the how and then the hounds, fol-
lowed by horn in the one phrase, and the rouse followed
by morn in the next phrase :

Oft listening how the kouri^s and \^orn
Cheerily tou%q. the slumbering morn.

— -V Allegro : Milton.

Notice in this the lo and the e, and the contrasts in the
a and / and the o and / in mackerel and oyster :

The herring loves the merry moon/ight,

The mackerel loves the wind,
The oyster loves the drfdging sang.

For they come of a gentle kind.

— From ^' The Antiquary" : Scott.

In this the show and some, and fore and come :

156 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

A day in ^pril never came so sweet

To show how costly sammer was at hand

As this fOTe-sparrer comes.

— Merchant of Venice, ii. , g ; Shakespeare,

And the m and u in both phrases in this :

For »zen, like b«tterflies.
Show not their mealy wings bat to the summer.

— Troilus and Cressida, iii. , 3 : Idem.

We now come to consonance. This affords a way of
using sounds in accordance with the methods on page 3,
which in many cases enables an artist, while fulfilling all
the requirements of his art, nevertheless absolutely to
conceal it.

As explained in Chapter VIII. of " The Genesis of Art
Form," consonance is caused by likeness of effects as pro-
duced partly upon the mind and partly upon the senses.
In poetic form, it would lead to the u6e together of sounds
allied rather than alike. For instance, b and p may be
said to be allied, in the sense, too, of being consonant.
They differ in that b has a preliminary sound, and / has
none. But they are so nearly alike that the mind often
confounds them, as is proved in the history of deriva-
tions ; and so too does the ear, as is proved by the
endeavor of a foreigner to imitate the pronunciation of a
native word containing one of them. For the same rea-
sons z/ and /"also are allied and consonant ; and so, though
less clearly, are all four of these consonants — b,p, v, and/.
The same thing may be afifirmed of d and /, of i/t (hard),
and t/i (soft), and of all four; also of k {c hard or q) and
g hard ; of j {g soft) and ch soft ; of m and «, of / and r,
of z and s, of zh and sh, of the consonants,;' and/, also of
y and long u. A succession of sounds thus allied is

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 1 57

termed by Professor Sylvester, in his " Laws of Verse,"
phonetic syzygy.

To confirm what has been said, notice that, in the fol-
lowing, p, b, V, and / have almost the same effects as
alliteration, but without any suggestion of artificial mech-
anism such as might result were these letters identical :

Not to us is given to share

The boon bestowed on Adam's race.

With patience bide,

Heaven will provide
The fitting time, the fitting guide.

—From "The Monastery" : Scott.

Round thee blow, self-pleached deep,
Bramble roses faint and pale.

— A Dirge : Tennyson.

I '11 frown and be perverse, and say thee nay
So thou wilt woo, but else not for the world.

— Romeo and Juliet, iii., 2 : Shakespeare.

His love was an eternal plant

Whereof the root was fixed in virtue's ground.

The leaves and fruit maintained with beauty's sun.

■ — Henry VI, pt. Ill, iii., 13 : Idem.

Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense.

Richard II., iii., 2 : Idem.

So, in the following, notice each d and t :

Touch it and take it, 't will dearly be bought.

— From ' ' The Monastery " : Scott.

Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou livest
And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends !

— Richard III., i. , 3 : Shakespeare.

158 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

If ever he have child, abortive may he be
Prodigious and untimely brought to light.

— Richard III., i., 2 : Idem.

These show a resemblance between / and r :

Have I not heard great ord'nance in the field
And heaven's artillery thunder in the skies ?
Have I not in pitched battles heard
Loud 'larums, neighing steeds, and trumpets' clang ?

— Taming of the Shrew, i. , 2 . Idem.

The following, between g, c, ch, and th :

With some fine color that may please the eye
Of fickle changeUngs and poor discontents
Which gape and rub the elbows at the news
Of hurly-burly innovation.

— Henry IV., pt. r, v., i : Idem.

For in revenge of my contempt of love

Love hath chased sleep from my enthralled eyes.

— Two Gentlemen of Verona, ii., 4 ; Idem.

The following, between m and n :

O let me not be mad, not mad, sweet heaven.
Keep me in temper. I would not be mad.

— King Lear, i., 5 : Idem.

And these will illustrate sufficiently what was said of the
remaining letters :

Assure yourself after our ship did split.

When you and that poor number saved with you.

Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother.

— Twelfth Night, i., 2 : Ident.

And slow and sure comes up the golden year.

— The Golden Year : Tennyson.

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 1 59

There are also allied vowel sounds, like those in quill
and quell, not and what, fat and fair, fan and fine, their
and there, hall and whole, but and put, full and fool, pull
and pure, lawn and loin, pool zxiA power , pair a^nd. peer , etc.
Notice, besides the assonances in the following, the re-
semblances between the sounds of all and down, darling
and life, and tomb and sounding.

And so all the night-tide I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea.

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

— Annabel Lee : Poe.

Notice in this the allied sounds of o, ou, oo, and u, as well
as how appropriate all of them are to represent the cloud
from which the lightnings are shot :

With iron-worded proof, hating to hark

The humming of the drowsy pulpit-drone.

Half God's good Sabbath, while the worn-out clerk

Brow-beats his desk below. Those from a throne,

Mounted in heaven wilt shoot into the dark

Arrows of lightnings. I will stand and mark.

— Sonnet to J. M. K. : Tennyson,

The method opposed to consonance which is caused by
the conditions of nature is dissonance — an effect that may-
be illustrated, so far as it is inartistic, by the passages on
pages III and 112, and so far as it is artistic, because rep-
resentative of the sense, by those on pages 142 and 143.
Its artistic accommodation to consonance, viewed as a
form of sound, is found — in analogy to what is true of all
the methods occupying corresponding places in the
columns above it in the chart on page 3 — in that phase of
counteraction, complement, and balance, which, in this case,

l6o RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

is termed interchange. The function of this method as
interpreted by its use in music, an art in which the effects
of consonance are particularly prominent, is pointed out
in Chapter XV. of " The Genesis of Art-Form," as well as
in Chapter XV. of the present essay. In these places
it is shown that, in passing from one chord to another,
the ear, in order to preserve the unity of effect, requires
the presence in both chords of the same note ; and that,
when, through the second chord, the music enters a differ-
ent key, it requires what sometimes is, in a sense, an arbi-
trary introduction into the first chord of a note legitimate
only to the second chord.

With this understanding of the function of interchange
in music, notice in the following how, in every case, before
one series of like tones is ended, another series is begun.
The effect resembles — indeed it often includes — that de-
scribed as complication ; but it differs because containing
nothing necessarily to suggest a regularity of balance,
there being no order of sounds in one series which is fol-
lowed exactly by an order of sounds in a succeeding
series. In this passage from Milton, notice how the like
sounds of y, b, s, or w, and of the p as allied to the 6 are
thus introduced into other series coming before or after
them, and introduced in such a way as to separate them
from the series to which, as like sounds, they belong.
Notice, also, that, as a result, the sounds of the whole pas-
sage are so blended together as to produce a general effect
of unity, in exact analogy with that which is done by
methods of modulation, as the term is understood, in music.

The air
T^loats as they /ass, fanned with «nn«inbered /lames.
From branch to Itranch the jmaller ^irds ztrith song
Solaced the woods and j^read their painted wings.''

— Paradise Lost . Milton.

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. l6l

In the following, one principal series beginning with
further ends at /luttered ; another beginning at farther
ends with mattered ; another beginning with the first th(?n
passes on through friends to the last th^n ; and still
another, starting with mwe ends at neverm<?re.

Nothing further then he uttered ; nor a feather then he fluttered,
Till I scarcely more than muttered " Other friends have flown before."
Then the bird said " Nevermore."

— The Raven : Foe.

T^otice the quotation from Tennyson on page 144, as
•well as the following. Indeed, were it necessary, illustra-
tions of this method could be gathered in abundance
from writers of every nation.

Zwei Blumen, rief er, hort es, Menschenkinder.
Zwei Blumen bluhen fur den weisen Finder,
Sie heissen Hoffnung und Genuss.

— ResignaAon : Schiller.

CHAPTER XI.

GRADATION, ABRUPTNESS, CONTINUITY, AND PROGRESS
AS DETERMINING THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS.

Importance, in aU the Arts as an Element of Harmony, of Gradation — Logi-
cal Connection between it and the Use of Allied Sounds : All Possible
Syllable-Sounds can be Graded and Arranged in a Series — So can
. Words, though Containing both Consonants and Vowels — -Degrees of
Phonetic Gradation Determined by the Manner of Utterance and Kinds
of their Gradation by the Direction of the Changes in Utterance : Analo-
gies between Gradation in Words and in the Musical Scale — Illustra-
tions of Gradation in Verse — Especially in the Accented Syllables —
Analogy between One Effect of it and the Discord of the Seventh in
Music — Variety in Verse Harmony as Produced by the Combination of
all the Methods here Considered — Abruptness in Verse Harmony —
Transition and Progress — Examples.

TV /TORE subtle methods of securing verse-harmony
still remain to be considered. In the list of
these on page 3 under and after consonance, we shall
find gradation, abruptness, transition, and progress — all
of which, as will be shown presently, fulfill very im-
portant artistic functions, not only in connection with
music, but also with poetry. There is a kind of harmony
resulting from mere consonance ; but this would give no
more than the notes of the common chords for a gamut
of music, colors as widely separated as the primary, or
the secondary, or the complimentary, for a gamut of pig-
ments, and only like or allied alliterations, assonances, or
rhymes for a gamut of verse. But in all three arts,

162

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 1 63

gamuts are constructed upon the principle of gradation.
The result is melody in music, tone in painting, and
a corresponding effect in poetry, that is now to be
explained.

The reason in nature for using gradation was stated on
page 268 of "The Genesis of Art-Form." The reason
for developing its possibilities in either of the arts of
sound follows logically from what has been said of allied
sounds. If one sound be allied in one way to a second
sound that differs from it slightly, why cannot this second
be allied in an analogous way to a third, and the third to
a fourth ? The moment that we ask this question an
afifirmative answer is suggested, and we find that we can
arrange the sounds of the consonants and also of the
vowels in a graded scale in which they all differ from one
another in approximately similar degrees, each produced
by a movement of the vocal organs a little further in the
same direction as that in which they were moving when
pronouncing the sound next before it. For instance,
starting the articulation as far back in the mouth as pos-
sible, we can get a series represented — approximately, in
a case where it is mainly necessary to consider the effect
upon the ear — in the sounds of the initial letters of the fol-
lowing : hay, keep, jar, chaise, shall, you, roll, lune, dole,
toll, zone, (a)zure, soon, noon, this, thin, moon, bat, pop,
van, fan, way, whey. The same order of utterance ap-
plied to the vowel-sounds, irrespective of their associated
consonants, will give us a series like long u, o, i, a, e. To
extend this including short-vowels and diphthongs, will
give us a series something like the sounds in mute, m.oot,
foot, bone, bound, boil, dawn, fall, file, far, fair, but, bat,
bail, met, it, eat.

Of course, in actual words, consonants and vowels are

164 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

usually joined, and, in the same syllable, the vocal organs
in passing from one to another consonant-sound, may
move in one direction ; and in passing from one to an-
other vowel-sound, they may move in another direction.
But this fact, while it complicates the application of the
principle, does not make it impossible ; and frequently,
by suggesting likeness through the sound of one letter
and unlikeness through the sound of another, introduces
complementary effects of the most artistic character.
Words as words, sometimes on account of their conso-
nants, sometimes on account of their vowels, sometimes
on account of the blendings of both, can be arranged so
that the order of the articulation of tones from the back
to the front of the mouth, or the reverse, shall continue
to be the same.

What has been said implies that there are two applica-
tions of this method of phonetic gradation. The first
causes each of a series of sounds to differ from the one
nearest it in a like degree. The second causes it to differ
by a movement of the organs in a like direction. Of the
two, the second is the more important ; and it is worthy
of notice that the same is true of these methods as
applied to the use of musical scales. Gradation performs
a more important office in guiding the general direction
of the voice upward or downward, than in leading it up-
ward or downward by regular degrees.

If we examine our popular poetry we shall be surprised
to find how full it is of this phonetic gradation, to which,
as it has never been an acknowledged poetic effect, we
can only suppose that delicate taste and a desire to pro-
vide for ease of utterance have led the poets uncon-
sciously. Look at these verses. The music and charm
of them everybody recognizes. Now notice how largely

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 165

the effect is produced by the gradation of the sounds.
This is perfect in the accented vowels of the first and of
the second lines, in the accented consonants preceding
the vowels of the third line, and in both vowels and con-
sonants in each of the two halves of the fourth line.

Tell me not in mournful numbers

Life is but an empty dream,
For the soul is dead that slumbers,

And things are not what they seem.

— The Psalm of Life : Longfellow.

Notice the gradation in the accented syllables of each
of these lines :

Till death have broken
Sweet life's love token.
Till all be spoken

That shall be said,
What dost thou praying,
O soul ! and playing
With song and saying

Things flown and fled ?

— Anima Anceps : Swinburne.

Who rowing hard against the stream
Saw distant gates of Eden gleam'
And did not dream it was a dream.

— Two Voices : Tennyson.

The was in this last line prepares for the closing of the
series of gradations in very much the same way as the dis-
cord of the seventh that precedes the last note of a mu-
sical melody. Notice, too, how the sounds move forward
or backward in each of the phrases of the following :

O such a deed
As from the body of contraction plucks
The very soul ; and sweet religion makes
A rhapsody of words.

— Hamlet, iii., 4 : Shakespeare.

' Between d and g, each used twice.

l66 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Finally, notice in this, a combination of gradation and
of balance, through effects in succession of long u, broad
a or oi, and ou :

And Tamult and Confusion all imbrailed
And Discord with a thousand various moaths.

— Paradise Lost, ii. : Milton.

Abruptness, as distinguished from gradation, needs no
further illustration than is given in the quotation on page
112. The following might be termed an artistic use of it
intended to represent the sense :

Though the yesty waves
Confound and swallow navigation up ;
Though bladed corn be lodg'd, and trees blown down ;
Though castles topple on their warders' heads ;
Though palaces and pyramids do slope
Their heads to their foundations ; though the treasure
Of nature's gennins tumble altogether,
Ev'n till destruction sicken, — answer me
To what I ask you.

— Macbeth, iv., i : Shakespeare.

Transition is the result when, through methods of in-
terchange, described on page 160, series of what we may
term principal sounds are made to pass into one another
in such ways as to continue, notwithstanding abruptness,
the effect of unity as in gradation and yet secure that
also of artistic progress. In the following notice how
a principal long ^-sound, through a subordinate short
<7-sound interchanged with it and the short ^-sound, passes
into a principal long «>-sound, then into a principal long
^-sound, then into a principal long ^sound, and then into
a principal short w-sound :

THE USE OF LIKE POETIC SOUNDS. 167

In the sjlence ol the nj'ght
How we shiver with affr/ght
At the wdancholy Wi^nace of their tone !
For ^very sound that floats
From the rust within their throats

Is a groan.
And the people — oh, the people —
They that dwell up in the steeple

All alone,
And who, felling, /oiling, felling.

In that OTuffled monotone.
Feel a glory in so rolling

On the haman heart a stone,
They are neither man nor woman.
They are neither brate nor haman.

They are Gho«ls.

— The Bells : Poe.

Notice similar methods of transition in the following,
and how much more subtle and, because the method is
concealed, how much more artistic and satisfactory is its
music than that which is produced according to the more
common and apparent methods represented on pages 122
to 130:

FoUow'd with acclamation, and the jo«nd
Symphonious of /en /hoasand harps that ifuned
Angelic harmonies ; the earth, the air,
Resoanded.

— Paradise Lost, vii : Milton.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams

Of the beaatiful Annabel Lee,
And the stars never rzVe but I feel the bn'ght eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.
And so all the n/ght-tj'de / \ie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my h'fe and my bride.

In her jepulchre there by the sea,

In her tomb by the jo«nding jea.

— Annabel Lee : Poe.

CHAPTER XII.

ANALOGIES BETWEEN THE USE OF QUALITY AND PITCH
IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Each of these Arts Developed Independently, yet Sounds as Used in Both
are Connected — Every Vowel Has a Quality of its Own — Also a Pitch —
Not Essential for our Purpose to Know what this Pitch Is — Only the
Fact — In Passing from One Word to Another we Pass to a Different
Pitch, and in Using Different Vowel and Consonant Sounds Together
in One Word we Produce Effects Allied to Chords — These Effects
Augmented by Upward and Downward Inflections Used in Reading,
Causing Analogies to Musical Melody and Harmony — Different Kinds
of Verse-Melody Produced by Different Arrangements of Sounds and
Accents — -Tunes of Verse as Determined by the Rhythm — Illustrations
— -Melody and Harmony, though Existing in Both Poetry and Music,
Are Different in Each Art — Every Possible Pitch of the Voice can be
Used in Poetry ; Only Notes of Some Selected Pitch in Music — The
Cause of this Difference to be Found in the Difference between the
Expressional Possibilities of Articulated and Inarticulated Sounds —
Early Musicians did Not Know all their Reasons for Constructing Musi-
cal Scales — But, Judging by Effects, were Led, as is Now Known, in All
Cases to Put together Like Partial Effects of Unlike Complex Wholes.

TT is natural to suppose that the laws of sound work
analogously in poetry and in music, but as, histori-
cally, each of these arts is developed in accordance with
independent tendencies of its own, it has been thought
best up to this point to treat poetry precisely as would
have been done, had music never existed. But one object
of this series of essays is to show the correspondences be-
tween the arts ; and on this account not only, but because

i68

QUALITY AND PITCH IN POETRY AND MUSIC. 169

of the way in which the known facts of music confirm
many of the statements already made here, it seems im-
portant to add a few words showing in what sense quality
and pitch, and the melody and harmony resulting from
them, exist in both arts and are subject to the same laws,
though these are manifested in each of them, because
designed for a different purpose, in a different way.

As stated in Chapter VIII. of " Poetry as a Represen-
tative Art," where the fact was mentioned in order to
show the significance of the sounds of speech, instruments
have been constructed by means of which sounds can be
analyzed and their component tones distinctly and defi-
nitely noted. As a consequence, it has been found that
every vowel has a quality of its own different from that
of any other vowel. But quality, as will be shown in
Chapter XIII., is determined by the pitch of different
partial tones which are blended with the prime or princi-
pal tone, and which enter into it as component parts.

If, therefore, every vowel has a quality of its own, does
it not follow that it must also have a pitch of its own ?
This question was answered in the affirmative some years
ago by Donders, who discovered that the cavity of the
mouth, when whispering each of the different vowels, is
tuned to a different pitch. Accordingly, the voice, when
pronouncing vowel-sounds, at whatever key in the musi-
cal scale it may start them, has a tendency to suggest — if
not through its main, or what is termed its /rzw^ tone,
at least through associated, or what are termed its
partial tones — that pitch which is peculiar to the vowel
uttered.

Exactly what this pitch is, in the case of each vowel, it
is not important for us to know here. In fact, it has not
yet been definitely determined. Helmholtz, in his " Sen-

170 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

sations of Tone," says, for instance, that the series, which
may be represented in English by a in father, a in man, e
in there, and ?in machine, ioxvtvs, an ascending minor chord
of C"— thus: d"'—g"'—b"'flat—d""; and the following
represents the results of Merkel's experiments with the
German vowels given in his " Physiologie der Menschli-
chen Sprache " :

tJOO<iA O V A E I

All that concerns us at present is the fact that there is
a pitch peculiar to these vowels. By consequence, when
different vowel-sounds are heard, sounds of different pitch
are heard, or at least suggested. But besides this, the
consonants, especially the sonants, m, n, I, y, r, b, v, d,
J, g, w, th, z, all necessitate some pitch when they are
pronounced, and it is not likely to be the same as that
suggested by their accompanying vowel.

From these facts two inferences follow : First, that when-
ever two syllables, whether containing sounds of different
vowels or consonants or of both, are uttered in succession,
we have a succession of tones that differ in pitch. This is
the same as to say that whenever we use consecutively
words that are not pronounced exactly alike, we produce,
in just as true a sense as when singing a melody, an effect
of passing from one pitch to another. The second infer-
ence is that whenever sounds of two different vowels or
of vowels and consonants that constitute a syllable are
uttered simultaneously, they produce a blending of tones
that differ in pitch, or, in other words, an effect corre-
sponding to that which is heard in musical harmony. In-
deed, the music of the speaking voice, as distinguished
from the singing, is characterized mainly by the harmony

QUALITY AND PITCH IN POETRY AND MUSIC. I/I

that results from this blending of the consonant-sounds
with the vowel-sounds, the latter being often in singing
the only sounds that are heard, and always the only sounds
that are made prominent. Of course, too, there is a sense
in which the utterance of the component parts of any
single syllable, especially when these are the two vowels
of a diphthong, resembles more an effect of quality than of
harmony. But sometimes, as in the case of an inflection
which begins at one pitch and ends at another, it is more
like that of harmony. Moreover, it is to be noted that at
all times, as will be shown in Chapter XV., the effects of
quality and of harmony are in their sources identical.

The facts just mentioned are somewhat subtle in their
nature, and the reader may find it difficult to recognize
their application to our present subject. We now pass
on to other facts, so apparent that they are generally
recognized. They are connected with the emphasis that
every man, in talking or reading, gives to his utterances.
By means of this, he causes his words to slide upward or
downward in pitch, or he keeps them at the same pitch.
This kind of emphasis, as pointed out in Chapters II. and
VIII. of " Poetry as a Representative Art," is so closely
analogous to the effects of musical melody that it is
generally considered to be the cause of them. See the
music on page 172. In the same chapters, as also in
Chapters III. and IV. of " Music as a representative Art,"
the particular phase of thought represented through each
of the different movements is also explained. This part
of the subject is not relevant to our present discussion.
But a consideration of the movements themselves is re-
levant. For however dull the inexperienced ear may be
in recognizing the elements of melody and harmony that
have already been pointed out, none can fail to perceive
in the emphatic elocutionary rising and falling of the voice,

1/2 RHYTHM AND HARMONY JN POETRY AND MUSIC.

that which resembles a melody, nor in the long inflection
on a single syllable, like an perhaps, beginning with a
vowel and ending with a consonant, that which suggests
at least the blending of tones in harmony.

The bearing of what has been said is that the arrange-
ment of words and of their accents so as to produce
certain definite kinds of versification and metre, while
doing this, gives to the verse at the same time certain
definite effects of melody and harmony. In Chapter
IX. of " Poetry as a Representative Art," attention was
directed to the fact that the pitch of the voice is usually
highest on its accented syllable. The first syllable of
cdnjure, for instance, is higher than the second. The
second of conjiire is higher than the first. Accordingly,

Lines ended with like effects of pitch in the melody both of the music

and verse.
Falling or feminine endings. Rising or masculine endings.

Hap - py
J*. ■ -m.

What a fav - ored lot

Zion.

QUALITY AND PITCH IN POETRY AND MUSIC. 1/3

unless there be some reason in the sense for changing this
rule, the voice, in reading verse consecutively, makes a
downward movement when the last syllable of a line is
unaccented, and an upward movement when it is accented.
Notice the music and words on page 172, which are taken
from page 106 of " Poetry as a Representative Art " :

A corresponding principle applies to the accents or lack
of accents at the beginnings of lines. Accordingly, a
different way of closing or opening a line, or the lengthen-
ing or shortening of it, necessitates a decided difference
in the tune of the verse ; and when we consider how
possible it is, even in the same poem, to change a metre
from double to triple and quadruple, and from initial to
terminal, median, and compound, as well as to alter the
relative number of feet in the lines, it is evident that the
opportunities for varying these tunes are practically in-
finite. Observe how dissimilar they are in the following:

Three years she grew in sun and shower
Then Nature said : " A lovelier flower

On earth was never known ;
This child I to myself will take ;
She shall be mine, and I will make

A lady o£ my own.
— The Education of Nature : Wordsworth.

Memory's finger,

Quick as thine.
Loving to linger

On the line.
Writes of another
Dearer than brother :

Would that the name were mine.

— Thread and Song : J. W. Palmer.

Ah, sad and strange as in dark summer dawns
The earliest pipe of half-awakened birds

174 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

To dying ears, when unto dying eyes

The casement slowly grows a glimmering square :

So sad, so strange, the days that are no more.

— Thi Princess : Tennyson.

Thy sidelong pillowed meekness ;

Thy thanks to all that aid ;
Thy heart in pain and weakness

Of fancied faults afraid ;
The little trembling hand

That wipes thy quiet tears, —
These, these are things that may demand

Dread memories for years.

— To a Child during Sickness : Leigh Hunt,

Come in the evening or come in the morning ;
Come when you 're looked for or come without warning ;
Kisses and welcome you '11 find here before you,
And the oftener you come here, the more I '11 adore you.
— The Welcome : Thomas Davis,

O whistle and I '11 come to you, my lad,
O whistle and I '11 come to you, my lad ;
Tho' father and mother and a' should gae mad,
O whistle and I '11 come to you, my lad.

— Whistle and I 'II Come to You : Burns.

Scots wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots wham Bruce has often led,
Welcome to your gory bed.
Or to glorious victory.

— Bannockburn : Idem.

"T is for this they are dying where the golden com is growing,
'T is for this they are dying where the crowded herds are lowing,
'T is for this they are djring where the streams of life are flowing.
And they perish of the plajgue where the breeze of health is blowing.

—Ireland: D. F. McCarthy.

Notice also this same fact as brought out by the illustra-
tions of different kinds of rhythm given on pages 6i to 89.

QUALITY AND PITCH IN POETRY AND MUSIC. I/S

Thus far, we have found that poetry and music are alike
in that both contain melody and harmony. But when
we attempt to go beyond this, and to inquire in what
ways melody and harmony are manifested in each, we
find great differences. This discovery is important, not
only on its own account, but, as we shall find in another
place, on account of the light that it throws on the corre-
spondences which we should expect to exist between har-
mony of sound and of color. That which connects the arts
is the unity of method underlying them. In each of them
this method is applied to a different germ. By keeping
this fact in mind we shall be able to recognize, as would
otherwise be impossible, in what sense the effects of har-
mony in all the arts are secured in ways essentially the
same.

The elements causing poetic harmony differ from those
causing musical harmony in this — that while any possible
tones can be used in verse, only certain selected tones can
be used in music, /. e., in the art of music as we now know
it. Science has ascertained that all tones whatever re-
sult from vibrations. Authorities differ, but, according to
Helmholtz, thirty-two of these vibrations in a- second are
necessary in order to render audible the lowest possible
musical tone, and 3960 to render audible the highest.
Between these two extremes it is conceivable that there
should be 3928 distinct degrees of pitch. Of these de-
grees music uses only about eighty-four, twelve degrees,
including whole and half notes, being employed in each
of about seven octaves. As for the speaking voice, its
range extends neither so low nor so high as that of
instrumental music ; nevertheless it can use a very much
larger number of notes. Suppose that we limit its range
to two octaves, and take for the lowest note the bass C

176 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

of the male voice,' representing 132 vibrations a second,
and for the highest note the C two octaves above this,
representing 528 vibrations a second. This leaves, be-
tween the two notes, 396 distinct degrees of pitch, and
the reading voice is at liberty to use all of these. But
the singing voice within the same range can use only
twenty-four of them.

What is the cause of this difference? Why, within
these limits, are the possibilities of pitch in poetry prac-
tically unrestricted, and in music restricted so greatly?
Undoubtedly it is connected with the fact that, in the
one, words are used, and in the other, at least in instru-
mental music, sounds without words. It would be pos-
sible, of course, in all cases to add music to verse, that is,
to chant all poetry, as well also as to add words to
melody, and to articulate all music. But this is not done,
evidently because artists think it unnecessary. Poetry is
felt to be one art and music another. In the first art
words are used ; and these, owing to their articulation,
are easily distinguished, and, if similar, easily compared.
Alliteration, assonance, rhyme, phonetic gradation in con-
nection with accent, metre, and versification, furnish as
many opportunities for grouping the like partial effects
produced by unlike complex wholes as this art needs.
But when, as in music, especially in that which is instru-
mental, the artist is compelled to use sounds that are not
distinguishable by articulation, he is obliged, if his effects
are to be above the level of the rhythm produced by the
taps of a drum, to make more of quality and pitch. In
poetry these latter, although, as we have found, necessarily
involved in articulation, are accidental and secondary.

' This is merely a supposititious case. Most voices, whether male or
female, have their lowest note on an E, F, G, or A, rather than on C.

QUALITY AND PITCH IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC. IJ-J

In music, they are essential and primary. It may be
said that, if it were not for them, there could be no music
at all, as we know it ; and this for the very sufficient
reason that, without them, like or allied elements could
not be grouped together in sufficient numbers to consti-
tute an art-form.

Of course, the early musicians could not have explained
exactly why they selected certain notes and put them
into a musical scale, and from these began to develop
that which has now come to be our elaborated system of
melody and harmony. Those artists followed merely the
instincts of their aesthetic nature. This prompted them,
in constructing forms, to select sounds that would natu-
rally go together; and to use these and these only.

But what connection is there, it maybe asked, between
sounds that naturally go together, and those that go to-
gether because certain of their effects are alike? None,
perhaps, so far as the first musicians were aware. They
judged merely by the results that they heard, and had
only a limited knowledge of the causes of these. Never-
theless, as will be shown presently from an examination
of the discoveries of modern science, their ears guided
them aright. All the notes of the scale, and all the
methods of musical harmony owe their origin to a hteral
fulfilment of the art-principle declared in " The Genesis
of Art-Form " to be of universal applicability. This prin-
ciple is that in order to convey an impression of unity,
the mind groups complex wholes by putting those together
that produce like partial effects.

CHAPTER XIII.

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY, AS DEVELOPED HIS-
TORICALLY ACCORDING TO THE METHODS
OF ART-COMPOSITION.

The Best Results of Quality, as Exemplified in the Human Voice and
Instruments, Produced by a Blending of Like Effects — In Pitch, the
Same is True — But to Understand the Subject Thoroughly, ■we should
Know the Causes of Quality and Pitch — The Note and Half-Note —
Written Music : the Staff — Treble Clef— Bass Clef — C Clef — Sharps
and Flats — Music among the Greeks — How Developed by Effects of
Comparison, First by Way of Congruity — The Gregorian Chant an En-
deavor to Imitate the Speaking Voice — Intonation is Based on Com-
parison by way of Repetition — Melody, Developed from this, is Based
on Comparison by way of Consonance : Pythagoras and the Origin of
Musical Scales — Variety, Introducing Contrast, Incongruity Alteration,
and Dissonance, Necessitates, for Unity of Effect, Complement, Balance,
Alternation, and Interchange — Octaves as Sung Together by the Greeks,
a Form of Parallelism — Polyphonic Music, as Developed from this, and
from Methods of Alternation, Complication, and Interchange — Harmo-
nic Music Developed by a Renewed Application of the Methods of
Order, Principality, etc. — Causes of the Rise of Harmonic Music.

1\/T USICAL tones may be divided according to their
quality into those produced by the human voice
and by manufactured instruments. The latter may be
either instruments of percussion like drums and cymbals,
stringed instruments like pianofortes and violins, or wind
instruments, which latter may either have flue-pipes, like
flutes and organs, as a rule, or reed pipes, like clarionets,
and oboes. There is no need of stopping here to describe

178

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY. 1/9

these different instruments. It is enough to say that
where consecutive single notes are used, we are best satis-
fied if all or a large number of those that are essential to
the same melody are produced by an instrument of the
same kind, thus fulfilling the principle of putting like
elements of sound together. For instance, even were it
possible, we should hardly take pleasure in hearing a first
note of a melody sounded on a violin, a second on a flute,
a third on a pianoforte, etc., and this because the effect
would lack congruity, which, as shown on page 3, is the
first condition enabling the mind to compare the qualities
of successive tones, and thus perceive unity in them. If,
however, instead of consecutive single notes, we hear
consecutive chords, then, provided the same part be
played in consecutive chords by the same instrument,
the more numerous the kinds of instruments used, the
more pleasure, as a rule, do we receive. A chorus, accom-
panied by an orchestra, is usually more enjoyable than a
single voice accompanied by a piano, and the latter is more
enjoyable than a voice unaccompanied by any instrument.
The reason is (see "Art in Theory," Chapter XIII., page
160) that in the chord of the orchestra the ear recognizes,
and is able to compare, a much larger number of like or
allied effects. Moreover, as all these instruments are
sounded in successive chords, their music continues to
preserve from note to note the same general compound
quality, notwithstanding the variety caused by differences
of pitch in the notes of each chord and of successive
chords. It is because the effect of unity, together with
that of the greatest possible variety, is attained in this
complex form of music as in no other, that the orchestra
and chorus combined is generally supposed to exemplify
the highest possibilities of the art. (See page 3.)

l8o RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

This fact, so apparent with reference to quality, is
equally apparent with reference to pitch. Of the hun-
dreds of possible degrees of it between the A of one clef
and, say, the A, two octaves above this, which is the ordi-
nary range of a soprano voice, and, therefore, usually the
range of the notes of a melody also, only twenty-four can
be used ; and of these, as a rule, only fifteen represent
the regular notes of the scale as actually used. Of the
fifteen, moreover, few melodies use all, the most of them
being confined to only four or five notes in addition to
those contained in a single octave. But if a melody be
confined to ten or a dozen notes, every one oTThese must
be repeated often ; in other words, the form of the melody
must reveal a very large number of like or allied factors.
An analogous statement, too, for analogous reasons, may
be made of the harmony accompanying such a melody.

These are facts which all recognize. But their bearing
upon the laws underlying the development of melody and
harmony cannot be understood, unless we begin at the
bottom of our subject, and explain, as far as possible,
what it is that causes the differences observable in the
quality, or, as usually called, the timbre of sounds, — what
it is, for instance, that makes the human voice sound
unlike a flute, and a flute unlike a violin or a pianoforte.
But such explanations in their turn would be unintel-
ligible to one who did not understand something about
musical pitch and notation as well as a little about the
history of music. Let us turn aside, then, for a while,
even at the risk of repeating what is well known to all but
the unmusical, in order to consider these.

As for pitch, we all know that, when one is singing, his
voice usually goes higher and lower than when he is talk-
ing. We know too that musical instruments are made to

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY. l8r

sound higher and lower than the speaking voice. Pitch,
therefore, is a, very important factor in music. Because
it is so, and in order to indicate clearly any changes that
may be made in it, there has come to be a canon in musi-
cal art that a note shall glide into another at a different
pitch not by imperceptible degrees, as is the case in speech,
but — aside from occasional violin-effects — perceptibly and
by degrees which all musicians have agreed in using. These
degrees are separated from one another by intervals, as
they are termed, of a whole note or a half note. Seven of
these degrees, all except two of which are separated by
intervals of whole notes, constitute what is known as the
musical scale (from the Latin scala, a ladder). Certain
definite degrees of pitch, which musicians represent by
the letters CDEFGABC, correspond exactly to the
notes of this scale. Between C and D, D and E, F and
G, G and A, and A and B, there are also half-notes that
are sometimes used, making twelve sounds in all between
C and C. The lowest of this series of sounds is the high-
est C in a scale below it, each note of which lower scale
is just an octave, as it is called, lower in pitch than the
note represented by the same letter in the higher scale.
In instrumental music, about four scales or octaves are
used below the middle C, the approximate pitch of
which is established by mutual agreement ; and about
three scales are used above it.

In writing music, a line was formerly used to represent
a certain pitch, and notes of a higher pitch were indicated
in spaces or on broken lines above this, and notes of a
lower pitch below it, e. g. :

l82 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

At present, five parallel lines, termed a staff, are used,
with broken lines, if necessary, above or below the staff.
Notice the staves on this page.

The figure | (^ indicates the treble-clef, as it is called ;

or the sol-clef, by which is meant that the line encircled by
the main curve of the figure represents the pitch of the
note sol in that scale the do of which is at middle C. It is
also called the G clef, because the line encircled represents
the pitch of the lower G used by a soprano voice in sing-
ing. Calculating from this G, it is easy to determine the
pitch represented by the other lines and spaces, e. g. :

„_F_G^A;

„ TT F -G- -^ —

The figure & indicates the bass clef, as it is

called, or the fa-clef, because the main curve of the
figure is made about the line representing the note fa
in that scale the do of which is at the lowest C ordinarily
used by the male voice. It is also called the F clef because
this curve is made about the line representing the middle
F used by the bass voice. The notes above and below
this are then as follows :

■^-^■D-^::

The G clef and the F clef together enable us to write

out all ordinary music, e, g. :

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY.

183

Besides these, a do-z\&l or C clef is sometimes placed
on either the first, third, or fourth line of the staff;
and indicates that the note C is on the hne which it
incloses. When on the first line the clef is also called
the soprano ; when on the third line, the alto ; and when
on the fourth line, the tenor.

First,

^

Third, ^^

Fourth
line.

ff

To this it may be well to add that, whenever it is de-
sired to use the half tones between C and D, D and E,
and so on, one of two different courses is adopted. Either
a sharp, represented thus (, is placed on a line or space,
indicating that the note to which it is attached is to be
sounded half a tone above where it is written ; or a flat,
represented thus 1,, is placed on a line or space, indicating
that the note is to be sounded half a tone below where it
is written. In printed music, the two following arrange-
ments represent the same notes, the one moving up the
scale, the other down.

l84 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

These sharps or flats, when used uniformly throughout a
composition, are placed at the beginning of the staff and
not before each note, as in the example just given ; e. g. r

^= ^^ ^^ ^^ ^^ ^

S^^

When a sharp or flat has been used on a line or space^
and a following note is not intended to be made sharp-
er flat, a character termed a natural ^ is used to indicate
this fact ; e.g.:

I

'ff Pr

This brief explanation of musical notation will prepare
us to go back as far as is possible, to the beginnings of
music, and notice certain different stages in its history
which will enable us to understand why it has developed
as it has. The G reeks chanted or sang the ir pnptry^ The
accents (from ad and cano, to sing to) used with their
words indicated, as do elocutionary marks with us, the
movements of their voices in doing this. "We must re-
member," says A. J. Ellis, in one of the notes to his.
translation of Helmholtz's work on " The Sensations of
Tone," page 366, " that the Greek and Latin so-called
accents consisted solely in alternations of pitch, and hence
to a certain extent determined a melody. See Dionysus
of Halicarnassus TrepJ ffvvOeffeoas oi'OyUarftji', Chapter XI."
But if the written accents in Greek and the accents as de-
termined by the rules of grammarians in Latin are care-
fully examined, it will be found that every line in a Greek

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY. 1 85

or Latin poem had its own distinct melody, the art of the
poet being shown by the great variations in pitch which
he was able to combine with a certain quantity or rhythm.
" It would not be difficult," Helmholtz goes on to say,
" for any one with a little musical skill and the help of a
common Greek lyre, to extemporize (i.e. in reciting an
ordinary Greek stanza written with accents) an effective
recitative, especially if the rising and falling intervals were
varied." Undoubtedly in the early forms of music, inas-
much as the voice was required to harmonize with only
certain simple and single notes sounded on the lyre, each
singer could lengthen and shorten his inflections at will,
and thus vary his melodies in ways not allowable in
modern music.

Here we find indicated, as nearly as can be, the condi-
tions of things when music as an art began. Notice how
they accord with what was unfolded in " The Genesis of
Art-Form." There it was shown that the mental desire of
the mind for unity first manifests itself in the direction of
comparison, resulting in an endeavor, so far as possible, to
put like effects with like. It was also shown that com-
parison first manifests itself byway of congruity,x&sM\W'a^
from grouping forms together because representative of
like significance. Would it not be strictly in accordance
with this fact that the beginnings of artistic unity in these
early Greek melodies would be determined by the fitness
of certain like tones in them to express certain like senti-
ments, such as those of joy or sadness, triumph or de-
spondency? But were they, as a fact, determined thus?
It certainly seems that they were, because they grew out
of the requirements of recitation, and these would neces-
sarily cause the movements of the tones to resemble the
intonations natural to the voice in speaking the words

l86 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

used. And what is true of the Greek melodies is true, so
far as can be ascertained, of all primitive and original
forms of melody. The_Grgg orian cha nts^^ontain rules
like the following :

sic can - ta com - ma, sic du - o punc - ta: sic ve - to punc-tum.
Thus sing the com - nia> and thus the co - Ion: and thus the full stop.

Sic

Slg

nura

in -

ter -

ro

ga •

ti

o

nis?

Thus

sing

the

mark

of

m -

- ter

ro

ga

tiou

Whether Pope Gregory (a.d. 590 to 604), originated
these methods, or derived them from Pope Sylvester
(a.D. 314 to 335), as is sometimes said, or from St. Am-
brose (a.d. 341 to 395), or whether all of these derived
them from the ancient Romans or Greeks, — in any case,
that desire to imitate the natural intonations of the speak-
ing voice, to which they owe their origin, is very apparent.
A similar desire has evidently actuated composers
wherever there has been a fresh development of the pos-
sibilities of melody, as is exemplified not only in the reci-
tativos of Giacomo Peri of the sixteenth century, but in
the operas of Wagner of our own time.

While this is the case, however, melody, when once
originated or started in a new direction, soon gets beyond
imitating the intonations of speech. Variations of pitch,
when made to differ at all from those used in talking,
soon come to differ from them, if not entirely, at least
greatly, and this for the sake of the tune. Now what is
the earliest form of tune ? As stated in " Art in Theory "
Chapter XX., the fundamental difference between song and
speech is the same as between sustained tones and unsus-
tained. The^earliest form of tune is that of the recitative.

/^h^jy^ MUSICAL MELbnYjAND HARMONY. 1 87

in which the voice begins to chant the words and pro-
long them, as in what we term intonation. What is
the chief characteristic of intonation ? Look back at
the Gregorian chant. Listen to the service in ritualistic
churches. Its chief characteristic is repetition. The same
artistic tendency that leads the voice to dwell on the
tone, leads it to dwell on like tones. Comparison by way
of congruity passes thus, as we should expect, first of all
into comparison by way of repetition. See page 3.

After a time, however, but much later, intonation is
developed into the completed artistic form of melody.
The basis of this is comparison by way of consonance, in-
cluding, however, much both of congruity and repetition.
Quite_eaxly in the history of Greek music we find Pythag-
oras (B.C. 540 to 510) asking the reason of the laws of
musical consonance, showing that, even in his time, interest
was taken in tliej;elatiojis_qf j?it^h jrrespective of congru-
ity or the sentiment represented by them, or of the repe-
titions of intonation. Pythagoras had learned, as well
probably from the Egyptians as from his own experi-
ments, that strings of different lengths but of the same
substance, when subjected to the same strain, would give
perfect consonances if their respective lengths were in
the ratio of i : 2, 2 : 3, or 3 : 4. Later physicists have ex-
tended this law to apply to the ratios 4 : 5 and 5 : 6, but,
with what he knew, Pythagoras constructed a musical
scale containing four of the notes used in our scale of to-
day. Subsequently (see page 203), he extended his scale
until it contained seven notes differing somewhat, yet not
greatly, from the seven represented by our own C D E F
G A B C. To the notes of the scale, Guido of Arezzo, a
Benedictine monk of the eleventh century, gave the
names ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, and ut, taking the first six

1 88 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

of the names from the initial syllables of six successive
lines of a hymn to St. John, which lines happened to be-
gin on the six successive notes of the scale, now named
after them. These are the lines :

Ut queant laxis
Re-sonare fibris
Mi-ra gestorum
Fa-muli tuorum
Sol-ve polluti
La-bii reatum, etc.

To these syllables Guido added si, and subsequently ut
was changed to do. This was the origin of the solfeggio,
as it was called, and which still exists in our do, re, mi, fa,
sol, la, si, do.

So much for the names used in the scale. But we have
not yet explained why its notes are pitched as they are.
To do this, necessitates our tracing further the influence
in this art of the methods underlying composition. The
chart on page 3 will show that, as affected by the variety
in nature, comparison, congruity, repetition, and consonance
are, respectively, opposed by contrast, incongruity, altera-
tion, and dissonance. Undoubtedly, to avoid these latter
effects is the unconscious reason underlying the very great
likeness of tone that characterizes intonation. For what
is intonation, as mainly employed in our own day, but an
expression of formalism carried to its extreme? What is
it but the result of a desire to secure almost absolute
unity of impression in the church services? But when
there is a departure from absolute unity by the admission
into the form of contrast and methods allied to it, there is,
as we have found, no longer in any of the arts any possibil-
ity of unity of effect, aside from the use of the methods
in the third column in the list on page 3, namely, counter-

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY. 189

action, complement, balance, parallelism, alternation, and
interchange, which last in connection with consonance,
develops into completed harmony.

The beginnings of the latter condition among the Greeks
are indicated as follows. Aristotle asks (Problems xix., I
18) : " Why is the consonance of only the octave sung ? "
and again (Prob. xix., 39): "This singing occurs when
young boys and men sing together, and their tones differ
as the highest from the lowest of the scale." Owing
to passages like these, scholars have held that the Greek
music was what is generally termedJonmoghonic ; or, in
other words, that it had no harmonics in the bipad.sens.e
in which the word is now used — only such^ojisaaances_as-
cari be' produced^lay the use^of the octave. Their men (
could sing at the sarne time as their boys and women, but
all had to sing the same part, though separated by an oc-
tave — furnishing thus, as will be recognized, a perfect
exemplification of mxislcaX parallelism, — and their accom-
panying instruments, also, whether higher or lower than,
the singing voices, had to sound the same part. It isj
difficult, however, to reconcile this conception of the com-
pleted results of Greek music with the formation of their
instruments. Certainly the strings of their lyres would
sometimes be sounded together, if only by accident. This
would produce a chord, and it is wellnigh impossible to
imagine that those who had once heard a chord accident-
ally, should not after that have repeated it intentionally.

Music much like what has been described, however, in
which there was, at most, only a slight development of/
harmony, continued untn_the_imddle__ages^ when the fifth'
and fourth notes below the main note of the melody came
to be used just as the octave had been used previously. In
the eleventh century, musicians in France and Flanders be-

190 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

!gan to try experiments in what has since been ternmed
p olyp honic music. This was produced by causing two o r
more separate melodiesJx>.be-&uii^or^played_at_ih£.same
time. It is not necessary to argue that this form of music
was developed in fulfilment of the methods arranged on
page 3, in the column in which are complement, balance,
parallelism., complication, and interchange. Orlando Lasso, \
the last and chief composer in this form, is said to have /
combined thus as many as five melodies. -1

Such music, however, gradually and almost necessarily,
led to the harmonic music £i£_the_present. In this there
is usually one melody with which all the other notes of the
composition are made to chord — in other words, in this
form of music, the methods on page 3 in the same column
as order and principality, assert themselves to overcome
the polyphonic tendencies toward confusion and keep
them in artistic subordination. Could any historic facts
confirm more satisfactorily the theories of this book with
reference to the general methods in accordance with which
musical art develops ?

One main irnpptjjstiTtlipHpvfdQpmpnt ofjiarmonY^as
the Protestan t Reformation ^ and thsTdemand that arose,
in consequence of it, for a form of CTioral that could be
sung by congregations in unison with an organ accom-
paniment. Another was the great "aMise of polyphonic
music that after a time crept into the Catholic services, in
that the words of church music, because they could never
be understood as sung in the different melodies c^obined,
came often to be those of popular songs. A thWa reason
was the desire aroused everywhere about that period to
imitate any method supposed to be Hellenic. The first
great master of the new method was Palestrina, a pupil of
the Huguenot Claude Goudimel, who was slain in the

MUSICAL MELODY AND HARMONY.

191

massacre of St. Bartholomew. Palestrina's harmonies, how-
ever, are very elementary, passing from one key to another
with little or no attempt to carry out any of those princi-
ples with reference to sequence in sound, which must be
followed in order to render a composition satisfactory to a
modern ear. Here is the opening of his " Stabat
Mater " :

From such crude beginnings, however, all the elaborate
system of modern harmony has been developed.

CHAPTER XIV.

MUSICAL SCALES AS DEVELOPED BY THE ART-METHOD

OF GROUPING LIKE PARTIAL EFFECTS OF

UNLIKE COMPLEX WHOLES.

As Harmony is Developed from Melody, to Understand Music, we must
First Learn why Certain Notes are Fitted to Follow One Another — ■
Scales Constructed from the Sense of Hearing, and All Scales Similar,
Therefore the Same Law Underlies them — Sounds Differ in Quality —
Musical Sounds Result from Regularly Periodic Vibrations — Differ-
ences in Loudness from the Different Amplitude of Vibrations, and in
Pitch, from the Different Time of Vibrations — Differences in Quality
from the Different Combinations of Vibrations — Vibrations Com-
pounded, and Each of the Compounds Introduces into the Tone a Pitch
or Partial Tone of its Own — Law of Sequence of the Upper Partial
Tones of Musical Notes — Example in Music — Correspondence of the
Earliest Greek Scale with the Chief Partial Tones of its Keynote —
And of our Own Major Scale — A Possible Scale of Ten Notes — Our
Minor Scale — These Scales All Constructed on the Principle of Group-
ing Like Partial Effects of Unlike Complex Wholes — The Method in
which the Greeks, Ignorant of Partial Tones, were Guided to these Re-
sults by their Sense of Hearing — How they Constructed, by Measuring
the Length of Strings, the Lyre of Orpheus — Similar Results Reached
by the Modems through Counting Vibrations, and the Resulting
Ratios — The Ratios of the Chinese Scale of Six Notes as Developed
by the Ancients — The Ratios of the Greek Scale of Seven Notes —
Other Greek Scales — Deficiencies of the Greek Scale and the Develop-
ment of the Modem Scales — Comparison ietween the Ratios of these
and of the Pythagorean Scale — The Keys of the Piano and the Scales
Played from the Different Keynotes — The Temperate Scale of the
Present, and its Ratios as Compared with the Pythagorean, the Major,
and the Minor.

pERHAPS the most significant facts for us to observe
in the history of music, as briefly sketched in the last
chapter, are, first, that harmony was developed from
melody, not melody from harmony ; and, second, that
harmony was developed for the purpose of giving greater

IQ2

MUSICAL SCALES. I93

prominence and intelligibility to the words used in con-
nection with the music. The first of these facts is the
one that has the most bearing upon our present consid-
eration of the subject. We learn from it that when the
Greeks found that consonances are made by strings, the
lengths of which are in the ratios of one to two, two to
three, and three to four ; and when they formed that mus-
ical scale which is still to a great extent our own ; they did
so to meet the requirements of melody, of notes following
one another, not of notes sounded simultaneously in
chords. Accordingly, if we wish to discover the reason
why they formed the scale as they did, we must discover
why the notes of that scale are fitted to follow one
another.

Of course the Greeks, in constructing their scale, were
guided by the sense of hearing, just as modern musicians
have been guided by it in constructing their systems of
harmony. But why did the sense of hearing guide the
Greeks in the particular way in which it did, and why,
as will be shown to be the case, do the Chinese and other
people, whose music has developed independently, as
well as we ourselves to-day, use what is essentially a "''
similar scale ? What is the acoustic law that necessi-
tates sequences of sounds of the kind found in this scale?
It is only in very recent times, owing mainly to the
researches of the great German physicist Helmholtz, that
it has been possible to give any satisfactory answer to
such a question. It seems now, however, as if it could
be done. Let us, at least, make an attempt to do so.

All must have noticed that the sounds of instruments,
of flutes, violins, and pianofortes, as well as those of the
human yoice, differ in what, for the present, in a vague
way, we may term quality. One reason for this difference

194 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

undoubtedly is the fact that, in connection with the
sound of the flute, we hear the escaping of the breath ;
with that of the violin, the scrapings of the bow; with
that of the piano, the strokes of the hammers. Yet if we
stand so far away from these instruments that the noises
made by the breath, bow, and hammers are inaudible, we
are still able to distinguish the tone not only of each
different kind of instrument, but sometimes of each dif-
erent instrument of the same kind. It is certainly so in
the case of human voices. Now what is it that causes
this difference in quality ?

To answer this question we must understand first what
a musical sound is, what is the difference between it and
a noise. " A noise," says Helmholtz (" The Sensations
of Tone," page 12) "is accompanied by a rapid alterna-
tion of different kinds of sensations of sound. Think, for
example, of the rattling of a carriage over granite paving-
stones, the splashing or seething of a waterfall, or of the
waves of the sea, or the rustling of leaves in a wood. In
all of these cases we have rapid irregular, but distinctly
perceptible alternations of various kinds of sound, which
crop up fitfully. When the wind howls, the alternation
is slow, the sound slowly and gradually rises, and then
falls again. . . . On the other hand, a musical tone
strikes the ear as a perfectly undisturbed uniform sound
which remains unaltered as long as it exists, and it pre-
sents no alterations of various kinds of constituents. To
this, then, corresponds a simple regular kind of sensation,
whereas in a noise many various sensations of musical
tone are irregularly mixed up and, as it were, tumbled
about in confusion. . . . The normal and usual means
of excitement for the human ear is atmospheric vibration.
The irregularly alternating sensations of the ear in the

MUSICAL SCALES. 1 95

case of music leads us to conclude that for these the
vibrations of the air must also change irregularly. For
musical tones, on the other hand, we anticipate a regular
motion of the air, continuing uniformly and in its turn
excited by an equally regular motion of the sonorous
body whose impulses were conducted to the ear by the
air. Those regular motions which produce musical sound
have been exactly investigated by physicists. They are
oscillations, vibrations, or swings, that is up-and-down or
to-and-fro motions of sonorous bodies, and it is necessary
that these oscillations should be regularly periodic. By a
periodic motion we mean one which constantly returns
to the same condition after exactly equal intervals of
time. . . . The kind of motion of the moving
body during one period is perfectly indifferent
but . . . the sensation of a musical tone is due to
a rapid periodic motion of the sonorous body, the sensa-
tion of a noise to non-periodic motions."

That musical sounds are caused, or, at least, accom-
panied, by vibrations has been known for centuries.
These vibrations may be recognized by the eye in large
strings, and by the touch in large reeds and pipes ; and
the experiments of physicists have placed the fact as ap-
plied to all sounds beyond a doubt. It has long been
known, too, that differences in the degrees of force in
sounds, i. e., in loudness and softness, are due to the size,
or amplitude of these vibrations ; a cord struck with more
force than another producing a louder sound because it
vibrates, and causes the air to vibrate, farther from side to
side. It has long been known also that differences in
pitch are caused by differences in the time in which peri-
odic vibrations are made. This has been unmistakably
proved, among other ways, by the use of Cagnard de la

196 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

Tour's siren. In this, air is forced from a cylinder
through holes occurring at regular intervals in a revolving
disc, connected with which there is a clock-like arrange-
ment registering the number of interruptions made in the
current of air. When the disc is revolving rapidly a con-
tinuous musical sound is produced. In such cases, the
number of interruptions represents, of course, the number
of separate vibrations composing the sound at the pitch
that is heard. To apply this principle to the effects of a
cord ; its whole length sounds a note, as ascertained by
Pythagoras, just an octave below its half length, because,
in the former case, it vibrates exactly twice as slowly as
in the latter.

After physicists had proved that degrees of loudness in
sound are determined by the amplitude of vibrations, and
degrees of pitch by the time of vibrations, they felt that
nothing was left to determine the quality of sounds ex-
cept the form of vibrations. It was easy, too, for them
to imagine that these should differ in form. For instance,
when a bow is drawn across the strings of a violin, it may
fall upon them, giving them an up-and-down motion ; it
may move over them, giving them a motion from side to
side ; it may turn them, giving them a twisting motion ;
it may bound over them, giving them a jarring motion ;
or it may do all these together ; besides which, wherever
it touches the strings it may check the movements caused
by vibrations of their entire length, and cause smaller
waves between the points where they are played upon by
the bow and where they are attached to the violin. Ac-
cording to a similar mode of reasoning, it was natural to
suppose that the waves of sound produced by a wind in-
strument, like a trumpet, or human throat, for instance,
deviated as they are from a straight course by a number

MUSICAL SCALES.

197

of curves and angles, must necessarily be more or less com-
pound as they emerge from the instruments ; and, being
so, must differ in form for different kinds of instruments.
Considerations of this sort caused investigations to be
made into the nature of vibrations ; and by means of very
ingenio'us expedients, — by magnifying, for example, the
vibrations of a cord or pipe, and making them visible,
through using an intense ray of light to throw an image
of them upon a canvas in a darkened room, — the forms
assumed by the vibrations caused by many of the ordi-
nary musical instruments have been accurately ascer-
tained. These forms have been resolved, according to
well-known mathematical principles, into their constituent
elements. For instance, if the form of vibration be as in
the first of these examples, it may be resolved into the
forms that are in the second.

^

v-^

/

Mr

In short, investigations of this character have shown
that musical sounds may result, and usually do result, not
from simple, but from compound forms of vibrations ; that
is to say, in connection with the main waves there are
other waves. All of these are not invariably present, but
when present they are related to the main one — i. e., in
tones that make music as distinguished from noise — as
2:1, 3:1, 4:1, 5:1,6:1, 7:1,8:1,9:1, and even in
some cases as 10 : i. In other words, these smaller

198 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

accompanying waves vibrate twice, thrice, and four times,
and so on up to ten times, while the main wave is vibrat-
ing once. But this is not all. The sounds of these com-
pound vibrations have been analyzed. By means of
instruments like Helmholtz's resonators, which are small
glass tubes so constructed as to collect to the ear tones
of a single pitch, it has been found that each form of
vibration represented in a note produces a separate pitch
of its own. When, therefore, a tone is sounded on a
violin, we hear in it not only the pitch caused by the
vibrations of the whole length of the string, but also in
connection with it a number of other partial tones, as all
the constituents of any one note are called, each of which
has its own pitch, produced by vibrations of one half,
one third, one fourth, etc., of the length of the string.

The difference in the number, the combination, and the
relative loudness of these partial tones in a musical sound
is what determines its quality or timbre. In instruments
like kettle-drums, cymbals, or bells, one side is almost
invariably thicker than the other. For this reason, the
main vibrations are not uniforn, and, of course, the partial
tones cannot be so. Such instruments, accordingly, are
less musical than noisy, and are used on only exceptional
occasions. But in ordinary musical sounds the partial
tones, if present at all — they differ as produced by differ-
ent instruments — are indicated in the notation below.
Notice that the first partial tone is the same as the prime
tone ; also that the second, fourth, and eighth partials are
the same as the prime tone with exception of being in
higher octaves.

The notes that are used ( ^ T f C ^ ), in the degree in
which they are long, indicate tones which the reader needs
most to notice ; and the marks after the letters indicate

MUSICAL SCALES.

199

the relative distance of a tone from the octave of the
tone which is the standard of pitch. C, F', or G', for
instance, are one octave below C, F, or G, and these are
one octave below c, f, or g, and two octaves below c',
f, or g'.

Partial tones
of the pitch
of C

Of F, of which C is
the third and near-
est partial

Of G, which itself is
the third and nearest
partial of C

I F'""^

Of Afe, of which C
is the fifth partial.

Of E, which itself is the
fifth partial of C.

Now, glancing at the above, suppose that we were to
sound the note C, and then to sound after it notes whose
partial tones connected them most closely with C. What
should we do ? We should sound F, — should we not ? —
of which C is the third partial, and G, which itself is the
third partial of C ? This, inasmuch as every C, F, or G
of whatever octave has virtually the same sound, would
give us the following :

-^^

-^^^H^

200 RH YTHM AND HARMON V IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

But these are the very tones accredited to the " lyre of
Orpheus," which represented the earHest of the Greek
scales.

Now let us add to these notes those whose partial tones
are the next nearly connected with C, F, or G. They are
D the third partial of G, E the fifth partial of C, A the
fifth of F, and B the fifth of G. This gives us

C— D— E— F— G— A— B— C,

which is our own major scale, the main one that we use
to-day ; and is similar to that used by the Greeks after
theirs had been expanded to seven notes.

If now we include in the scale the lower partial tones
of Ab, of which C is the fifth partial, and of E, which is the
fifth partial of C, and add Bb, which is the seventh partial of
C, as well as the ninth of Ab, we get the following result :
C-D-Eb (the same in pitch as Dj )-E-F-G-Alj (the same
in pitch as Gt )-A-Bij-B-C.

There might be a scale of this length, as there is no
reason in nature why its notes should be confined to
seven. But as Eb, Ab, and Bb are very near to E, A, and
B, the latter are omitted wherever the former are used.
By substituting these flattened notes for the natural ones,
we get our minor scale in its two forms ; first the
ascending,

C D Eb F G A B C,

and second, the descending,

C Bb Ab G F Eb D C.

All these scales are derived, as will be perceived, accord-
ing to the simple artistic principle of putting togetJier like
partial effects of unlike complex tone-wholes, precisely as
alliteration, assonance, or rhyme, as used in poetry is a

MUSICAL SCALES. 20I

result of putting together like partial letter-effects of
unlike complex syllable-wholes. When we hear C sounded,
we hear with it G as its third partial, and therefore, recog-
nizing in G something that is like what we have heard
before, we are prepared to pass from the C to that note.
In the same way we can pass from C to F, for in the F as
its third partial, we continue to hear the C ; and so on
through the scale.

Of course these facts with reference to the partial tones
were not known by the Greeks to whom we must trace
the origin of our scale ; but their ignorance renders it all
the more significant that their ears should have been
guided to results for which modern science alone is able
to give a satisfactory reason. The facts with reference to
the subject which they had ascertained are supposed to
be as follows. They had found that the voice in recitation
was in the habit of rising, to give the interrogative inde-
cisive inflection, to the fifth note above the main pitch, and
of falling, to give the affirmative decisive inflection, to
the fifth note below this pitch. (See Helmholtz's " Sensa-
tions of Tone," pages 368 to 370.) This led them with C
to use G, the fifth above it, and F, the fifth below it.

In connection with these facts they had learned that a
string of a given length, represented by the unit i, would
produce a sound, say C, forming a perfect consonance with
sounds produced by the same kind of a string shortened
either to one half of its length, as when sounding, above
the first C, the C represented by |- ; or to two thirds of its
length, as when sounding, above the first C, the G repre-
sented by f ; or to three fourths of its length, as when
sounding, above the first C, the F represented by f . In
other words they had learned that sounds produced by
strings related to one another as i to 2, 2 to 3, or 3 to 4,

202 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

would form consonances. Accordingly, for this reason, as
well as for the purpose of having an instrument conformed
to the requirements of recitation, they seem to have in-
vented or adopted the " lyre of Orpheus," containing these

strings

C F G C

T 8 S 1

I T 7 3

Modern musicians, however, do not determine the nu-
merical ratios of sounds of different pitch by the relative
lengths of strings, but of the vibrations caused by such
strings. This is an improvement ; because, if strings be
not exactly alike, consonances will not be produced by
shortening their lengths by \, \, \, etc. Besides this, many
sounds are not produced by strings at all. That which
really determines pitch is the time of the vibrations,
however caused. Accordingly to-day, if C be represented
by I, the octave above is represented by 2, because it is
produced by two vibrations made in the same time as the
lower one. While this lower one is made, the sound pro-
ducing G makes i^ vibrations, and the sound producing
F makes i^ vibrations.

In other words
by

C

I

F

G and c are now represented
1 "2 which, it will be no-

ticed, express)
the same as )

I

f

f " i obtained by a different

method of computing the numerical ratio.

Instead of going on to develop their scale in accordance
with the idea^ suggested by these simple ratios, the older
musicians seem to have been governed by what they con-
sidered to be the requirements of recitation. They en-
larged their scale by continuing to introduce into it fifths
others than those represented in G arid F, the reasons for
first using which were given on page 20I. The fifth above

MUSICAL SCALES. ' 203

G, which, considering C to be i, is represented by (f), is
D, which, considering G to be (f), is represented by |
of f = f . This, if lowered an octave, gives the musical
ratio |. The fifth below F (f) is B^ (f ) ; | of 4 = ^, giving
us the musical ratio ^. Adding these to our former scale
we get

C D F G Bli C

T 9 4 S IS o

This is the Chinese scale, also the ancient Scotch scale,
in which numbers of the popular songs of Scotland and
Ireland were composed.

The Greeks did not use the note Bb. Terpander intro-
duced A, the fifth of D, and E, the fifth of A. Finally,
Pythagoras added B as the fifth of E, thus making a scale
of seven notes, which number continues to this day. The
ratios of the notes used by him when brought into the
same octave are

CDEFGABC

T 9 81 4 S 27 243 »

Besides this, the Greeks had other scales formed by the
simple process of beginning them with other notes, thus

E

F

G

A

B

C

D

E

A

B

C

D

E

F

G

A

The notes themselves, however, represented the same
sounds as those of the scale beginning with C. Not
many of these scales are known to have been used, and
these very likely were not used extensively.

The Greek scale was defective, in that its members,
with the exception of F and G were not derived from
their connection with C, the fundamental note ; and for

204 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POE TR Y AND MUSIC.

this reason, it could scarcely have met the requirements of
modern harmony. In fact, it was felt to be unsatisfac-
tory by the Greeks themselves. They tried to correct its
deficiencies; but not until the sixteenth century were any
important changes made in it. Then, in order to pro-
vide for the necessities of harmony, the existing scales
began gradually to be transformed into our two modern
ones, the major and the minor. In these, the object in
view has been to make the ratios of the notes to the
fundamental note and to each other as simple as possible.
For this purpose the following figures were first chosen :

ij 4 If li

S 4 6 6

5 T T T

2

G F A E C

To these were added D, the fifth of G, shown on page
203, to be properly represented by \ ; and B, the third
(I) of G (f)., /. ^. |- of I properly represented byJg^.. Ac-
cording to these methods of calculating the ratios,
methods which it is not necessary to describe further, the
following results have been obtained :

CDEFGA B C

For the major scale i I t 3 I s "¥" ^

For its intervals f 'Ji 15 I V" I xf

For the Pythagorean scale i s fi I I fj fit 2

For its intervals \ I Ml I f f ' Ml

For the first form of the

minor scale ' f I I f I "" ^

For its intervals I II ^^ I "V"- f H

For the second form of

the minor scale ' I I I f f I 2

For its intervals \ \% Y | |« | ^-

The keys used on the piano and the organ are as follows :

MUSICAL SCALES. 20$

^234 567 8 9 10 II 12 13

•white black white black white white black white black white black white white

C I Ctf I „ I D« I I I Fit I „ I GJf I . I AJ I „ I „

It is possible to begin the scale, i. e., to sound the do of
the do re mi fa sol la si do on any one of these keys,
which in that case is termed the keynote, and, by using
half intervals at the right places — in other words between
the 3d and 4th and between the 7th and 8th notes — to
produce a scale containing approximately the same order
of sounds. Instead of a scale we may start a melody on
any one of these different keys ; and the ear will recognize
that, though its general pitch is higher or lower, neverthe-
less its notes continue to sustain, each to each, relations
that keep the melody very nearly the same. But they do not
keep it exactly the same. Observe the numbers for inter-

vals m the key of C : c | D Y E H r f G J^ A f B Jf c
and in the key of G : G i/ A f B ^ C f D -V E f F ^ G
Besides this it must be evident that if all sharps are at
equal distances above their naturals and all flats at equal
distances below them, there must be something out of the
way either about the note |d*| representing half of the
interval |- between C and D ; or else about the note |e*|
representing half of the interval ^ between D and E.
Such facts prove that, in order to represent each scale
with absolute accuracy, there should be separate notes or
keys for all possible sharps and flats, as well as for the
notes that are termed natural. As such arrangements
would render a musical instrument exceedingly compli-
cated, and the execution of music on it correspondingly
difficult, what is called the temperate scale came into use
during the last century, mainly through the efforts of
Sebastian Bach. This scale represents ratios approximat-

206 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

ing those of the mathematical, but not the same ; and its
value consists in the large use that it enables us to make
of pianos and organs, in which the same key can always
be struck for the sharp of one note and for the flat of the
note above it. The difference between the temperate and
the mathematical scales may be illustrated thus : If we
suppose the fundamental note C to make 240 vibrations
in a second of time, the different notes of the following
scales will make these vibrations :

320 360 400 450 48a
320 360 384 432 480

302| 32of 359I 403f 453 480
303I 320 360 405 45 5f 480

Accordingly, we see that the scale used to-day is not by
any means as different as might be expected from that of
Pythagoras.

The mathematical

major scale

240

270

300

The mathematical

minor

240

270

288

The temperate

240

269I

302]

The Pythagorean

240

270

303^

CHAPTER XV.

MUSICAL HARMONY AS DEVELOPED BY THE ART-METHOI)

OF GROUPING LIKE PARTIAL EFFECTS OF UNLIKE

COMPLEX WHOLES.

Historical Developments from Counteraction, etc. , as Involved in Polyphonic
Music — Connection between the Concords and the Lowest or Chief Par-
tial Tones of a Compound Note — Harmony Emphasizes the Fact that
Like Partial Effects are Put with Like — Visible Proof of this — All the
Notes of a Scale Harmonized by Using Chords Based on the Tonic,
Dominant, and Subdominant — Different Possible Arrangements of the
Same Chord — The Cadence and the Dissonance of the Seventh — The
Principal Key — Application of Subordination, Balance, Central-Point,
ParalleUsm, Symmetry, Alternation, Massing, Complication, Conti-
nuity, etc. — And Other of the Methods of Art-Composition — Interchange
as an Element of Modulation — And Gradation, Abruptness, Transition,
and Progress — Interchange and Gradation in Sounding the Same Note
in Successive Chords — In Passing from One Key to Another, by Mak-
ing the Tonic or Subdominant of One Key the Dominant of Another
— By Passing from Major to Minor, or Vice Versa — Further Exempli-
fied and Explained — Relations of Different Chords to One Another —
Abruptness in Transitions — The Chords Considered Separately — The
Major Triad — The Chord of the Seventh — The Minor Triad — The
Ratios of the Notes of these Chords when in the Same Octaves — Sum-
mary of the Ratios of Notes Causing Musical Concords.

T^rE come now to harmony proper. This was devel-
oped, as we have noticed, from melody ; but not
until the world had been accustomed to melody for
many centuries. Historically, the laws of harmony vi^ere
discovered as a result of experiments made in composing
polyphonic music ; in other words, as a result of that

207

208 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

making of order out of confusion which, on page 3, is
shown to be counteraction. In trying to put together
two, three, or four melodies men found that certain notes
when combined sounded agreeably and others disagree-
ably. Of course they soon learned to use the former
combinations, and to avoid the latter. For many years,
as exemplified in the opening strain of Palestrina's
" Stabat Mater" (see page 191) there were no acknowl-
edged laws of harmony. Now, however, it is different.
As a rule, for instance, the notes of the ordinary major
scale are harmonized thus :

CGCFCFGC

Let us take these concords now and compare them
with the scheme of the upper partial tones of C, F, and G,
from which, as we found on pages 199 and 200, the major
scale of C is derived. We at once notice that C, F, and G
are the three bass notes used in harmonizing this scale ;
also that the nearest and most universally present partial
tones of C, F, and G are those used in the successive
chords. Let us try to arrange the scheme of the partial
tones and the chords harmonizing the different notes of
the scale so as to show this fact in the clearest way.

PARTIAL TONES.

MUSICAL HARMONY.

209

HARMONIC CHORDS.
3 4. S 6

In the first of the above chords, G is an octave below
-where it belongs as the third partial, and E is two octaves
below where it belongs as the fifth ; in the second, third,
■and fourth chords E is one octave below where it be-
longs as the fifth partial. In the seventh chord B is one
octave below where it belongs as the fifth partial; and in
the eighth chord F is one octave below where it belongs
as the seventh partial.

A comparison of the notes on these two staves will
show that harmony does little more than to repeat in
such a way as to reinforce, the partial tones already in
the sounds that it accompanies. In other words, it em-
phasizes the fact that in the successive notes of the scale
like or allied partial effects are put together. " When,
for example," says Helmholtz, " I ascend from C to its
sixth A, I recognize their mutual relationship in an
accompanying melody, by the fact that e' the fifth partial
of C, which is already very weak, is identical with the
third of A. But if I accompany the A with the chord
F-a-c, I hear the former c of the chord continue to
sound powerfully ; and know by immediate sensation
that A and C are consonants, and both of them constitu-
ents of the compound tone F."

A visible proof of the fact that in the scale like partial
effects of unlike complex wholes are put together, may be
afforded by a glance at the chords on page 208 harmoniz-

2IO RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

ing in succession do re mi fa sol la si ^x\A. do. It will be
noticed that the chords accompanying do re mi and si

=, that those accompanying do mi fa sol

all contain

and la contain

#

and that those accompanying fa

la and si contain

As shown by these chords, moreover, all the notes of
the scale, and therefore any melody composed entirely in
notes of this scale, can be harmonized throughout by
using the chords based upon the notes of the octave
below its do (C), of the octave below its J^/(G), and of the
octave below its fa (F). The do, which in this case is C,
is termed the keynote or the tonic. The sol, which is G,
is termed the dominant. This is so because it is the bass
of the chord harmonizing re and si, which notes, when the
tones of the scale are sounded in order downward or up-
ward, precede do and prepare the ear to hear it. 'Yh.e.fa,
which is F, is termed the subdominant, because it stands
in the scale just below the dominant sol.

Except at the end of a musical cadence any note in a
chord may be used in its bass or treble as its lowest or
highest note. All these, for example are different arrange-
ments of the same chord.

In order to emphasize a cadence, however, and, of
course, at the end of a composition, the ear seems to
require the use in succession of the basses and chords of

MUSICAL HARMONY.

211

the subdominant, dominant, and tonic. Of these, the sub-
dominant can sometimes be omitted, but the dominant
and tonic never. The chord of the dominant seems to be
necessary because it harmonizes with re and si, and,
when the scale is sounded downward or upward accord-
ing to the order of its notes, the ear expects to hear one
of these two before the do. With the chord of the dom-
inant in such cases it has become customary to bring in
also the seventh partial tone. This is slightly dissonant,
suggesting an effect of unrest which in musical language
indicates that the chord is used for the purpose of prepar-
ing the ear for another. As it has become a rule in music —
not, however, without exceptions — to sound the chord of
the tonic after this chord of the seventh, the ear has no
difficulty in recognizing the tonic when it is reached.
With reference to this whole subject, see " Music as a
Representative Art," Chapter V. Here are the sub-
dominant, dominant, and tonic of the key of C :

Subd. Dom. Tonic.

Tonic, Dom. Tonic.

^

si do

g'-= r v

^

^

^g^— ^

p

In composing modern music, a certain key is chosen as
the principal one, to the keynote or tonic of which all the
sounds used, however intricately developed, constantly
return. This fact is an important element in producing
an effect of unity in the organic form, especially in an
extended composition.

In the constant tendency to return to the keynote and
its harmony, we find a literal exemplification of the
method of principality, involving, as is evident without
explanation, subordination, as well also as balance between

212 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

this tendency and its opposite. These effects are brought
about, moreover, by what are termed, in the chart on
page 3, central-point and setting, the first constantly draw-
ing the lines of the movement back to their starting-
place, the second assigning limits to the impulse to
wander from it. If then the methods of movement, in
returning to the key and in departing from it, be at all
representative of moods, as they should be, we may find
in the principal and subordinate themes fulfilments of
the methods of congruity, incongruity, and comprehensive-
ness. The similarity of the movements, too, both rhyth-
mic and harmonic, as the chords pass from phrase to
phrase and key to key, necessarily involves more or less
of symmetry, and of that development of complement and
balance, which we call parallelism. Of repetition and
alternation in thesis and anti-thesis, of massing, as ex-
emplified in the grouping of soft or forcible passages,
especially in the reiterated strains of the cadence ; of
interspersion and complication in the fugue, and other
movements resembling it, and of continuity in the logical
unfolding of the theme or themes, no mention need be
made here beyond what has been already pointed out in
"The Genesis of Art-Form."

Dissonance, interchange, gradation, abruptness, transi-
tion, and progress, however, as developments of con-
sonance, which of all the methods is the one most closely
connected with the harmony of sounds, need to be
considered at more length.

To begin with, it is noteworthy that the very first prin-
ciple of modulation, by which is meant the method of
passing from chord to chord, necessitates an application
of what has been termed interchange. This, as pointed
out in Chapter XV. of " The Genesis of Art-Form," and
as will be illustrated presently, is a musical method in

MUSICAL HARMONY. 213

accordance with which, in passing from one chord to
another, unity of effect is maintained by sounding in
both chords one note that is the same. To such an ex-
tent is tlie application of this method supposed to be
necessary that, often, when, through the second chord,
the music enters a different key, a note legitimate only
to this second chord and key is arbitrarily introduced into
the first chord. (See " Genesis of Art-Form," Chapter
XV.) This method and the necessity of a special use
for it are thus mentioned by Gardiner in his " Music of
Nature." " When we modulate upon an organ or piano-
forte, in passing from one chord to another, it may be laid
down as a general rule that one of the fingers should
remain upon that key which is to form a part of the
succeeding chord. This gives a smoothness to the
transitions readily perceived by the ear. For bold and
sudden effects, these connecting links of harmony are
dispensed with."

It is hardly necessary to point out that the second
sentence of this passage enjoins the use not only of
interchange, but also of gradation, and that the last sen-
tence describes the exceptional use of the method of
abruptness. These methods, taken together too, evi-
dently determine the character of each transition, and all
of them combined that of \h.^ progress. (See page 3.)

It is, of course, the desire to emphasize the fact of the
likeness between consecutive chords that underlies the
use of interchange and gradation. The former of these, as
indicated on page 3, is a development of balance; and it
accounts, in part at least, for that law of musicians in ac-
cordance with which, in passing from chord to chord,
consecutive octaves and consecutive fifths should be
avoided. Where they are not avoided, it is frequently
the case that there is no interchange, because there is no

214 RHYTHM AND HAKMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

note in one chord that is sounded in a following one.
Here is an arrangement of harmony bringing in consecu-
tive octaves for the chords harmonizing with fa and sol,
and with si and do ; and consecutive fifths for those har-
monizing with do and re. Upon comparing this arrange-
ment with the chords made to harmonize with the same
notes on page 208, the superior unity of effect through
the interchange in the former arrangement will, at once,
be apparent.

Octaves.

Fifths.

%iii J

w

3

fa sol si do

7— r

The importance of interchange and gradation as ele-
ments of harmony is still more evident when considered
in connection with the methods of passing from one key
to another. Mention has been made already of the fact
that in entering a new key the ear, to be assured that the
transition has been made, needs to hear in succession the
chords of the dominant and of the tonic. It follows from
this that, as the tonic of any key in which the music hap-
pens to be moving may always be the dominant of some
other key, it is possible to pass at once from the one into
the other. The following is a common way of making
the circuit of all the major keys, and is accomplished
by using each tonic as a dominant. Notice how the
methods of interchange and gradation are fulfilled
throughout. Every chord, including of course the bass
note, contains at least one note that is sounded in the
chord following.

MUSICAL HARMONY.

215

Besides this it is possible to pass from one key to
another by means of the relations that exist between the
major and minor keys. The scale of C major, for instance,
is related to C minor, because both have the same sub-
dominant, dominant, and tonic. But in making these tran-
sitions again we have the same evidence of interchange
and gradation.

C Major. C Minor.

1=P=

^

^

Subd. Dom. Tonic. Subd. Dom. Tonic.

The former of these keys is related still more closely to
A minor than to C minor, because, while in C minor E,
A, and B sometimes are flat, in A minor all are natural,
— in fact all the notes, except at times G, are the same as
those used in C major, e. g.

A Minor.
.4) 1

-.»= ,

-s>.

<|=^

^*=

H^—

'ii

=5r=

^f^^

-*-■

*^ Do re mi fa sol la si do.

2l6 RHYTHM AND HARMONY JN POETRY AND MUSIC.
A Minor again.

In the same way as the key of A minor is related to C
major, D minor is related to F major, G minor to Bh major,
C minor to E|, major, F minor to At major, B minor to D
major, E minor to G major, Cs minor to E major, Fj minor
to A major, B|j minor to Dfe major, and E|j minor to G\,
major. We have noticed how closely related the key of
C is to those of G, its dominant, and of F, its subdominant.
Observe now that each of these three, — the key of C, of
G, and of F, — has a related minor key, C that of A minor,
G that of E minor, and F that of D minor. These facts
make it possible to pass directly from the key of C into
all of these six other keys. But notice how in strict ful-
filment of the requirements of interchange and gradation,
each chord, when these transitions are made according to

J^Ti — '~ —

^?=|=^=

-^^^

^^

^^

^

^^^

A. Minor. C

1-*= — 1
c

7 Major. C

M — M

'L Minor.

-±-3, 1

1 — 5* 1

1 — f — r"B — 1

-^

G>

4>— ^—

G

-^5 1 .^!

-^

^ c

SB-:

1

^ Major. C

— r— rl

D Minor.

^—^

— W 1

^^=1=^=—

MUSICAL HARMONY. 2\J

rule, contains, at least, one note that is repeated in the
chord immediately following it.

It is not necessary to explain here in what ways it is
possible to pass from C major into other keys more
remotely related to it. Enough has been said to illustrate
that for which these examples have been used, namely,
to show the influence of interchange and gradation upon
the accepted methods of making transitions from one key
to another. An experienced musician, of course, will find
various and often original ways in which to apply these
methods ; and occasionally too will make abrupt transitions
with no apparent interchange. But in these cases his
methods form exceptions to the rule ; and they are allow-
able only for the reasons that ellipses are allowable in
rhetoric — because the effects, which are not expressed,
are understood, the ear being so accustomed to the recog-
nized order of the succession of the chords that the drop-
ping of one link in the chain does not interfere with a
perception of the unity of the series. If abruptness were
carried so far that the ear could not perceive the possibil-
ity, notwithstanding it, of connecting the sounds in some
melodic or harmonic way so as to fulfil the principle of
putting together like partial effects of unlike complex
wholes, no aesthetic impression of artistic unity could be
conveyed by the method of the transition.

So far an endeavor has been made to explain the rela-
tions of consecutive chords. Let us now examine the
chords separately, and notice the different degrees of
pitch of the tones of which they are composed. We have
found on page 209 that these tones are the same as the lower
and, by consequence, more prominent partial tones com-
pounded withtheprimetoneof their fundamental bass note.
By bringing the nearer partial tones into a single octave,
we get the ordinary major chord or triad, as it is called, e.g.:

2l8 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

CFG

To this triad a fourth note is sometimes added. Inas-
much as the second, fourth, and eighth partials respect-
ively are exactly one octave above one another, and also
the third and sixth, it will be recognized that, in case
another partial be introduced into the same octave with the
second, third, and fifth, which constitute the major triad,
it must be the seventh partial. This gives the chord of
the seventh as follows :

The minor triad differs from the major in the flattening
of the note corresponding to the fifth partial, or, as the
notes are usually arranged in the chord, of that note which
is the first above the bass. It is developed from the require-
ments of the minor scale (see page 200), which itself is
developed from relations to the fundamental note of the
bass slightly more remote than are the relations of the
notes of the major scale. Notice on page 199 the eb as
the seventh partial of F, of which C is the third partial,
and also the El> as the third partial of Ak, of which C is
the third partial. Here is the minor triad:

MUSICAL HARMONY.

219

Of course, it is understood that whenever, as is usual
in forming chords, in order to bring all their notes into a
single octave, a partial note is sounded an octave below
where, as a partial, it belongs, the number of vibrations
causing it is lessened by one half. This accounts for the
fact that, while the ratios of the prime tone to the different
partial tones are as i : 2, i : 3, i : 4, i : 5, i : 6, i : 7, i : 8,
etc., the ratios of the fundamental bass note to the actual
notes used in the common chords are as i : 2, 2 : 3, 3 : 4,
4:5, 5:6, etc. Bearing this in mind, let us notice the
ratios representing the relations of the fundamental bass
note of the chord to each of the notes that in different
combinations enter into it. For an explanation of the ways
in which these ratios are calculated see pages 201 to 204.
Beginning, for convenience, with the note that is nearest
the bass, here are these relations expressed in musical
notation both in the bass and the treble clefs. The last
measure contains also the relations of the chord of the
ninth, a partial discord very seldom used, but still not
wholly discarded.

Min. 3d.

Maj. 3d

4th.

Sth.

Min. 6th.

-i ^^ —

Maj. 6th.

7n —

7th.

Sth.

— ?"T3 —

9th.

>): iio

iw —

-?= ^—

■«-or

— ,^ i^ —

^

-^or

-^Z^

^=^-

■IS-

,^ -^

—1=

-j_5 . n=-.

^J

^->

A comparison of these notes with what is said of the
partial tones on page 199, as also with what, on pages 201
to 204, is said of the methods of calculating the ratios of
the notes used in the musical scale, will enable us to
recognize that

220 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

the notes repre-
sented by

C and Ebt
C and E
CandF
C andG
C andAJj
C andG
C and Bl>
CandC
CandD

causing the chord
called the

Minor third
Major third
Fourth
Fifth

Minor sixth
Major sixth
Seventh
Eight or octave
Ninth

d accord,
ing to

relative length of -1,;-^-=
calculated --f^--/ -j of vibrations
\ ratio of

^ves the ra-
tio of

6:5

5 :4

3 ■■^

2 : 3
5:8

3 : 5

4 : 7
I : 2
4:9

5:6
4 : 5

4 : 3
3 : 2
8:5

5 : 3
7 :4
2 : I

9:4

It is evident, therefore, that the ratios which determine
the harmonies of music are either these, i : 2, 2 : 3, 3:4,
4=5 (8:5), 5 : 6, 4 : 7, 4 : 9 ; or else, in case a note used be
in a lower octave, one of these ratios with one of its fac-
tors divided by 2 ; or, in case a note used be in a higher
octave, one of these ratios with one of its factors multi-
plied by 2. This would give such additional ratios as
I : 3, 2 : 7, 2 : 9, 5 : 12, 8 : 7, 8 : 9, 10 : 12, 16 : 7, and 16 : 9.

CHAPTER XVI.

PSYCHICAL AND PHYSICAL REASONS FOR THE EFFECTS
OF MUSICAL FORM.

Relations of the Ratios Underlying Effects in Music to those in the Other
Arts — Why is it Necessary that Notes should Chord? — Psychological
Reason — Correspondence of it to the Reason Given for Effects of
Rhythm — Physiological Confirmation of this Reason — Beats Resulting
from Discordant Notes — New Resulting Notes Formed by these Beats
— In the Major Triad, the Resulting Note is itself the Tonic — Beats
Disagreeable, because Interruptions of the Regularity of Periodic
Vibrations — Cause Noise, not Music — Blending of Psychological and
Physiological Reasons for Effects of Musical Form : Mind and Ear
must Recognize that Like is Put with Like.

A S those who are at all versed in aesthetics will under-
stand, there are important bearings upon the other
arts of the use of the simple ratios, mentioned at the
end of the last chapter. At present, however, it concerns
us only to find out, if we can, why it is that chords repre-
senting them are the only ones that in music produce
satisfactory effects.

We have already found one reason for this in the fact
that these ratios represent the only tones that are natu-
rally compounded with, and therefore that can chord with,
the partial tones of the fundamental bass note. But what
of that ? Why is it necessary that tones should chord ?
Why does the mind or the ear demand concordance in
the sounds used in music?

In answer to this we might begin by inferring a psycho-

222 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

logical reason. Sounds result from vibrations that cause
oscillations in the air, and through it in the liquid within
the inner labyrinth of the ear, and finally in the fibrous
terminations of the auditory nerve that float in this liquid.
There is a sense in which it may be said that the mind is
conscious of these vibrations, for when it hears a certain
number of them, per second, it invariably hears a sound
of a certain pitch. Now if the vibrations causing two
notes start together every second, third, fourth, fifth, or
sixth time that they are made, as they do in the notes
composing the musical concords, it is easy for the mind
— on the supposition, of course, that in some subtle way it
takes cognizance of vibrations — to perceive a unity in the
result, because it can analyze the vibrations and perceive
that they all form exact subdivisions of certain definite
wholes. But if the vibrations causing the tones start
together at only long and irregular intervals, then any
analysis or classification of the different constituent effects
is impossible. Of course such a result cannot be else than
confusing and unsatisfactory.

This explanation, which is the one given by Euler, has
much to recommend it. We know how it is in the case of
musical rhythm. Certain measures, to all of which an equal
time is given, are filled with notes and rests that represent
exact subdivisions of this time — the whole of it or a half,
a quarter, an eighth, or more, as the case may be. When
the musician composes or sings in rhythm, he beats time,
mentally if not physically, and puts into each measure
just the number of notes that will fill it. Why are we not
justified in surmising that the principle which the mind
applies consciously when it counts the beats that deter-
mine the relations of a note to rhythm, it applies uncon-
sciously when it counts the beats or vibrations that

PSYCHICAL AND PHYSICAL REASONS. 223

determine the relations of tone to pitch ? The fundamen-
tal bass note of the chord represents a certain number of
vibrations per second. These constitute, so to spealc, the
chord-measure, and only those notes can be used in the
chord which represent the partial tones produced by exact
subdivisions of this measure. In fact, there is ground
enough for holding the theory that music is no more than
an artistic adaptation of the laws of rhythm, of a part of
which, as related to duration, the mind is conscious ; but
of another part of which, as related to pitch — i. e., to the
rhythm resulting from tone-vibrations, — it is unconscious.

But it has not yet been shown here that the mind
actually does count or compare vibrations. It may do
this, but is there any proof of it? We may best begin an
answer to this question by going back of the action of the
mind to that of the ear that occasions it, and ask, is there
any proof of a physical requirement in the ear underlying
an operation analogous to comparison as made in the
realm of consciousness ?

There is proof of such a requirement. If we sound at
the same time two very low notes of an organ separated
from each other on the scale by only half a tone, — C and
C* for instance, — we shall hear, not a consecutive tone,
but a succession of throbs or beats. Knowing that all
sounds are caused by vibrations, and that a difference in
pitch is caused by a difference in the time of vibrations, it
is easy to understand how these beats are produced.
Suppose that one of the notes is a result of fifty vibra-
tions in a second, and the other of fifty-one. At the end
of the twenty-fifth vibration in the first of the tones,
there will have been, in the second, twenty-five and one
half vibrations. But as each vibration necessitates a
movement in one direction half the time, and in a con-

224 RHYTHM AND HARMON Y IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

trary direction the other half the time, the vibrations in
the first tone will move from the twenty-fifth to the fiftieth
in an opposite direction from those in the second tone.
For this reason the vibrations causing the two tones will
tend to suppress and to still one another, just as is the
case where two waves of nearly equal size but contrary
motions come together at the mouth of a river. How-
ever, at the fiftieth vibration in the first tone, and at the
fifty-first in the second, the vibrations in the two will
again move in the same direction, and tend to reinforce
one another. A difference between two notes, therefore,
corresponding to one vibration in a second, will cause one
suppressed period and one reinforced period of sound, —
or one beat in a second ; a difference of two vibrations,
two beats in a second, and so on. In a difference of this
kind between low notes caused by a limited number of
vibrations in a second, these beats are perceptible, as has
been said, and are easily counted ; but this is not the case
when they are produced by high notes. Then one of two
results follows. They either become so numerous as to
form vibrations causing an entirely new tone, or else they
continue to exist as beats which the ear cannot distinguish,
but feels to be disagreeable.

They form a new tone whenever thirty-three or more of
them occur in a second — this being the number needed
to produce the lowest audible sound. It has been found
that whenever the vibrations of two combined tones
differ, even if they are consonant, this new resultant note
is produced, and the number of vibrations in a second
causing this resultant note, is always equal to the differ-
ence between the numbers of vibrations per second in the
tones that are combined. For instance, if the ratio of
combined notes be that of four to five, or as that between

PSYCHICAL AND PHYSICAL REASONS.

225

two hundred and two hundred and fifty, the resultant
note will be represented by i, i. e., it will be caused by
fifty vibrations. The ratios of the notes used in the ordi-
nary chords (see page 220) give these as resultant notes.
Do and major third, 4 : 5, difference i, which represents

the second octave below 4, i. e., do.
Do and the fifth, 2 : 3, difference i, which represents the

first octave below 2, i. e., do.
Do and the second or upper do, i : 2, difference i, which

represents the note of the lower octave, i. e., do.
Do and minor third, 5 : 6, difTerence i, which represents

the second octave below the fifth of 6, i. e., la.
Do and the fourth, 3 : 4, difference i, which represents the

second octave below 4, i.e., fa.
Do and major sixth, 3:5, difference 2, which represents

the fifth below the fundamental 3, i. e.,fa.
Do and minor sixth, 5 : 8, difference 3, which represents

the major sixth below the fundamental 5, i. e.,

minor me.
In the following, the chords themselves are placed in
the treble clef, and the resultant notes in the bass clef.

Notes in the major triad :

Maj. 3d. s'l>. 8tli.

Less perfect consonances.

Min. 3d. 4th Maj. 6th. M in. 6th.

The first three measures above will show us a new reason
why the notes of tKe major triad form the most simple"
chord, and the one most closely related to the tonic. This
is because the resultant note of all of the tones composing

226 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN FOE TR Y AND MUSIC.

the triad is itself the tonic, or do, of the scale in which they
are used. It will be evident, too, from what has been
said, that often the resultant notes will not harmonize with
every note used in the combined sound producing them.
When they do not, they themselves, in connection with
the tone with which they do not harmonize, give rise to
beats. Beats, therefore, in one form or another, are in-
evitable characteristics of discords.

Why does the ear find these beats disagreeable ? For
this reason. They are interruptions in the continuity or
regularity of the vibrations. On page 194 attention was
directed to the fact that a musical sound, and therefore
all the pleasure derivable from it as such, is due to the
rapid periodic, or — what means the same — the regularly
recurring motion of the sonorous body ; and a noise to its
non-periodic, or irregularly recurring motion.

When beats occur in connection with harmony, there-
fore, there is noise instead of music. But noise in music
not only violates the artistic principle which requires that
like amid varied effects be put with like, but it com-
municates to the auditory nerves a series of shocks, con-
veying an intermittent, irregular, disordered excitation ;
whereas it is natural to suppose that, in all agreeable excita-
tions of the nerves, the thrill and glow that are pleasurable
are characterized by the elasticity and freedom accom-
panying non-interference. We may infer this from the
fact that in nature all movements are regular and rhyth-
mical. The leaves and limbs of a twig, for instance, vi-
brate, when struck by a blow, as regularly as does a
pendulum. The same must be true of the oscillations in
Corti's fibres, as they are called, in the cochlea or audito-
rium of the ear. At any rate, we know that only regularly
recurring vibrations can produce the sensations in the

PSYCHICAL AND PHYSICAL REASONS. 227

auditory nerves which render music enjoyable. Helm-
holtz says :

' ' Consonance is a continuous ; dissonance, an interrupted sensation of
tone. Two consonant tones flow on quietly side by side in an intermittent,
undisturbed stream ; dissonant tones cut one another up into separate pulses
of tone. This description of the distinction at which we have arrived
agrees precisely with Euclid's old definition, ' Consonance is the blending of
a higher with a lower tone. Dissonance is incapacity to mix, when two
tunes cannot blend, but appear rough to the ear."

In conclusion, we may blend the physiological and
psychological reasons for the effects of music, thus : The
ear has become habituated through long experience to
search for unity of effect in sounds. When it hears musi-
cal chords, it recognizes, after a few vibrations, that all
the sounds are exact subdivisions of some one note, — in
other words, that what is heard results from a succession
of like amid varied effects. At other times, when the mind
cannot recognize that this is the case, it is natural to sup-
pose that there is an endeavor to recognize the fact, and,
owing to this endeavor, that there is a positive effort on
the part of the organs of sensation in the ear to adjust
themselves to the new conditions and to discover ele-
ments of unity and likeness that do not exist. That the
ear is sometimes successful in doing this, is proved by its
acceptance of the slight variations from true harmony that
are found in the temperate scale. In decided discords,
however, nothing can make the sounds seem to compare,
and the nerves and muscles are wearied by the effort of
trying to do it, just as they would be, were they listening
intently for sounds or footsteps which they failed to hear.
Of course, the nerves of hearing, strained, and on the alert,
but without success, give the ear pain, not pleasure. Pleas-
ure in connection with sound, aesthetic satisfaction in con-

228 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETR Y AND MUSIC.

nection with tone, is experienced by mind or ear in the
degree only in which the resuh is perceived to be a unity
obtained from, the apparent variety of unlike complex
wholes by putting together those that have like partial
effects.

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

229

INTRODUCTION.

A SYSTEMATIC arrangement of this series of essays
would place " Music as a Representative Art " in
the same volume as " Poetry as a Representative Art."
But it has been thought best to depart from this arrange-
ment on account, partly, of the length of the latter of
these essays, partly, of the brevity of the two that are in
this volume, and partly of the desirability of bringing
together under one cover material naturally fitted to ap-
peal to those especially interested in music.

For another reason, too, this course may be found ad-
vantageous. It was shown in the first of these series of
essays, " Art in Theory," that the higher arts, sometimes
called for this reason, the humanities, are all developed
from forms in which a man expresses thought or mental
feeling, which forms, because thought and feeling are in-
audible and invisible, are always adaptations by him, for
representative purposes, of sights or sounds furnished by
the physical phenomena of external nature, including
the physical utterances or movements which are natural
to the human beings about him as possessors of bodies
as well as of minds.

It was shown, moreover, that the representation of
mind, or the expression of thought and feeling, and the
representation of nature, or the use of forms unchanged
in appearance from the way in which they are presented
in the world about one, necessarily go together. " An
artificially shaped machine or implement," it was pointed

231

232

INTRODUCTION.

out, " at once suggests the question, ' what can it do ? '
But a drawing or carving never suggests this question,
but rather ' what did the man who drew the object think
about it or of it, that he should have reproduced it ? ' "

A further consideration suggested by the fact that the
art-form is an expression of thought and mental feeling,
and also a reproduction of an appearance of nature, was
that the efforts of the artist must constantly be turned in
two apparently different directions, one tending to de-
velop the form on account of its effects upon the mind ;
the other, on account of its effects upon the ear or eye.
It was said, too, that the first tendency leads him to de-
velop the possibilities of significance in the form ; the sec-
ond tendency, to develop the possibilities of style in it,
and, therefore, of such characteristics as rhythm and har-
mony, which, as exemplified in poetry and music, have
been considered in the preceding essay.

The essay which follows has to do with form as expres-
sive of significance ; and it will serve to counteract any
erroneous impressions, if such have been produced, with
reference to the exclusiveness of the claims of form con-
sidered merely as form. It will serve to do this all the
more effectively inasmuch as music is one of the two arts
— architecture being the other — concerning the necessity
of significance in which there is the most need of argu-
ment. For years, certain writers have supposed it to be
an indication of critical discrimination to divide the arts
into those which they term the representative and the
presentative. Reasons why this distinction is detrimental
to the true theory of art, and to true methods of pro-
duction in it, are suggested in the Preface, as well as in
Chapters IV. to VIII. of "Art in Theory," and, as applied
to poetry, are clearly indicated in chapter XIX. of

INTRODUCTION. 233

" Poetry as a Representative Art." But, notwithstand-
ing what is said in those places, critics of this school have
strenuously insisted, as in the quotation on page 235, that
the theory that all art is representative is certain to
"break down" when applied in detail to music. How
far this prophecy has been justified the reader of this
essay will have an opportunity of judging.

As will be unfolded in the pages that follow, sig-
nificance in music is derived partly from its use of
instinctive methods of intonation (aside from articula-
tion as in words), through which men convey to one
another intelligence of particular phases of feeling ; and
partly from its use of methods of sound coming from
sources other than human. The use of the first of these
methods causes music to represent the mind ; the use of
the second, causes it to represent nature ; but it is well to
notice that the second method merely carries further, as
will be exemplified, a process which the mind, according
to the principle of correspondence, is constantly employing,
and that only in cases in which sounds of nature are used,
such as the mind has not previously employed for purposes
of expression, can music be said to be, in a strict sense
imitative.

On page 97 of the essay on " Rhythm and Harmony in
Poetry and Music " it was said — and the statement needs
to be repeated here — that significance in music is deter-
mined by the character of that which is there described as
the motive. This motive, itself representative, continues to
be representative when developed ; but, nevertheless, it is
developed almost entirely in accordance with the require-
ments of form irrespective of significance. In this regard
there is a close correspondence between music and archi-
tecture. The musician constructs a symphony from a

234 INTRODUCTION.

significant series of tones ; and precisely in the same way
an architect constructs a building from a significant series
of outlines, as in a rounded or pointed arch. In both arts,
however, there is an occasional return to nature for the
purpose of incorporating, if not imitating, in the product
some new expression of significance. But as both arts are
developed, as will be shown in the first chapter following,
from a sustained and subjective method of giving expres-
sion to a first suggestion, a return to nature is much less
frequent in them than in the other arts. Poetry, being
developed from the unsustained and responsive methods
of expression underlying language, manifests a constant
tendency to talk back and, therefore, to mention and
describe what has interrupted the flow of thought and
presented new thought. Painting and sculpture, being
developed from the same methods of expression, when
underlying vision, manifest a constant tendency to look
back and, therefore, to imitate and depict what has inter-
rupted the contemplation of one object of sight and pre-
sented another.

This fact, that certain characteristics of art are wellnigh
entirely dependent upon form considered as significant,
while certain others are equally dependent on form con-
sidered merely in itself, makes the tasks both of the art-
producer and of the art-critic peculiarly difficult. To
neglect the requirements of significance is to disregard
the soul of art, that which is the very substance of its
life; and to neglect the requirements of form is to dis-
regard its body, that which is essential to its artistic effec-
tiveness.

One might suppose that fundamental truths like these,
however artists and critics might differ in their applica-
tions of them, would be accepted as self-evident. But this

INTRODUCTION. 235

is not the case. A writer in " The Nation," in criticising
the author's " Art in Theory," informs his readers that
" the true theory of the nature of art," the " develop-
ment " of which theory he " commends to students of
aesthetics," is that art is "the application to anything"
— the italics are his own — " in the spirit of play and for
pleasure only, of the principle of proportion. The arts,"
he goes on to say, " deal with a great variety of matter, and
by no means all of them with representation. Music deals
with pure sound," etc. ; and again, as if there were no
necessity for poetic harmony as explained in the last essay,
" Rhyme and rhythm added to the expression of thought
make poetry; sound" — and the contrast indicated here,
as well as the whole surrounding context shows that he
means sound irrespective of its expressional possibilities
— " sound submitted to the laws of harmony and melody
becomes music." Notice the following, too, from " The
Independent": "The author"— of "Art in Theory"
— "has apparently found a dim clue in the antagonisms
which figure for so much in the evolution of scientific
theories, and allowed it " i. e., the distinction between
significance and form, " to beguile him into the belief
that it might be worked into a theory of art. . . . The
distinction exists for critical purposes " — and if so, why
should it not be used in a critical essay? — "but has
little importance in reality. Art is simply, wholly and
entirely a matter of form . . . the best critical opinion
nowadays assumes the identity of the art-form with the
art-meaning." Yes, nowadays ; but there have been times
when the best critical opinion was represented by men
like the poet Schiller ; and he did not think it superfluous
but essential to point out, in his " Letters on a Man's
.(Esthetic Education," that, in art, " form without subject-

236 INTRODUCTION.

matter is the shadow of a possession, and the utmost
dexterity of art in expression is useless to him who has
nothing to express."

Goethe once said that his poetry had been a continual
confession. Suppose that it had been merely a confession.
Would this alone have made him the greatest poet of his
time ? To become such, did he not need, besides thinking
of the significance of that which he was to say, to think
also of the form in which he was to say it ? And was not
the significance one thing, and the form — the versification
— another thing? And might he not have paid attention
to the one, and not to the other? Most certainly he
might. But more than this is true. If his attention had
been directed chiefly to the significance, he might have
ranked with Wordsworth ; if to the form, with Swinburne.
But just because it was directed exclusively to neither ;
just because he had a " dim clue " through which he was
"beguiled" in a matter of "little importance," he was
careful to pay due regard to both, and, by maintaining the
proper balance between them, to rank where he does —
with Dante and Shakespeare. So in painting and sculpture.
The figures of Benjamin West and Julius Schnorr are
arranged more effectively than many a most spectacu-
larly significant climax in a drama; those of Balthasar
Denner and Florent Willems manifest the most scrupu-
lous regard for the requirements of line and color. Yet
because exclusive attention to either significance or form
led all of them to neglect one of the two, they never can
rank with artists of which this was not true — Raphael,
Titian, and Rubens.

The same is true with reference to architecture. Fif-
teen years ago everybody in Boston was talking about
" sincerity " in art. As applied to building a house, this

INTRODUCTION. 237

meant that every respective bath-room, or closet, or stair-
case should be indicated on the exterior by a significantly
constructed window, or blank space, or protuberance, — a
thoroughly sound principle so far as it was applicable.
But with the narrowness and the lack, in a distinctive
sense, of comprehension characterizing the artistic no-
tions of our country, the principle was applied to every-
thing — to every exterior effect, for instance, without any
regard to any requirements of proportion or harmony.
The result was those developments of the " Queen
Anne " style, which even the unbalanced conceptions of
American criticism had sense enough to nickname
" Bloody Mary " and " Crazy Jane." Probably, however,
even these were an advance upon the method pursued in
the construction of the old Douglas Park University of
Chicago, a huge Gothic building, the exterior of which
is said to have been actually completed before any at-
tempt had been made to decide upon the rooms or halls
to be placed in the interior. Why should this not have
been the case? In those days, when they wanted a meat
market or a prison, they put up indiscrirninately what was
supposed to resemble either a Gothic cathedral or a
Greek temple. There is no necessity of stopping to argue
how far all buildings manifesting so partial a regard for
the requirements of art rank below one in which the
claims of both significance and form have been given due
weight, whether it be a private house or a public hall, a
villa on the Rhine, or a cathedral at Cologne.

And so with music. The difference between a melody
of Offenbach and the least successful recitative-viorVi of
Wagner is the difference between treating musical form as
if it were wholly a matter of form, and as if it were wholly
a matter of significance. The differen.ce between both and

238 INTRODUCTION.

the best music of Wagner, and of Mozart, Beethoven, and
SulHvan, too, is that in this latter the equihbrium between
the two tendencies in art is maintained. The essays on
" The Genesis of Art-Form " and " Rhythm and Har-
mony in Poetry and Music " have shown what is neces-
sary in order to develop musical form considered as form.
The following essay is intended to show what is neces-
sary in order to choose as the germ of such development,
a form that is significant of a particular phase of feeling.

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

CHAPTER I.

REPRESENTATION IN SONG AS CONTRASTED WITH THAT
IN SPEECH.

The Sustained Sounds of Singing and the Uusustained of Talking — The
Former as Developed in Music and the Latter in Poetry — Differences
between these Two Methods of Vocal Representation — Music as Neces-
sitating Sustained Sounds — The Germs of its Representations are Mainly
in Inarticulate Utterance, Instinctive and Associative, rather than Imi-
tative and Comparative — The Representation of Speech, also Depen-
dent partly upon Inarticulate Intonations — How these are Related to
the Various Developments of Music — Representation in Music not
Distinct and Definite, as in Words — Darwin's Theory of the Origin of
Music — Gurney's Comment on this — Further Comments — Why Music
is not Made Definitely Intelligible or Imitative — How it Represents
both Mental Processes and Natural Surroundings — The Mind of the
Composer not Necessarily in the Mood Naturally Represented by his
Music — His Relation to this Mood that of a Painter to the Mood
Represented in his Model's Pose.

"X^rHEN a man, or any living" creature, gives vocal ex-
pression to that which actuates him, there are two
distinct forms which this may assume, both of which,
however, all creatures cannot always produce. The
sounds may be either sustained or unsustained. A dog,
for instance, howls, and also barks ; a cat purrs and also
mews ; a bird warbles and also chirps ; a man sings and

239

240 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

also talks. If these forms be at all representative, the sus-
tained sounds must represent something sustained, and
the others something not sustained. As a rule, an inter-
nal mental process is continued or sustained because it is
not interrupted. As a rule, too, that which interrupts is
external to the thoughts and feelings which constitute
the factors of this process. Interrupt the creature pro-
ducing the sustained sounds, — go out at night and speak to
your howling dog, take the milk from a purring cat, the
nest from a warbling bird, or the plaything from a singing
child, and at once you will hear sounds of the other form,
— barking, mewing, chirping, or scolding in words. We
may say, therefore, that the sustained form is mainly sub-
jective, or spontaneous, and that the unsustained form is
mainly relative or responsive. Birds and men instinctively
sing to meet demands that come from within ; they in-
stinctively chirp or talk to meet those that come from
without. The singing sounds continue as long as their
producer wishes to have them ; the chirping and talking
sounds are checked as soon as they have accomplished
their outside purpose, and are continued only by way of
reiteration or else of change, in order to suit the changing
effects that they are perceived to have upon the creatures
or persons toward whom they are directed. It is not
essential that the sustained, singing sounds should convey
any definite intelligence to another, because there is no
intrinsic necessity that he should understand them. But
the unsustained sounds must convey definite intelligence,
because this is their object.

These two conditions respectively correspond, as will be
observed, to those that underlie effects in music and in
poetry. It is to be shown, in the discussion which follows,
that there is a sense in which the former art as well as

REPRESENTATION IN SONG. 24 1

the latter is representative ; but it is important to notice
that the two arts are not representative of the same con-
ditions. Therefore they do not represent in the same
way nor to the same degree either mind or nature. Music
gives expression to certain classes of sustained and sub-
jective moods, joyous or sad, concerning which there is
no outside or objective reason for imparting any specific
or definite information. The moment intelligence of a
particular mood needs to be communicated thus, as in
cases of outside emergency of an ordinary character, or of
those exciting one to extraordinary petulance or rage, then
the dog barks, the bird chirps, and the man, in order to
make himself distinctly understood, uses his throat, tongue,
and lips in the various ways that cause the distinct articu-
lation which characterizes words.

It is important to notice, too, that this difference dis-
tinguishable between the lowest and most elementary forms
of these two methods of vocal representation is the only one
that is fundamental. All the other distinctions that can
be made between sounds characterize alike those of song
and of speech. As will be shown in the next chapter,
sounds differ in time, force, pitch, and quality. Accord-
ing to the first, one sound may have more duration than
another. Artistically developed, in connection with force,
this difference leads to rhythm. But there is rhythm in
poetry as well as in music. According to the second, one
sound may be louder than another. But this kind of em-
phasis is as common in conversation as in chanting.
According to the third, one sound may be higher in the
musical scale than another. Artistically developed, this
leads to tune. But the voice rises and falls in speaking as
well as in singing. According to the fourth, one sound may
be more sweet and resonant than another. But the differ-

242 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

ences between pure, orotund, guttural, pectoral, and aspi-
rated tones, are as decided as are those between the tones
in different parts in singing and between the characters
of the sounds produced by different musical instruments.

When we come to use the word sustained, however, we
can say that in music a tone is sustained in time, with a
degree of force, at one pitch, and with one kind of quality,
in a sense that is not true as applied to speaking. We
may use articulated words in a song, yet there is a radical
difference between singing them and talking them ; and,
so far as concerns merely musical effects, these can be
produced, as is often the case not only in instrumental but
even in vocal music, without any of those produced by
articulation.

It is possible to separate even more clearly the original
germ of musical representation from that of poetry. As
shown in Chapter XX. of " Art in Theory," the ele-
mentary tendency mainly developed in the former, is
found in those instinctive and always inarticulate ejacula-
tions or more prolonged utterances, as of fright or of
pleasure, which are natural to a man, and these, when,
intentionally or artistically repeated for purposes of ex-
pression, come to mean what they do in fulfilment of the
principle of association. The elementary tendency mainly
developed in poetry is found in those forms of articula-
tion used after expression ceases to be wholly instinctive
and becomes reflective ; and in these forms of articulation,
as shown in Chapter I. of " Poetry as a Representative
Art," a man begins to imitate what he hears and to make
his utterances mean what they do in fulfilment of the
principle of comparison. At the same time, as pointed out
in the same place, association and comparison are closely
allied ; and, even when they are most different, expression

REPRESENTA TJON IN SONG. 243

is developed with completeness in the degree only in
which it manifests some traces of both.

Even speech, for instance, while meaning what it does
on account mainly of articulation is, in part, also dependent,
precisely as is music, upon that which is not articulation
— but what we term intonation. A babe too young to
talk, a foreigner using a language unknown to us, or a
friend talking at such a distance that his words are indis-
tinguishable, can each, notwithstanding this disadvantage,
reveal to us something of his meaning. We can tell from
his tones, aside from his words, whether he be excited or
calm, elated or depressed, pleased or angered, earnest or
indifferent. The effects thus produced spring, evidently,
from a natural tendency which causes the movements or
directions — -what we might term the general methods of
the voice — to correspond to those of the motives that
actuate one.

On account of this expressional tendency to fulfil, either
by way of association or of comparison, what may be termed
the principle of correspondence, the intonations of speech may
be said to be, in a true sense, representative. All of us
must be aware that an acquaintance can be recognized in
the dark largely because his conversation is characterized
by similar ways, at certain definite intervals, of moving and
checking and pitching his utterances ; in other words, be-
cause he has a certain rhythm and tune of his own. Make
one a public speaker or a reciter of stories, like the min-
strel of former ages, and these movements of the voice
will be made by him with more art and more regularity.
Hence the origin of rhythm, as well as of chanting, among
those story-tellers who were the first poets. Make the
rhythm a little more marked and regular and arranged in
clauses of the same length, on the principle of putting

244 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

like with like, and we have verse. Make the rhythm still
more marked, by the use of similar sounds at regular in-
tervals, and we have rhyme. Vary the rhythm to express
different ideas or classes of ideas, and we have the various
kinds of metre. Vary the rhythm still more, as well as
the upward and downward movements of the voice con-
stituting the tune or chant, and, in connection with this,
pass from unsustained to sustained tones, and we have a
musical melody. " We are justified in assuming," says
Helmholtz, in his exhaustive work on the " Sensations of
Tone," " that, historically, all music was developed from
song. Afterward the power of producing similar melodic
effects was attained by means of other instruments, which
had a quality of tone compounded in a manner resembling
that of the human voice." Of course, in connection with
the development of melody and the invention of musical
instruments came the arrangement of notes in musical
scales and the beginning of harmony ; but these have to
do not with representation in music, but with the methods
of elaborating the form of representation. At present, it
is sufficient to notice that, when once we have a melody
sung in the notes of a scale, we have but to combine cer-
tain of these notes, that is, to sound do,, mi, sol, not succes-
sively but simultaneously, and we have harmony. If,
now, we produce both melody and harmony on different
musical instruments, and, in connection with these, sing
without articulating words, as, in fact, most singers do,
we can yet produce intelligible music ; or we can cease to
use our voices at all, and still do the same.

Evidently, there is nothing to prevent the sounds as
thus developed from continuing to be representative. At
the same time, as has been intimated, there is no reason
why they should be representative in a way as unmistak-

REPRESENTA TION IN SONG. 245

ably distinct and definite as we find in language ; and they
are not so. Berlioz, we are told, used to amuse himself
by singing tunes with Italian words, and waiting till his
hearers had demonstrated how successfully the character
of the Italian verse had inspired the composer, when he
would inform them that the music was from a symphony
of Beethoven. We must all have noticed, too, how scores
; of different sets of words, describing or expressing by no
means the same experiences or conceptions, may often,
with equal appropriateness, be sung to the same melody.
But, while this is so, it is worthy of note that in certain
general features, especially in expressing certain phases of
feeling, all these verses must be alike. They must all, for
instance, be either joyous or sad, or represent either
elation or depression. With this general and mainly
emotive method of representation, music must be con-
tent.

It may not prove uninteresting in this connection to
refer to a theory advanced by Darwin in his " Descent of
Man," Part II., Chapter XIX. He first notices the fact
that most of the sounds corresponding to those of singing
are made by the birds and lower animals — frogs, toads,
tortoises, alligators, etc., — during the season of breeding,
and mainly by the males ; also, that a certain kind of
music is found among the most barbarous people, and
that not only among them, but among civilized people
also, it has power to excite emotions of tenderness, love,
triumph, and ardor for war. The sensations and ideas
excited in us by music, he says, appear " from their vague-
ness yet depth, like mental reversions to the emotions
and thoughts of a long past age." He adds :

' ' All these facts . . . become, to a certain extent, intelligible if we
may assume that musical tone and rhythm were used by the half-human

246 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

progenitors of man during the season of courtship. ... In this case,
from the deeply-laid principle of inherited associations, musical tones would
be likely to excite in us in a vague and indefinite manner the strong emo-
tions of a long past age. . . . The suspicion does not appear improba-
ble that the progenitors of man, either the males or the females, or both
sexes, before they had acquired the power of expressing their mutual love in
articulate language, endeavored to charm each other with musical notes and
rhythm. The impassioned orator, bard, or musician, when, with his varied
tones and cadences, he excites the strongest emotions in his hearers, little
suspects that he uses the same means by which, at an extremely remote
period, his half-human ancestors aroused each other's ardent passions daring
their mutual courtship and rivalry.''

In commenting on this passage, Gurney, in his " Power
of Sound," says :

' ' Whether or not the theory commends itself on its own merits, there is
no reason why it should seem derogatory to the art whose effects it would in
some measure explain ; for, at any rate, the differentiation in question is so
complete that transcendentalists can easily afford to ignore the early steps of
it. . . . Those who believe in the expression of spirit through matter
need find no difficulty in the sublimation of a spiritual language out of un-
spiritual associations. . . . AVhat was primarily v. simple 'Ultimate
pleasure which the organism was adapted to receive, might well become, in
time, capable of opening the floodgates to mighty emotions . . . and
so to tell us of things we have not seen and shall not see.''

These views are of interest here chiefly on account of
the confirmation that they afford of the antiquity of the
musical element. In attributing a conscious and non-
subjective design to these sounds, however, if in nothing
else, Mr. Darwin seems to have lost sight of a very im-
portant fact with reference to all expressions of this
character. A man sings or hums during courtship, not
to show himself off to his sweetheart, but to give vent to
his joy in having a sweetheart. She may be charmed by
the result, but his first object is less to do something for
her than for himself ; and if this be the case with a design-

REPRESENTA TION IN SONG. 247

ing creature like man, how much more Hkely is it to be so
with birds and other creatures governed mainly by in-
stinct ! Nor must it be supposed that what Darwin
suggests, though it may be the main motive, is the only
one underlying singing in these lower orders of life. The
solitary canary in his cage will sing just as sweetly when
the morning's light arouses him as the lark looking down
upon his mate in the nest below him.

In short, there seems to be no way of getting a true
conception of the nature of musical form, except by recog-
nizing, as all will readily do, that in natural music, with
which, as distinguished from artistic music, we are now
•dealing, sustained sounds, as distinguished from the un-
sustained Sounds that we hear in speech, represent sus-
tained emotive processes. The fact that they are sustained
leads us to infer that the mind is in a subjective state,
and influenced only slightly by external considerations.
The slightness of this influence, moreover, sufficiently
explains both why the forms of music are not made
definitely intelligible to a listener, and also why they
contain so little of the imitative element. A man in the
subjective, absent-minded condition in which he takes to
humming, is usually equally unconscious of the presence
either of surrounding persons or of sounds. He is not in
a mood, therefore, either to address the one distinctly, or
to repeat the other accurately.

While this is true, however, it is also true that the
sounds produced by him will necessarily, not in a specific
but in a general way, represent both his own mental
processes and his surroundings. Take any uncultivated
person, for instance, who has not learned to conceal and
so, to a certain extent, to misrepresent his moods. We
shall find that the intonations of the tune hummed by

248 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

him, like his gait, will inform us at once of the general
tenor of the motive impelling him ; whether, for instance,
it be hopeful or desponding. This accords with what has
been said already. But besides this, if he have ever heard,
especially if he have heard frequently, sounds like the
humming of bees, the whistling of winds or Of railway
locomotives, or the notes of squirrels, quails, whippoor-
wills, robins, catbirds, or of songs sung by men and
women about him, in nine cases out of ten, his own tones,
at times unconsciously to himself, but nevertheless actu-
ally, will imitate some of these sounds, all of which, being-
external to himself, are, so far as he is concerned, those of
external nature. Natural music, therefore, is representa-
tive both of man and of nature.

The art of music begins when a man becomes interested
in natural music to such an extent as to be led to develop
its forms for their own sakes (see " Art in Theory," Chap-
ter VIII.). For instance, one in an absent-minded way
may be singing, or listening to others who are singing.
Suddenly some feature of the sounds attracts his atten-
tion, and he starts to experiment with them ; and soon,
as a result not of absent-mindedness now, but of present-
minded design, he produces a melody. This process needs
only to be carried on by different men for a few centuries,
and it will lead necessarily to elaborate works of art, the
development of a system in accordance with which they
may be composed, and the invention of all sorts of musical
instruments on which to execute them.

Notice particularly that the composer of this artistic
music need not himself always be in the mood naturally
represented by it. " Critics," says Schumann, in one of
his letters, " always wish to know what the composer him-
self cannot tell them. . . . Good heavens ! will the

REPRESENTA TION IN SONG. 249

day ever come when people will cease to ask us what we
mean by our divine compositions? . . . Where a
youth of eighteen hears a world-famous occurrence in a
musical work, a man only perceives some rustic event,
while the musician probably never thought of either, but
simply gave the best music that he happened to feel
within him just then." And Mendelssohn says : "If you
asked me what I thought on the occasion in question, I
say the song itself, precisely as it stands."

It is evident that the relation of the composer to the
mood naturally represented by his music is analogous to
that of a painter to the mood naturally represented by the
pose of his model. All that the musician needs to do, is
to take some musical movement resulting from a particular
mood, and develop his composition in a manner analogous
to this movement, or consistent with it. But in order to
do this successfully as a result of art, it is evidently im-
perative that he should first make himself thoroughly
familiar with the motives and methods of music as an
expression of nature.

CHAPTER II.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL DURATION AND
FORCE : RHYTHM.

Similarity of Poetic and Musical Representation — Representative Intona-
tions of Elocution — Through Duration, Force, Pitch, and Quality — Dis-
coursive or Associative and Dramatic or Comparative Elocution — Each
Representative according to the Principle of Correspondence — Musical
Duration as Representative — Musical Duration as Representative of
both Mental Moods and Natural Effects — Illustrations — Musical Force
as Representative of both Mental Moods and Natural Effects — Rhythm
as a Combination of Effects of Duration and Force — Significance of
Rhythm- — As Representing Moods of Buoyancy and Exhilaration — Con-
fidence, Triumph — Self-Poise, Dignity — The Gliding, Yielding, Grace-
ful — Hesitation, Doubt — Disturbance, Turmoil, Confusion — Imitative
Effects — Forging — Flight Downward — Upward — Snakes — Water —
Flowing Ease — Giants' Tread.

TV /[" USIC has been said to represent sustained mental
processes, and yet to do this in only an indefinite
and general way. The most general way of doing it, how-
ever, involves differences in the methods of giving ex-
pression to different phases of these processes. It would
be in order, therefore, at this place, to enter into a full
discussion of these different methods. But the effects of
music are subject, in the main, to the same laws of sound
as are those of poetry ; and, as presented in book form,
poetic effects are much the more easy of the two to illus-
trate. For this reason, as well as because what the author
had to say of poetry in this connection was first prepared
for publication, an extended treatment of many of these

250

REPRESENTA TION THROUGH M USICAL DURA TION. 2$ I

methods, with the exact significance represented by the
different phases of each of them, has already been given
in the volume entitled " Poetry as a Representative Art,"
Chapters IV. to XII. inclusive. Of course, much that
was said there, it would be superfluous to repeat here.
But enough will be recalled to render the general subject
intelligible to the reader, and enough added to show its
bearing upon the special art now to be considered.

An endeavor to ascertain the elements of representation
in sound suggests, at once, a reference to the art of elocu-
tion. This art has the power of producing through the
intonation of words, irrespective of their articulation, an
almost endless variety of effects ; and the argument is
logically irresistible that these effects are the same in kind
as those of music. What, then, are the elements of elocu-
tionary effects ? '■ A moment's consideration will cause
us to recognize that there are four of these. They can
all be perceived by emphasizing strongly the first syllables
of barbarous, murmuring, tartarize, Singsing, or papa ; or
by emphasizing a word like go in the sentence " I will go
if so." In giving the emphasis it will be noticed that the
emphatic syllables and the word^i? are made to differ from
that which accompanies them, first, in duration : they
are sounded in longer time ; second, in force : they are
sounded with more energy ; third, in pitch : they are

' The signification of the methods of elocutionary representation to which,
in this essay, those of music are correlated, may be found detailed in full
in the author's " Orator's Manual." This book, first issued in 1879,
has had an increasing sale — as seems to be the case with "Poetry as a
Representative Art " — every year since the date of its publication, and it is
not too much to say that, since that time, no other treatise of acknowledged
merit upon the subject has been produced in which, however much devel-
oped, the explanations then made for the first time have not been adopted
without virtual alteration.

252 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

sounded on a key which, if used in music, would be rela-
tively higher or lower in the musical scale ; fourth, in
quality : they are sounded with more fulness or thinness
of tone. Simply by increasing the degree in which any of
these elements enter into ordinary accentuation, we can
increase the degree of emphasis represented by them.

With reference to these four elements, it may be well to
notice, further, that duration is merely an external effect
of sound, while force, pitch, and quality are all essential to
the very formation of it ; different degrees of force, as we
learn from science, being determined by the relative size
of the vibrations causing the tone ; of pitch, by their rela-
tive rapidity ; and of quality by the relative size and
rapidity of those compounded together in order to pro-
duce any apparently single tone— almost every tone, as
science has ascertained, being a compound.

Now let us consider the significance of these elements.'
In elocution as in music they all represent emotive effects ;
but, at the same time, each represents a certain phase of
these effects. Moreover, in elocution each of these phases
is manifested in two ways, one of which may be termed
discoursive and the other dramatic. Discoursive elocu-
tion, generally termed that of emphasis, is developed from
instinctive methods of expression, and corresponds, in this
regard, to words formed from ejaculations. It is used
mainly in oratory. Dramatic elocution, generally termed
that of personation, is developed by the reflective powers
as a result of impressions received from without. Mimicry,
in some form, underlies all its effects ; for which reason,
it will be seen at once to correspond to words formed as a
result of imitation, and to be the phase of delivery used
mainly in dramatic acting.

' See note p. 251.

REPRESENTA TION THRO UGH MUSICAL D URA TJON. 253

Effects in this latter kind of elocution, of course, inter-
pret themselves. In discoursive elocution they need
further explanation. As used in this, however, it may be
said in general that they are based, in just as true a sense
as if they were more clearly imitative, upon the principle
of correspondence, in accordance with which it seems to be
instinctively felt, even when not consciously thought, that
different phases and movements of invisible and inaudible
mental moods have their analogues in different forms
and operations in the visible and audible world. In ful-
filment of this principle, it is recognized in ways that
will be explained presently that the element of duration
measures the utterance, indicating, in the degree in which
it is short or long, whether it is conceived to be of slight
or of great importance. This interpretation of the mean-
ing of duration, by the way, shows how appropriate the
art-term -metre or measure is as applied not only to form
but to thought, in all cases in which the form accurately
embodies the thought. Again it may be said, for reasons
that will be given hereafter, that force, in giving greater
or less loudness to utterance, energizes it ; that pitch, by
interpreting the motive, aims it ; and that quality, by
manifesting the kind of feeling, tempers it. Besides this,
it is well to notice that duration and force together are
essential to the effects of rhythm., and pitch and quality
together to those of tune ; rhythm resulting from the
measuring of time or movement by regularly recurring im-
pulses perceptible in the physical world, and tune from a
similar cause, detected only by scientific analysis, operat-
ing through vibrations upon our inner nervous and men-
tal organism.

These statements, however, are only preliminary. Let
us pass on to see how the principle of correspondence as

254 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

fulfilled, both in associative or discoursive, and in imita-
tive or dramatic, elocution can be made to apply to music ;
and first to the elements entering into rhythm, namely,
duration and force. Considering duration for a little
without reference to force, it is evident that, from noticing
the absolute or relative time of movements in what we
hear and see in nature, we can learn that of which, both
in words and deeds, a fast pace and a slow pace are in-
dicative ; and that we can infer from this that of which
rapid sounds and slow sounds are indicative. Through
the aid of this test, we find that rapidity is indicative, by
way of association, of moods that are joyous or mirthful;
or, as applied to special thoughts or feelings, of such as
seem deserving of only brief consideration because they
are light and trifling ; and, as applied to natural effects in-
fluencing such moods, that it is indicative, by way of com-
parison or imitation, of those actually exhibiting quick
■motion. Slowness, on the contrary, is indicative of grave
and serious moods ; of thoughts and feelings worthy of
long consideration, therefore, of dignity and importance ;
and of natural effects that exhibit a retarded motion.

What has been said hardly needs illustration. Every-
one can recall the general difference in rapidity between
ordinary dance-music as it is termed, and church music ;
or between a hornpipe and a hymn ; and he knows, too,
that this difference is determined by the fact that the for-
mer represent by way of association, joyous, mirthful,
light, trifling moods and that the latter represent the op-
posite. The same fact will be recognized almost as readily
to be true of movements designed to be representative
not so much of moods, i. c, of thoughts and feelings, as,
by way of comparison or imitation, of outward material
effects. To prove this, take some of the motives, as they

REPRESENTA TION THRO UGH MUSICAL D URA TION. 255

are termed, of the operas of Wagner, from whom, as not
only the most modern but the most prominent of repre-
sentative composers, it is appropriate that the most of our
illustrations with reference to this subject should be drawn.
Fortunately, too, these motives have been put into such
forms of notation and given such titles that no one need
hesitate in a treatise like this to point to them as authori-
tative. Without further acknowledgment, it is enough to
say that those that are to be used in the pages following,
are to be found, in the form in which they are presented
and with the titles assigned to them, either in the " Guide
through the Music of Richard Wagner's Ring of the
Nibelung " of Hans Von Wolzogen, or else in the " Wag-
ner's Tristan und Isolde " of Gustav Kobb6. Here, to
begin with, is (i) the " Motive of Loge," the spirit of flame,
taken from " The Rhinegold." Notice the appropriate-

No. I.

256 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

ness, not so much now of the alternating upward and
downward directions of pitch, to which reference will be
made hereafter, as of the rapid motion through which the
flickering and fluttering of the flame is represented.

Notice the equal appropriateness of the slow time given
to the " Motive of the Love of Death," in " Tristan und
Isolde": (2.).

a^i-H^,. J-N- a i^

g ^^^^HF

No. 2.

Passing on now to force, there is no difificulty in finding
what it too, represents, through observing the manifesta-
tions of it in nature. Great force, involving loudness of
tone, indicates, of course, great energy, either of body or of
mind ; as in expressions of earnestness, strength, self-as-
sertion, vehemence. Notice the music on page 272 in
Chapter III., numbered 28 and 29. For an analogous
reason, slight force involving softness of tone, indicates
the opposite, i. e., little energy, as in expressions of indif-
ference, weakness, gentleness, mildness. Notice the music
numbered 9 and 81. In addition to this, it follows, as a
matter of course, that great force represents that which
has a loud sound, or is so vast in size that its sound would
be loud if it produced any ; and that slight force represents
that which has a soft sound, or is so small that it would
have this if it produced any. Notice the music numbered
14 and 16.

The most important use of force in music, however, and
the same is true of duration, is in cases in which both of
these elements combine in order to produce effects of
rhythm; in cases, that is, in which neither duration nor

REPRESENTA TION THROUGH MUSICAL DURA TION. 25/

force is general or absolute but special or relative, differ-
ent notes that follow one another being distinguished by
different degrees of length and loudness. It is in rhythm,
too', that the representative features of both elements
become most apparent.

A full discussion of the different kinds of rhythm, or of
the significance of each kind of it, is not needed here. The
former subject is discussed in Chapters I. to VI. of
" Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music," and the
latter subject in Chapters IV. to VIII. of " Poetry as a
Representative Art." In this place, it suffices to say that
rhythm is produced by accenting — sometimes through
•duration alone, sometimes through force alone, but usually
through both in combination — certain tones separated
from one another by exactly the same intervals of time.
In music these accented tones, as a rule, begin measures.
They are the tones immediately following the perpendicu-
lar lines termed bars in the music below. In poetry, the
accents are sometimes at the ends, and sometimes in the
middles of the measures.

With reference to the significance of rhythm, it may
be said that when it is regular and strongly accented, like
the steady pace and tread of a vigorous man or of a file of
soldiers, it indicates conceptions like those of buoyancy
and exhilaration, as in the galop (3) :

fe^

#

p • -

^

p -0-

&.

^

^^

17

—m I —

-or

^^

Ah! Ah!

Ah!

s

^^

258 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

^^#

^

&*=ff

m

a

^^

^-^

E

^

Ah! Ah!

^

i

Ah!

^

No. 3.
— Tout a la Joie ; Phil. Fahrbach.

Of confidence and triumph, as in the Marseillaise Hymn^
(see music No. 28) or in the ordinary march (4) :

!5&

^

'iH^\ Hi i \ '^ .

^^^■-K ^"/-

f

^

T

xr

ff *^

ml-m f

1=^=1

^:

^:

T u T r

e

No. 4.
— Among Comrades March : Carl Faust.

Also of self-poise and dignity, as in the minuet (5) :

Andante. -_. =*

U.I

^M

S

^

^^

s:aB

-g^- r^^-

/

S

S

• * m — 1

r

HtTi rU-in'UU [ r

I i

No. 5.

-Minuet de la Cour : C. Coote.

REPRESENTA TION THRO UGH MUSICAL D URA TION. 259

When the rhythm is regular, but with the accent given at
somewhat unusual relative length or at unusual places, we
have the gliding, yielding, graceful effects exemplified in
the music in numbers 6, 7, and 8 :

^^^^

J4^B2^l ^

^^fe

g %

No. 6.
— Bel/a Bocca Polka : Emile Waldteufel.

a^rir .rf/^^

W^L

-*=s=

T 1:

^

2—^

m;

- g 1

g g

g g

^^

^

^

^

^

£

^3

-4:— £

g g

^=^

g g -

•p— •!*

^

l=i

■ p »

No. 7.
— C&'a'^ or Polacca Quadrilles : William Coleman,

Orasioso.

^F4-

1 u ^ =1-

^

:t^

-• E •

-=4-^^

^

M

^^^

1 j i=

^E^

26o

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

No. 8.
— Tres Jolie Waltz : Emile Waldteufel.

When the rhythm is not strongly marked, and is
greatly varied, it indicates conceptions like those of hesi-
tation and doubt, as in this passage (9) from Beetho-
ven's pianoforte "Sonata in E Minor," op. 90, which,
according to Gurney, in his " Power of Sound," " is said
to have been humorously connected with the indecision
in the mind of a certain noble lover whose passion for an
actress had been expressed in a preceding theme."

^

^

ff

m \ ^ .-w'^

^g

p

^B

=t

sempre.

S

*=£

dim.

=F^=

-^f-^-

BBF [^ -t 1

s

f>p

etc.

^

p. 1 1 U

=Se

No. 9.

REPRESENTA TION THROUGH MUSICAL DURA TION. 261

Greater and more abrupt changes of the same kind,
either in duration, or force, or in both, represent, of
course, greater degrees of similar emotions, until, when
carried to extremes, they suggest, like explosive sounds
in nature, the highest possibilities of disturbance, tur-
moil, and convulsion.

Rhythm that fulfils the principle of correspondence
in that it produces not merely associative, but also com-
parative and so distinctively imitative effects, are also not
uncommon. Notice the suggestion of hammering in the
" Forging Motive " of Wagner's " Rhinegold " (10) :

tu r rjrY-r?r=l

No. 10.

Also, in the same opera, the " Motive of the Flight "
which accompanies the descent to the earth of Freia, the
goddess of light and love (11) :

i=£i

I

^

w.

a

^^

No. II.

Which reminds us of the " Walkiiren Motive " or " Ride
Motive " in Wagner's " Walkiire," which also represents
flying, but in this case flying upward (12) :

No. 12.

262

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

In the " Rhinegold," again, we have the " Snake Motive "
represented both in the rhythm and in the movements of
pitch (13):

;^

1

%^

^

1=

-* ^

"^ff^

^

s

--^^

w^

-X*-

No. 13.

Also the " Motive of the Primeval Element," represent-
ing the gentle rippling of water as in a river (14) :

^^m

fef=#

^

&^^

^

TJljv^lfc

^

No. 14.

" In Venice," says Gardiner, in his " Music of Nature,"

"where the people are constantly moving upon the

water, the motion of the boat suggests the flowing ease

of triple time, in which all their celebrated airs and

barcarolles are written. A beautiful illustration of this

movement is to be found in Mr. Moore's words and

music:

" ' Row, brothers, row ; the stream runs fast ;
The rapids are near and the daylight past.' "

The first line of which is as follows :

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL DURATION. 263

1^

i

W-

Faint - ly as tolls the eve - ning chime, Our

^

*=

voi - ces keep tune and our

oars

keep time.

No. 15.

— Canadian Boat- Song : T. Moore,

Notice, finally, as distinctly representing both force and
movement, the " Motive of the Giants," from Wagner's
"Rhinegold," in which we are supposed to hear the tread
of their feet (16) :

g

n. i ^ .n. i

^^^

-^

M

^rii JifeJ.

J-3-J^i

s^

=p=^

?^

^^

No. 16.

CHAPTER III.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH, HIGH ANI>
LOW, UPWARD AND DOWNWARD.

Correspondences in the External World to High and Low Pitch — And to Up-
ward and Downward Directions of it — Further Explanations — As
Illustrated in Elocutionary Intonations — Gregorian Chants as Devel-
oped from Elocutionary Laws — Upward Movements in Musical Ques-
tions — In Anticipative Expectancy — Downward Movements in Effects
that are Conclusive — Affirmative and Positive — Combined Upward and
Dovmward Movements in Effects both Anticipative and Conclusive —
The Same Rendered Emphatic — Imitative Effects : Upward as in
Rising — Downward as in Sinking — In Both Directions.

TN accordance with the principle of correspondence the
conditions of pitch, high or low, or its movements in
directions upward or downward in the musical scale, seem
to be in exact analog.y with correlated conditions and
directions with which we are all familiar in the external
world of space about us ; and, like them, to indicate the
mental aim or motive. When, for instance, one is elated,
he holds his head high, and his movements are varied like
those of a buoyant schoolboy. When one is depressed,
his head bends downward and his movements are few. It
is the same with the utterances. A soaring bird sings in
a high and changing key, a crouching man threatens or a
dog growls in a low and monotonous key. High and
varied tones, therefore, seem to represent elation of spirit,
or that which is felt to be elevating in its influence ; and
low and uniform tones represent depression of spirit, or

264

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 265

that which is felt to be impressive. These statements
will be found sufficiently illustrated by comparing the ex-
hilarating music numbered 21, 22, 28, 29, 33, 40, 43, 45,
46, (i6, with that of an opposite character numbered 2, 10,
16, 17, 24, 30, 34, 51, 52, 56, and 63.

The same is true with reference to movements in the
directions of pitch. Its tendency, when two or more
tones are heard in succession, may be upward or down-
ward. When taking either direction, pitch follows laws
applicable to all movement. Men lift their bodies, limbs,
feet, when they start to do something. They let their
hands fall at their sides and sit down or lie down when
they get through with what they have to do. The lungs
rise in inspiration and fall in expiration. So with voices
in speaking. Their sounds rise when a man feels inspired
to begin to say something, e.g., " If s6, I will go." They
fall when the inspiration is over, because he is through
saying it, e.g., " If so, I will g6." In other words, to quote
from page 47 of " The Orator's Manual," written many
years ago, where ample illustrations of all the following
statements will be found : " Upward and downward move-
ments of pitch represent the mental motive. The voice
rises when one is moved to open, and falls when moved
to close, the expression of an idea. It must be borne in
mind, however, that these directions of pitch depend upon
the relations of utterance to the sense, and not merely to
the sentence. If the sense does not close or open where
the sentence does, the tones may fall before its close and
rise at its end, e.g., ' I will g6, if s6,' ' Will you gd ? '
' N6, I w6nt, if he 's th^re.' "

We may extend, and, at the same time, explain this by
saying that the voice rises for the purpose of opening or
broaching an idea ; that is to say, for the purpose of

266 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

pointing away from the thought immediately expressed,
e.g., when one is inclined to consider the words uttered as
merely anticipative or indecisive, in the sense of being in
themselves subordinate, insignificant, trite, negative, or
questionable, as contrasted with something that is ex-
pected to be, or that has been, expressed by the falling
inflection. On the contrary, the voice falls for the pur-
pose of closing or completing an idea ; that is to say, for
the purpose of pointing to the thought immediately ex-
pressed, e.g., when one is inclined to consider the words
tittered as final or decisive, in the sense of being in them-
selves interesting, important, noteworthy, affirmative, or
positive. It falls whenever it gives its sentence in the
sense either of having completed the expression of a sen-
timent or of having uttered something sententiously.

In order to recognize the degree in which, even in
speech, intelligence of the motives that are directing the
thoughts or feelings may be conveyed by methods other
than by the mere articulations which cause the sounds to
be words, notice, in the following examples, how the same
phraseology may be made to convey entirely different
meanings. Here the upward inflections, as given on the
opening clauses, indicate anticipation, or the fact that
what is expressed in them is subordinate and insignifi-
cant, as compared to what is expressed in the concluding
clauses :

The gay will laugh
When thou art g6ne ; the solemn brood of care
Plod on, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall Uave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come
And make their bed with thJe.

But here the downward inflections, as given on precisely

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 26j

the same opening clauses, indicate conclusiveness, or the
fact that what is expressed in them is interesting, impor-
tant, and noteworthy, entirely aside from that which is
expressed in the concluding clauses.

The gay will laugh
When thou art g6ne ; the solemn brood of care
Plod 6n, and each one as before will chase
His favorite phantom ; yet all these shall l^ave
Their mirth and their employments, and shall come,
And make their bed with th^e.

Notice also the following : " We all know his w6rd is a
little uncertain," indicates the trite, the well known.
" We all know his w6rd is a little uncertain," indicates
the noteworthy, the important. "There is a pith through
the wdods hdre," indicates indecision in view of the doubt-
ful. " There is a pkth through the w6ods hfere," indicates
■decision in view of what is not considered doubtful. " It
miist be so," indicates the questionable ; " It must be so,"
indicates positive assurance. " He declaims very w^U,"
gives questionable praise to the mediocre ; " He declaims
very wfell, ' positively commends the excellent. " John
has returned hdme," questions the action, and produces
the effect of disapprobation ; " John has returned h6me,"
expresses decisive approbation.

That similar principles apply to the movements of pitch
in the melody of music, we might infer as a result of con-
sidering the subject theoretically. But we can not only
infer it but perceive it as a result of a practical study of
facts. Notice the following text, (17) which was connected
with the notation of the Gregorian chants, written in the
sixth century. Whether Pope Gregory (a.D. 590-604)
originated these methods, or derived them from Pope Syl-

268

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

m^

Sic can -ta. com-ma,
Thus sing the com-ma,

sic du - o punc-ta: sic ve - ro punctum.
and thus the co - Ion : and thus the full stop.

1 ? P ? ? ? ? f i P *"

i^- r r F- 1 r f —

Sic signum in - ter
Thus sing the mark of

ro - ga - ti - o - nis.
in - ter - ro - ga-tion.

No. 17.

vester (a.d. 314-335), as is sometimes said, or from St.
Ambrose (a.D. 341-39S), or whether all of these derived
them from the ancient Romans or the Greeks, it is now
acknowledged that, historically, all our modern European
systems of melody, and, through them, of harmony have
grown out of these chants, or at least have come down to
us through them. Could a stronger proof be afforded
that music is a development of that which in its incipiency
is representative? These chants to which, or through
which, all modern music is traceable, were deliberately
composed in order to be this, and nothing else.

The representative character of the movements of musi-
cal pitch is wellnigh equally manifested in modern melodies.
Except where the significance of these depends upon their
connection with harmony, which, as will be shown pres-
ently, introduces another principle, it will be found that
almost always in the degree in which they commend
themselves to general taste to such an extent as to con-
tinue to preserve their popularity, in that degree they
parallel the movements natural to the speaking utter-
ance of the sentiments to which they give expression.
Notice, for example, how distinctly the theme of the fol-
lowing asks a question :

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 269

i

fc^

-K-N-

e

w^

^^

^— A-

^

ifczt

-K-4

■&-i^

-# — •-=-

If a bo-dy meet a l)o-dy, Com-in' thro' the rye,

i^ TTT ^ x i ^ ^ ri / ;■ .[>".1T^

It a bo-dy kiss a bo-dy, Need a bo-dy cry ?

No. 18.

— Comin' thro' the Rye : Scotch Melody.

So, too, how both melody and harmony unite in order to
produce this same effect in the " Motive of the Question
to Fate," in Wagner's " Walkiire " (19) :

Wti

4^

g

X

=i^

g£

No. ig.

Notice, again, how distinctly the motive in Wagner's
" Gotterdammerung," termed the " Wedding Call," ex-
presses anticipation, and, in this case, in the absence of
any minor tendency, joyous anticipation (20) :

4

-±

^^W

No. 20.

Again, notice how both harmony and melody join to
emphasize anticipation carried to a pass of exuberant ex-
pectancy in the cry of Brunhilde, in the same opera, as
waking from her sleep of ages she greets the world once
more (21) :

270

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

No. 21.

In the " Walkiire " precisely the same feeling is conveyed
by the " Motive of Siegfried the Walsung," himself the
representative of anticipative, buoyant, hopeful, enthusi-
astic youth (22).

"m r • if r "T'l I "T' ;

^^

■F-f ^ | i^f-rf , y- , ^r^r^

\

No. 22.

In contrast to these, notice the conclusive effect of the
downward movement in what is called the " Slumber
Motive," suggesting rest from labor, in the " Walkure "
(23):

W

^^

-l-etc.

No. 23.

Also, in the same opera, the more afifirmatively and posi-
tively conclusive effects of the " Motive of Renunciation "
(24):

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 27 1

^

No. 24.
And of " Godly Wrath " (25) :

^

*

F-f J- g fN J 3

-etc.

No. 25.

In most music, as in most speech, we have both antici-
pative upward movements and also conclusive downward
ones. Here are both in a comparatively mild form :

^j^ si Tii' J^ ^

JTjy g — ? \ J 1

m

5

-«■

'Mid pleasures and pal - ac es, Tho' oft we may roam,

^=

^

5r-N.

li-d^-»- -•

-N--N.

Be it ev - er so hum - ble. There's no place like home.

No. 26.

— Home, S'un'el Home : jf. H. Payne.

I

fe-4-.»-H*-— F?

* — •-

IJ^£

=P=t

t=^

-e-^r

=t±t

Tho Freedom now so seldom wakes ; The on-ly throb she gives

i

-•— i»

"m

w^

T:

*=

Is when some heart indignant breaks To show that still she lives.

No. 27.
— - The Harp thai once through Tara^s Halls . T, Moore.

272 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

Here are both in a very emphatic form :

^gP

rte^

OP^

n-^nr^

y 1-w

^

1=*=

To arms! to arms! ye brave! The pa - triot sword nnsheath;

^

Itf3=

^

ze:

^

^

March on, march on, all hearts resolved On lib er-ty or death.

No. 28.

— Marseillaise Hymn : Rouget de Lille.

And in the peculiar combination in the following of both
upward and downward movements, anticipation seems to
be represented as certain of positive realization ; the Eng-
lish translation of the words set to the first line being,
" Look how the rays of the sun streaming bright shed its
radiance around, let 's be up and doing."

i

i

^^^

^5^

^

ifcztezz^

F^

1 I *l" t; j^ j ^=g ^11* •\- • *

-5-^

tf ^r^-5Xl

- C • B. i

-etc

No. 29.
— Anvil Chorus, II Trovatore : J'erdi.

As illustrations of upward and downward directions of
pitch, representative, in the sense of fulfilling the princi-
ple of correspondence in such a way as to be distinctly
imitative of outward natural effects, notice in Wagner's

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 273

" Rhinegold," the " Motive of the Rising Treasure," the title
of which should sufficiently explain its significance (30) :

Wi

^

12^=5

t

-•^

a J ^

:S

No. 30.

3^

5 ^
3 ^

Also, in the same opera, in the " Motive of the Nornes,"
the representation of Erda, the mother of earth, as, with
her daughters, the Nornes, she comes up from below(3i):

I^S

m

No. 31.

and then the " Motive of the Gotterdammerung," which
represents her as she sinks downward again (32) :

^^E

^

t

-Q*-

m

No. 32.

Notice, also, further on in the same opera, the upward and
downward representation in the " Rainbow Motive " (33) :

^ ^^

^

^

Si

No. 33.

CHAPTER IV.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH : COMBINED
WAVE-MOVEMENTS.

The Meaning of the Elocutionary Circumflex or Wave-Movements — Further
Explanations — How these Conditions are Paralleled in Music — Illustra-
tions of Inconclusive Uncertainty — Ending vfith Positive and Decisive
Effects — Of Anticipation Ending with Finality — Of the Indecisive
ending with the Decisive — Of Hope, ending with Doubt — Of Irony,
Mockery — Other Illustrations.

"DESIDES the simple upward and downward directions
of pitch, there are cases in elocution in which, on a
single emphatic word, the tones are made to move in both
directions. The result gives us what is termed the cir-
cumflex inflection, or wave. Its representative effect, of
course, is to indicate a combination of the motives natu-
rally expressed by a movement in each of these directions.
In other words, it points both away from an idea or feel-
ing expressed as important on account of its relation to
something else, and it also points io the same idea or feel-
ing as important in itself. We find this inflection, some-
times, in consecutive discourse, as in the following, where
the speaker, in uttering the word independctice, is thinking
of its results, and of pointing away to them, as well as of
itself and of pointing to it :

Set before them the glorious object of entire independence, and it will
breathe into them aniw the breath of life.

For a similar reason, to indicate that a word is used

274

REPRESENTATION THROU.GH MUSICAL PITCH. 275

largely on account of its suggestions of other things, we
find the same inflection in cases of comparison, as in " He
is the Gladstone of America " ; and also in cases of
contrast, as in " I did not speak of fSeling, but of wtll."
Once more, we find it used very strongly in cases of double
entendre or equivocacy, involving innuendo, sarcasm,
satire, mockery, irony, in which it is necessary to point
away from the whole phraseology to a meaning that is not
in it, but can be put into it by the intonations, as e.g., in
" Oh, h^ is an hdnest man, h6 Is ! "

To understand the whole influence of this circumflex
inflection, it needs to be added also that the direction,
whether upward or downward, which is most strongly
emphasized in it — which, in speech, is the direction with
which it concludes — is that which indicates the predomi-
nating motive. If the conclusion be in the upward direc-
tion, the predominating motive is that which suggests
the anticipative, indecisive, subordinate, insignificant,
trite, negative, or questionable ; and if it be in the down-
ward direction it suggests the conclusive, decisive, or in
itself interesting, important, noteworthy, positive, or
affirmative. Both statements may be illustrated suf-
ficiently in the sentence, " I did not speak of feeling, but
of will."

Now notice how exactly these conditions are paralleled
in music. First of all, glancing back at that numbered
29, it will be observed that in connection with the down-
ward directions in the first four bars, the general move-
ment, as emphasized in each of the longer notes, is
upward. In this case, recalling that the downward
movements are positive and decisive while the upward are
anticipative and indecisive, we shall perceive why it is that
in the predominance of the latter, the movement, as a

276

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

whole, has the effect of positive and decisive anticipation.
So, too, in the " Motive of Loge," No. i, we can perceive
why it is that in connection with the alternating down-
ward and upward directions, the predominance of the
latter should represent not only the positive and decisive
nature of the flame, but also, on the whole, its generally
anticipative and therefore — inasmuch as, in itself, it is
evil — threatening character. Here, again, in the " Motive
of Growing Twilight," in Wagner's " Rhinegold " (34), we
have these alternating directions, concluding with the
downward movement ; indicating, therefore, the incon-
clusive uncertainty of the change, ending, nevertheless,
with conclusive certainty.

g

^UgJ!M=^ ^

^

^

^

r

■>*

=&

n^

^

-etc.

rrr-

No. 34.

So, too, in the " Motive of the God's Trouble," in the
" Walkure," we can perceive the influence of the two ten-
dencies ending, as only, perhaps, would be possible in the
experience of a god, with that which makes the positive
and decisive predominate (35).

No. 35.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 2'J'J

In the same opera we have, too, " The Motive of Pursuit,"
which, beginning with alternating movements that have
more of anticipation than of finahty in them, mounts up-
ward, and then ends with more in them of finality (36) :

m

i:

^1=

-:-^^-y -^^

^^

BB

rlt

>-

m

fet

Wz

i

^

w

^1S=

=iit^

No. 36.

In Fricka's coaxing song in Wagner's " Rhinegold,"
called the " Motive of Love's Fascination," which might
better be called " of Coquetry," we can perceive the same
alternation of the anticipative and indecisive with the
conclusive and decisive, but, at the same time, with much
more evidence of the predominance of the latter (37) :

i

^^5J^^

^

=?Ep:S

±=t:

^

No. 37.

The same can be affirmed of the alternating hope and
doubt expressed in the " Motive of the Love of Life" in
the same author's " Siegfried " (38) :

It has been said that the circumflex inflection or wave,
pointing to and also away from a word, indicates not
only a double reference, as in the case of an expression

278

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTA TIVE ART.

^

^g

f=r^^^^

-etc.

No. 3S.

embodying a comparison or a contrast, but also sarcasm,
innuendo, irony, in that it clearly insinuates a meaning
not at all indicated by the words aside from the in-
tonations. Observe now how exactly the intonations
appropriate for these suggestions are reproduced in
Wagner's " Gotterdammerung " in what are called the
" Motive of the Shout of the Fairies," No. 39, and of the
" Fairies' Mockery," No. 40 :

I*- P

r -V ciJ- J^^c^

^m

w

6.

No, 40.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL PITCH. 279

Distinctively imitative methods based upon these
arrangements of pitch can be recognized sufficiently by
noticing again the upward and downward flickerings of
the flame in the " Loge Motive," No. i, the indecision
indicated in the passage from Beethoven, No. 9, the
"Snake Motive," No. 13, and the "Water Motive," No.
14 ; as also by the phrases imitating the utterances of
birds, hens, dogs, asses, and of men, when yawning, sneez-
ing, and coughing, as illustrated in Chapter VIII.

CHAPTER V.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH BLENDING OF PITCH AS IN
MUSICAL HARMONY.

Elocutionary Use of Pitch, when Indicative of Suspense — Blending of
Harmonic and Inharmonic Intervals of Pitch, as Analogous to Effects
of Quality — Meanings in Speech of the Major and the Minor Interval
— Their Meanings in Music — Further Explanations — The Subdomi-
nant, Dominant, and Tonic — Complete and Incomplete Cadence —
Explanations of their Effects — Meanings of Upward and Do^vnward
Elocutionary Harmonic Cadences — Illustrations of the Satisfying Effects
of Upward Musical Major Cadences — Unsatisfjring Effects of Upward
Minor Musical Cadences — Satisfying Effects of Downward Major
Cadences — Unsatisfactory Effects of Downward Minor Cadences — Wag-
ner's Use of Upward Anticipative Movement Followed by Downward
Minor Cadences.

'T'HERE is still another form of elocutionary emphasis
imparted by pitch, of which no mention was made
in the last chapter. The voice may not only rise, fall,
and do both, but it may also do neither. It is seldom,
when there is emphasis, that there is absolutely no
change in pitch. Where a word contains two syllables,
one of them accented, it is impossible that there should be
none. But the change in pitch may be so slight as to
suggest unmistakably neither that which is upward nor
that which is downward. When this is so, the effect is
evidently one of mere suspense, as in uttering the words :

" To die — to sleep — to sleep ! Perchance to dream.''

— Hamlety III., i . Shjkespcarc.
280

REPRESENTA TION THROUGH BLENDING OF PITCH. 28 1

The applications and developments of this form of in-
flection, both in elocution and in music, but especially in
the latter, are very important. So far as the tone is not
absolutely upon one pitch, which, as v^^e said, is seldom
the case, that which is representative in the expression,
aside from the fact of its moving upward or downward,
is determined by the intervals of pitch separating the be-
ginning and the end of the inflection. In uttering the
final words of the sentences, " I will go " or " I am going,"
the voice, on the single syllable " go " or on the two syl-
lables " going," glides from one tone to another so rapidly
that the two tones have the same general effect that they
would have, were they uttered simultaneously. If, there-
fore, the two tones be separated by what is recognized to
be an harmonic interval of the musical scale, they together
produce harmony ; if not, they produce discord.

Harmony and discord, as thus produced by the blend-
ing together of two tones, have an effect analogous to
that of quality in a single tone, which also is produced by
the blending together of certain partial tones of which it
is composed. (See Chapter XIV. of " Rhythm and Har-
mony in Poetry and Music") For this reason, the harmony
or the discord caused by the relative intervals of pitch
separating the beginning and the end of an inflection, do
not express, as pitch does, the motive or aim of the utter-
ance, but rather, as quality does, the emotive nature of
the mood behind the utterance. (See page 171.)

As represented in sound, it may be said that every
mood that is absolutely normal, because healthful, strong,
buoyant, joyous, or unimpeded, or, to state this in a gen-
eral way, every mood in which the conditions appear to
the mind to be satisfactory, naturally tends to harmonic
expression. On the contrary, every abnormal, unhealthy.

282 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

because weak, depressed, sad, or impeded mood, or every
mood in which the conditions appear to the mind to be
unsatisfactory, because leaving conceptions in a state of
suspense, naturally tends to inharmonic expression. This
latter is what we hear, therefore, in the moaning and
crying of weakness, in the fretting and complaining of
hopelessness and misery, and in any habits of tone, like
the so-called " ministerial," which are produced by dwel-
ling upon the more pathetic aspects of subjects. The im-
pression conveyed, in all these cases, is that thought and
feeling are waiting for a desired consummation that delays
coming.

As represented in music, this inharmonic effect is
expressed in what is termed the minor interval (see
" Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music," page
225), which, while itself not absolutely inharmonic — if it
were so it could not be used as a factor of musical har-
mony, — is, nevertheless, suggestive of a lack of harmony ;
and it is this fact that accounts for the associations that
all have with this interval. It is the musical adapta-
tion of that which, in speech, represents suspense, and,
therefore, the depressed and pathetic. There are other
conditions, too, that distinguish the minor cadence as
used in speech and in music. In the latter, it is not
always determined by the pitch-relations to one another of
two or more final notes of a melodic phrase, but, instead
of this, by the harmonic relations to one another of the
chords into the effects of which, according to the laws of
the key in which the melody is arranged, the last two or
more notes of a melodic phrase enter. Even where the
harmony does not actually accompany the melody, the
ear, owing largely to association, seems to recognize the
relationship to these chords of the tones of the melody.

REPRESENTA TION THROUGH BLENDING OF PITCH. 283

With reference to what this relationship is, so far as it
can be explained without going into a discussion of the
origin of musical scales and chords (see " Rhythm and
Harmony in Poetry and Music," Chapters XIV. and
XV.), it may be said that in music the satisfying effects
corresponding to those of the harmonic cadence are con-
veyed by series of chords that resolve, as is said, into the
major chord of that which, for the time being, is the
keynote.

This statement may be made more clear to those not
musicians by saying that in any given scale represented by
the syllables do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, and do, the do is the
keynote, and that the notes represented by do, mi, and
sol are those comprising the major or principal chord of
the keynote. In hearing the scale sung, we become
accustomed to expect it to end after, in ascending it,
we have heard si, and after, in descending it, we have
heard re. Any chord, therefore, that brings in si or re,
especially if either be made prominent, has a tendency to
suggest that the phrase composed of the series of chprds
being sounded is about to be brought to a close. It so
happens that both si and re are in the major or principal
chord based upon sol. For this reason, in order to produce
a thoroughly satisfying closing effect in harmony, this
major chord based upon sol, which is called that of the
dominant, must precede the chord based upon do, which
is called the chord of the tonic. Moveover, when pro-
ducing a complete harmonic musical cadence, a fourth
note, in addition to the three notes constituting the major
chord of the dominant, is often used, making the whole
chord — naming the notes according to those in the scale
of the keynote — sol, si, re, and fa. This forms the chord
of the seventh, as explained on page 218 of "Rhythm

284 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

and Harmony in Poetry and Music." The reason for
introducing this fourth note is because it is not in the
highest sense, or perfectly, harmonious with the rest of the
same chord — i. e., with the combination made up of sol, si,
and re. Its effect, therefore, is to cause the chord as a whole
to seem slightly discordant. But that for which, when
listening to a series of chords, the musical ear is in search,
is harmony. Whenever, therefore, it does not hear this,
it is forced, by a law of nature, to desire to have the move-
ments of the chords continue till the perfectly harmonious
is reached. For this reason, the chord of the seventh
augments the feeling of unrest and dissatisfaction, and
prepares the mind, by v/ay of contrast, for the restful,
satisfying closing effect of the major chord of the key-
note when, at the next sound, the phrase is brought to a
conclusion.

Still more to augment the same series of effects, the
series of chords used in the harmonic cadence, when it
is absolutely complete, starts with the chord of the sub-
dominant, as it is called — i. c, the major chord of the note
represented by fa in the scale of the keynote. This
chord sounds fa, la, and do. It is followed by the chord
of the dominant or the seventh, sol, si, re, fa, and this, in
turn, by the chord of the tonic, do, mi, sol. In the key
of C major, these chords in succession would be repre-
sented thus:

$

zsz

=5^

F

Do Re Mi Fa Sol La Si Do

m

zsz

Sub-dominant. Dominant. Tonic. olT^ n rv r. ni-r^

Appropriate Baas— Do Sol Do Fa Do Fa Sol Do

No. 41.

JiEPRESENTA TION THROUGH BLENDING OF PITCH. 285

Notice, now, that the three chords together sound
■every note of the scale. They are comprehensive, there-
fore, of all the effects possible to it ; and, whenever thus
sounded in succession, they not only comprehend these
effects, but, in a peculiar way, blend and summarize them
so as to produce a cumulative climax.

On the contrary, in the degree in which these three
chords, in the order indicated, are lacking, in that degree
is the cadence incomplete. Of course, it is most incom-
plete, or rather it is most distant from being, in any sense,
a climax, when the concluding chord itself is that of the
seventh, or one that suggests the combinations entering
into this. Nothing, except the still more discordant
chord of the ninth, which is used occasionally, can pos-
sibly be so representative of that which leaves the mind
unsatisfied, because in complete suspense. Even when,
in other respects, the whole
cadence is complete, but the
final chord is minor instead of
major, the effect is still of a
nature fitted to convey this
impression. Notice 42.

r ~i. ^j ^-v.

F G

w.

The scientific reason for this Sub-dominant. Dominant. Tonic.

effect is undoubtedly the fact, ^°- 42-

which will be found explained in Chapter XV. of
" Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and Music," that the
notes of the major chord are the same as the most
prominent partial tones which can be detected by reso-
nators as actually entering into the composition of its
fundamental bass note ; whereas, the note that changes
this chord to a minor is only a partial tone of one partial
tone of this bass. The major, therefore, is the only chord
expressive of absolute unity or, what is the same thing,
of absolute harmony as applied to musical relations.

286

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

In elocution, the harmonic cadence in connection with
the upward inflection represents hopeful and joyous, be-
cause absolutely satisfactory anticipation, or, as the case
may be, indecision, subordination, insignificance, trite-
ness, negation, or questionableness ; and, on the other
hand, the inharmonic upward cadence represents antici-
pation in suspence, insolvable indecision, despairing sub-
ordination or insignificance, negation with no prospect of
affirmation, questioning with no expectation of response.
According to the same analogy, the hartnonic downward
cadence represents conclusiveness, decision, interest, im-
portance, affirmation, positiveness of the most satisfactory
character possible ; and the inharmonic cadence represents
the same, but of a character the most unsatisfactory .

The same principles will be found to apply to the com-
plete cadence in musical harmony. Notice the suggestion
of satisfaction in the upward melody of what is called the
" Motive of the Rhine-
gold," in Wagner's

^

^^

opera

of that name (43) : And

the same suggestion, joined No. 43.

with a slight hint of something more to come, because not

ending on the keynote, in the " Sword Motive " (44) :

Also in the rich succes-
sion of chords, no one
of which needs to be re-
solved, in the " Motive

^

m

No. 44.
of Walhall," in the same opera (45) :

fer

m

^

m

n.

As well as in

No. 45.
the F major in the following (46) :

3

3"Alberich's Tri-
umphal Cr}-," re-
solving itself into

SEPRESENTA TION THROUGH BLENDING OF PITCH. 28/

i

iU-$,&-%.

^^^^^^^^m

^

No. 46.

On the contrary, notice now the unsatisfactory effect,-
because of the future danger
suggested — in what is called
the " Motive of Menace (47)
as uttered by Alberich in the
same opera. Even the " Mo-
tive of the Sword's Guardian" (48), in the " Walkiire," is
not wholly satisfactory, in the sense that it suggests more
to come :

No. 47.

P = ^

^

a

No. 48.
" Walhall Motive " (49) :

And the same

is true of the

3 blended effect in

^ " Siegfried," of

this and the

No. 49.

With the effect of the complete harmonic cadence in con-
nection with the downward

movement we are so fa-
miliar that it hardly needs
illustrating. Here is an in-
stance of it as applied to
both melody and harmony

(50):

Here is one of Wagner's

^

w

^

-s>-

i^

^

No. 50.

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

downward melodies, suggesting a wholly unsatisfactory
conclusion. It is the " Motive of the Right of Expia-
tion," in the " Gotterdammerung " (51) :

-P--

^

=8^^

4^

^=^^

^

e,

e±

-W-

^

Bricht ein Bru - der den Bund, triigt den Treu - en der Freund.
No. 51.
And here is the same effect ^^^^^^

in harmony in the " Motive ^ T .-J- Jv. 4^ ^^
of the Vindictive League," p 3 " ri ^^ ;• '

in the same opera (52) :
Also in the melody of the
" Motive of Murder " (53) :

r-

f

m

tr

No. 52.

Another similar

,,_ t- YT ^^^^P-^"L. . s. ■ ^^^^' '^ apparent

=^^ 1 I J. .ij I ^"1 f in the " Motive

'■ " of Thoughtful-

^''- 53 ness," represent-

ing the crafty and anxious
thought of Alberich in the
" Rhinegold " (54) :
And in this " Motive of Sieg- ^'o. 54.

fried, the Guardian of the World's Welfare " (55), the
end is suggestively unsatisfactory in the sense of indicating
more that needs to be achieved :

ds&

^T^

^^

fcs

^

J:

^

^

it3^

1^

^

:£

i.,t^Z

rr-

^=f

e

No. 55.

JREPRESENTA TION THROUGH BLENDING OF PITCH. 289

Wagner seems to be exceedingly fond of ending an up-
ward movement that is expressive, as all such movements
are, of anticipation, indecision, or questioning, with a
downward movement, containing a minor cadence, or, as
often, an unresolved seventh. This downward move-
ment, inasmuch as it is supposed to contain the conclu-
sion or answer to the upward movement (see music
numbered 26, 27, 28, 29, on pages 271-2), suggests, in such
•cases, that there is no satisfactory conclusion, decision,
or answer to the feeling em-
bodied in the preceding up-

=Jfi*=^

i£

!►

-^Lftt

=t

^

^^

s=Wl

ward movement. Hence, the
arrangement of tones repre-
sents the extreme of disap- ^°- 5^-
pointment. Here is an instance of this effect in the
" Motive of Tristan " in "Tristan und Isolde " (56). And
here is the expression of Sieglinde's compassionate yearn-
ing for Siegfried in the " Walkiire " (57).

iii^H^:

No. 57.

This is what, in the same opera, is a symbol of the " Wal-
.sungen Family in its Love and Pain " (58) :

m

T * g I f> -

^

^^

^=^=1

iSt

No. 58.

And this of the heroism of the same family in suffer-
ing (59) :

290 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

-]g- -P-- ■*-

fe^ ^--.'m'' ^

&

e

:«=s

«r=^

i^

J ^ I J^-w^^tH-bJ

=SF^

bg. ' b^

-j^- ' > p ' .p Pg-

-£K-

No. 59.

And here is the " Phrase of Nothung," in the " Gotter-
dammerung " (60) :

i

^m^

r^=o

M

Nothung! tx. Neidliches schwertf

No. 60.

CHAPTER VI.

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL QUALITY.

How Musical Quality is Determined — How Determined in the Human
Voice — What Different Qualities of the Voice Represent — Their Cor-
respondences in Nature — Analogies between Quality as Used in Elocu-
tion and in Music — Representation by Way of Association through the
Use of Different Musical Instruments — The Same Continued — Repre-
sentation through these by Way of Imitation — Other Examples,

QUALITY, timbre, or, as it is sometimes called on
account of that to which it corresponds in painting,
tone-color, is determined by the elements of which a tone
is compounded. This is not the place in which to detail
the various experiments through which this fact has been
ascertained. It will suffice to say that, among other
methods, through the use of resonators so constructed as
to enable one to detect the presence in a tone of any par-
ticular pitch, it has been fully proved that when a string
like that of a bass viol is struck, it produces a note — say
that of the bass C — representing a sound-wave caused by
the whole length of the string. This C is the main, or as
it is termed, the prime tone that we hear. But, at the
same time, this same string usually divides at the middle,
producing what is called a partial tone of the C above the
bass, caused by a wave one half the length of the string.
It often produces, too, partial tones of the G above this,
of the C above this, and of the E above this, caused re-
spectively by sound-waves of one third, one fourth, and

2gi

292

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

one fifth of the length of the string. The tones of this
character which, in different instruments, have been de-
tected as entering into the composition of C, F, and G,
are as follows, those nearest the bass being heard, of course,
much the more prominently and commonly. This music
is taken from page 248 of " The Genesis of Art-Form."

i

c' e'

,- g'bb'«

,,d"e"

tm

f a' c e!^' ff °1'

:^=P:

b=fc

^

f=

^

f

W

c

-S^-

c

Partial tones of 0.

g' b' d' f S'

"b"

^

Id

-tS>-

G

e£

OfG.

F

O/F.

It is the presence of
partial tones of such pitch
as to form harmonics with
the prime tone, that causes
a sound to be musical;
and it is the prominence
of different partial tones
in notes differently pro-
duced that causes these

No. 61.
notes to differ in quality.

In human utterance, the possible varieties of quality are
determined by the relative proportions in which noise
and music — sometimes, as we might say, breath and vocal-
ization — are combined as a result of natural or assumed
shapes or actions of the vocal organs and passages. What
different kinds of quality thus produced are fitted to
represent, it needs but little observation to discover. It

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL QUALITY. 293

certainly is not, as in the case of force, physical energy.
When Patti passes from a loud to a soft, or from an
abrupt to a smooth tone, she changes greatly the kind of
energy, but her voice still retains the same Patti-quality.
Nor does quality represent mere intellectuality. A man,
without changing in the least an habitual nasal or wheez-
ing quality, may give every inflection needed in order to
represent the merely mental phases of the motive that
actuates him. But if we frighten him severely, we may
make it impossible for him to use any other sound than
a whisper ; if, in connection with this, we anger him, he
will hiss ; or, if at length he recover his voice, he will use
the harsh, jarring, interrupted hard-^ quality of tone,
termed the guttural ; or, if that which he would repel be
too great to make anger appropriate, it may widen and
stiffen his throat so as to produce the hollow, almost in-
articulate indication of awe and horror given by what is
termed the pectoral quality. Release him now from the
influence of fright, anger, or horror, and put him into a
gently satisfied mood, and he will use his nearest approach
to pure quality. Stir him then to profound emotion,
inspired by what is deeply satisfying, and all his vocal
passages will expand again, and he will produce his
nearest approach to the full, round, resonant quality
termed orotund.

For these reasons, it seems indisputable that, as applied
to vocal expression, quality represents feeling, temper,
the spiritual condition of the higher emotive nature. This
feeling, on its physical side and with its most physical
coloring, gives us, first, the serpent-like hissing aspirate ;
next, with an intellectual coloring, the guttural quality ;
and last, with an emotional coloring, the pectoral. On its
intellectual side, it gives us, first, with a physical coloring.

294 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

the soft whispering aspirate; next, with an intellectual
coloring, the pure quality; and last, with an emotional
coloring, the orotund. Of these six forms of quality, the
first four are classed in a general way as impure, because
there is in them more breath or noise than vocal tone or
music ; and the last two are classed as pure. The first
three again refer to what one wishes to repel ; the hissing
aspirate indicating feelings like affright, amazement, itt-
dignation and contempt ; the guttural, as has been said,
hostility ; the pectoral, awe or horror. The last three
refer to what, if not wholly satisfactory, at least, excites
in one no movement aimed against it. The soft whisper
indicates feelings like surprise, interest, or solicitude ; the
tone termed distinctively the pure, represents gentle con-
templation of what may be either joyous or sad ; and the
orotund, deep delight, admiration, courage, or deter-
mination, as inspired by contemplation of the noble or
grand.

As in the cases of duration, force, and pitch, so all these
forms of quality, too, have their correspondences in effects
of nature as manifested in other departments. Applied
to effects of water, for instance, a rushing stream would
represent the harsh aspirate, a rocky stream the guttural,
a roiled stream the pectoral, a rippling stream the gentle
aspirate, a clear stream the pure, and a full, deep stream
the orotund.

That analogies exist between quality as used in elocu-
tion and in music, scarcely needs to be argued. As
produced by the human voice, there can be no radical
differences between possibilities in speaking and in sing-
ing ; and, as produced by constructed musical instruments,
it is inevitable that the mind should associate with each
certain representative features, and should determine them

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL QUALITY. 295

by the resemblance, or supposed resemblance, of their
artificial tones to the quality of some tone natural to the
human voice, or else produced in some other way in nature.
In determining these resemblances, too, one would be
influenced, of course, by the uses which as a rule, are
made of the particular instruments which he is hearing.
It is undoubtedly owing to associations of this kind that
we read of the stirring tones of the fife and drum, the
solemn tones of the organ, the purity and softness of the
flute, the gayety and triumph of the'trumpet, the woe and
complaint of the bassoon, the pathos and humaneness of
the violin.

These differences between the representative qualities
of different musical instruments depend partly upon what
their sounds are in themselves, and partly upon the way
in which they are produced — a violin, for instance, being
played sometimes with a bow and sometimes with the
finger. But that the differences exist, and that they are
representative, is almost universally recognized by both
composers and audiences. When, for instance, in listen-
ing to an opera, we hear predominantly the clash of the
cymbals or rattle of the kettle-drums, associated, as these
usually are, with the sharper tones of the metallic instru-
ments, we know that the sounds, as in the last act of
Mozart's " Don Juan," where hell is supposed to await
the hero, represent, according to the degrees of their in-
tensity, not only the startling, but the hostile and mena-
cing effects which, in the human voice, we associate with
guttural quality. If any action of the play is to follow
what we hear, we expect to see some violent conflict full
of malignity and peril. When the predominating sounds
are those of the bass drums and the lower, more hollow
tones of either the wind or the stringed instruments, we

296

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

know that, as in the orchestration which in Wagner's
" Siegfried " accompanies the hero's encounter with the
dragon, they represent the presence of that which inspires
to awe and horror such as, in the human voice, we asso-
ciate with the pectoral quaHty. The resemblance to this
tone in its milder forms is undoubtedly that which imparts
a solemn effect to the music of the church organ. When,,
again, the predominating sounds are those of the wood
instruments— the clarinet, the flute, even, to some extent,
the organ— we feel that these represent the gently satis-
fied mood, the peaceful contemplation, which, in elocution,
is indicated by pure quality. We can confirm this by
recalling the effects of the Shepherd music in Rossini's
" William Tell," or in Wagner's " Tristan und Isolde,"
e.g.:

fefe

^^

m

— F — • • r

-gi-

9

f

No. 62.

When, instead of the wooden wind instruments, we hear
the metallic, either as in the organ or in trumpets and
instruments of similar character, we feel that these repre-
sent the more profound emotions, the admiration, enthu-
siasm, courage, determination, that we are accustomed to
associate with elocutionary orotund quality. To such
music we expect to see troops march on to the stage, as
in the Soldiers' Chorus in Gounod's " Faust," giving vent
to their confidence in anticipation of victory, or to their

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL QUALITY. 297

joy in view of its accomplishment. Once more, when we
hear the stringed instruments we recognize that it is their
peculiar function to impart intensity of feeling, just as is
true of the elocutionary aspirated quality. Hence, the
reason for the use of the violins in that scene in Wagner's
" Meistersinger " which takes place in the house of Hans
Sachs ; or in the Venus music of his " Tannhaiiser " ; or
in the waltz music of Gounod's " Faust." Just as in the
case of the elocutionary aspirate, too, so here the effects of
these stringed instruments may partake of those of any of
the other instruments. Not only when associated, as in
orchestral music, with the instruments that have been
mentioned, but even when not associated with these, the
sharper tones of the strings suggest the aspirated guttural,
their lower hollow tones the aspirated pectoral, their
struck tones, as in the piano, the guitar, and the harp, the
aspirated pure, and their tones as produced by the bow,
the aspirated orotund.

After what has been said, it is scarcely necessary to add
that, as in the cases of duration, force, and pitch, all of
these suggestions of quality may be produced not only in-
directly by way of association, but directly also, by way of
comparison, or, in other words, through effects purely ijni-
tative. All of us have heard representations of battles and
thunder-storms made such through using drums and cym-
bals, of birds through using flutes, and of sleigh-rides
through the tinkling of bells and the cracking of whips.
But, possibly, we do not all realize that such forms of
imitation are not confined, as is sometimes supposed, to
works of a low order of merit. For instance, in Wagner's
"Walkiire," to quote from Hans von Wolzogen : "The
wind blows, the thunder rolls, lightning flashes in the
rising and falling sway of the orchestra and the stroke

298

MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

of the weather-god's hammer in the ' Motive of the
Storm ' " (63).

X

*—*-

^^

^

No. 63.

Notice, too, the following from " O ruddier than a
cherry," in Handel's " Galatea," as given in Gurney's
" Power of Sound " (64) :

^^^^^

gj

^

f\— N

Yet hard to tame as raging flame, And fierce as storms that bluster.
No. 64.

Also, as given in the same, this distinctively pectoral
effect from Handel's " Envy, eldest born of hell " (65) :

M

=^

m

^H

S

ad;^^ «U«- =^

Hide thee in the black

F°=?

-m-
est night! Vir - tne

^

fc

^

^

sick -ens at thy sight, Vir - tue sick-ens at thy sight

-J. _J ■ — ^ — ^^

•*• -•- T^ -^- -J- -J-

No. 65.

i -^ T^

REPRESENTATION THROUGH MUSICAL QUALITY. 299

So, too, in the works of Hadyn, there are many pas-
sages evidently intended to be imitative in quality,
noticeably in the accompaniments of his oratorios, as, for
instance, in the representation, through the use of the
bassoons, of the tread of the elephant accompanying, in
"The Creation," the v/ords, " By heavy beasts the ground
is trod " ; and of thunder through the use of drums ac-
companying those in " Judah," " The rolling thunder He
cast on all " ; and also the roaring of a storm in the chorus
in the same oratorio, "The Lord devoureth them all."
Recall, too, the use of pure quality in the representation
of the song of the bird in Wagner's " Siegfried " (66) :

(a)

m 4- r ^

BTT C L l-L^

W

rf

^

(d)

^

85^3

^

>ii

uj \ '-iin

No. 66,

There is no doubt, too, that the effects produced by
the vioHns in the forest music preceding this song of the
bird, as well as in the pastoral symphonies of Handel and
of Beethoven, are intended to imitate, as heard in the
warmth of a summer's day and stirred by a gentle breeze,
the rustling of leaves and the buzz and soft hum of in-
sects ; in fact, the same as is imitated in another art by
Tennyson, when in " The Princess," he speaks of

300 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

" The moan of doves in immemorial elms,
And murmuring of innumerable bees, "

So, also, the distinctive qualities of the human voice
are sometimes imitated. What could illustrate this fact
better than the Wailing Chorus, or the song about
"Troubled Sleep " in Sullivan's " lolanthe " ?

CHAPTER VII.

MUSICAL REPRESENTATION IN SERIES OF PASSAGES
WHEN NOT IMITATIVE.

Series of Passages as Representative — By Way of Association as in Dis-
coursive Elocution — As Illustrated by Haweis — By J. D. Rogers: —
Schumann's "In der Nacht" — Brahme's German Requiem — B. I.
Oilman's Experiment — Explanation — Recorded Result — Deduction to
be Drawn from these Quotations : In what Sense they Indicate that
Music is Representative — Quotation from J. S. Dwight Interpreting the
most Important of the Forms of Musical Composition — Program Music —
Its Appropriate Use.

A S suggested by many of the examples of music con-
tained in the last chapter, as well as by others pre-
ceding them, it cannot fail to be observed that almost
all forms of musical representation, whether associative or
imitative, involve the use not of one element alone, be it
duration, force, pitch, or quality, but of a combination of all
four. Indeed, even when single phrases are representative
in only a single element, it is impossible to blend them
with others preceding or following them without suggest-
ing representation in all the elements. This fact renders
it necessary, before our discussion is complete, to consider
the representative character of music as manifested not
only in single phrases but in series of them.

Following the same order of thought that has been
pursued hitherto, let us consider the development of
series of phrases in accordance, first, with the methods
analogous to those giving instinctive and ejaculatory ex-

301

302 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

pression to internal moods by way of association, in
what was termed in Chapter II. discoursive elocution, and
second, with the methods analogous to those giving re-
flective and imitative reproductions of audible effects of
nature, in what was termed dramatic elocution.

Perhaps there could be no better way of illustrating
how series of representative phrases can be made to repre-
sent series of consecutive emotions, in accordance with
the analogies of discoursive elocution, as these have been
explained under each head of duration, force, pitch, and
quality, than by introducing here a quotation from the
" Music and Morals " of H. R. Haweis. It will be
noticed that each of these elements is mentioned by him,
though in a different order from that in which they have
been treated here. The quotation is all the more apt,
too, inasmuch as, in the place in which it is found, it is
not directly intended to sustain the principles now under
consideration.

"(i) Elation and Depression. When a man is suffering intense thirst
in a sandy desert, the emotional font within him is at a low ebb [this is
represented by low pitch] ; but on catching sight of a pool of water not far
off, he instantly becomes highly elated, and forgetting his fatigue, he hastens
forward upon a new plane of feeling [high pitch]. On arri\nng at the water
he finds it too salt to drink, and his emotion, from the highest elation, sinks
at once to the deepest depression [very low pitch]. (2) Velocity " — what has
here been termed time — . ' ' At this crisis our traveller sees a man with a water-
skin coming toward him, and his hopes instantly rise [high pitch], and run-
ning up to him he relates how his hopes have been suddenly raised and as
suddenly cast down [high and low pitch again] ; but long before he
has expressed or even begun to express his meaning, he has, in a
moment of time, in fact, spontaneously, with the utmost mental velocity,
repassed through the emotions of elation and depression which may at first
have lasted some time, but are now traversed in one sudden flash of reflex
consciousness. (3) Intensity " — what has here been termed force — . ' ' As he
drinks the sparkling water, we may safely affirm that his emotion increases in
intensity up to the point where his thirst becomes quenched, and that every

REPRESENTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE. 303

drop that he takes after that is accompanied by less and less pungent or intense
feeling. (4) Variety'' — including also what has here been termed quality. —
" Up to this time, his emotion has been comparatively simple ; but a suffering
companion now arrives, and as he hands to him the grateful cup his emotion
becomes complex, that is to say, he experiences a variety of emotions simul-
taneously. First, the emotion of contentment at having quenched his own
thirst ; second, gratitude to the man who supplied him with water ; . . ,
third, joy at seeing his friend participating in his own relief. (5) Form. If
the reader will now glance over this simple narrative ... he will see
that both the simple and the complex emotions above described have what,
for want of a better term, we may call form ; i. e. , they succeed each other
in one order rather than in another, and are at length combined with a
definite purpose in certain fixed proportions."

A similar conception with reference to the general
analogy of series of musical effects to series of events, as
we are accustomed to see them unfold not in one but in
many different departments of nature, is brought out in
the Appendix II. of Bernard Bosanquet's " History of
Esthetic." The author says :

"The following notes have been furnished me by Mr. J. D. Rogers.
. . . They appear admirably to illustrate the conception of music, as the
spirit of actions and events, suggested by Plato and Aristotle, and in modern
times popularized by Schopenhauer :

" I. Schumann's ' In der Nacht ' used to summon up before my imagina-
tion the picture of the moon struggling through the clouds on a windy night
— emerging and disappearing by turns ; then for a while reigning ' apparent
queen ' amid white fleecy clouds, which are not sufficient to intercept its
light. During two moments even this silken veil is withdrawn, only to be
succeeded by a bank of black clouds, for a long time impenetrable, at last
penetrated at intervals a little more irregular and with a brightness a little
wilder and more meteoric than before ; finally — the light is put out and
quenched by the storm.

' ' I learnt some years afterward that Schumann also associated this piece
with a picture, the idea of which occurred to him after he had written the
entire set of ' Fantasiestucke ' to which it belongs. It was a picture por-
traying the story of Hero and Leander ; his picture is not incompatible with
mine. In his, the clouds correspond to the waves, the moon to a swimmer,
buried and stifled in their troughs or flashing and calling out from their

304 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

crests. Where the moon triumphs in my story, in his there is a love scene
on the shore, accompanied by the distant rippling of waves ; it seems almost
as though

" ' The billows of cloud that around thee roll
Shall sleep in the light of a wondrous day.'

" But no ; there comes the plunge back into waves blacker than before —
tossings to and fro — cries from the swimmer and from the shore — and,
finally, "night wraps up everything.' The music can be rendered after
the manner of Max MuUer, either into a Lunar myth or into a Greek
legend. What the moon does, and what the Greek hero did in the
story, are to a, great extent the same ; and music interprets that impor-
tant element or attribute which is common to both.

"2. If music seizes hold of the spirit or soul of any event or series
of events, has, it may be asked, any composer attempted to represent
God — God in the sense in which the word is used in the common phrase,
' God in history,' or in which God is described in Tennyson's ' Higher
Pantheism,' or Wordsworth's ' Tintern Abbey'? I reply by an instance,
Brahms's German requiem has often been praised for the rich elabora-
tion of its detail, its blending of the antique and modern, its contra-
puntal devices fused in the crucible of romanticism. But it has yet finer
and deeper merits. The solemn opening, ' Blessed are they that mourn,' is
set to the same music as the solemn close, ' Blessed are the dead.' In
the middle of the piece the name of God is introduced for the first, and al-
most the last time, to the words, ' The souls of the righteous are in God's
hand." That name is translated into music by the pedal note, which is held
down from beginning to end of the fugue in which these words are set. The
pedal note persists, makes its presence felt throughout, is all-enduring, all-
pervading ; the fugue starts from it, and finally, after many intricate wander-
ings, returns to it ; it is the fundamental note — the foundation of the first
and last chords, and, although many different, and apparently incompatible,
harmonies are found in the course of the fugue, these harmonies are all
finally resolved into the initial harmony, of which that pedal note is at once
the characteristic note and the epitome. Everything proceeds from it and
returns to it ; it alone is permanent, and steadily, continuously, irresistibly
self-asserting. Neither poetry nor painting n5r architecture can express
mysteries such as these with such searching force and directness."

A still more important contribution to this subject,
justifying, according to a scientific method, these views
of the representative character of the effects of music, is

REPRESENTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE. 305

made by Mr. Benjamin Ives Gilman, in an article upon
"Musical Expressiveness," published in the "American
Journal of Psychology," and also in " Werner's Maga-
zine " for May, 1893. Mr. Gilman states that, in answer
to an invitation extended by him, about thirty persons
assembled in a parlor at Cambridge, Mass., their object
being to test by experiment " the power of music to
awaken definite ideas and emotions in the listener."
What follows is given in his own language.

" The instruments used were a grand piano and the violin. The inter-
pretation of the program was intrusted to three well-known musicians, Mr.
Charles L. Capen, Miss E. M. Yerrington, piano, and Mr. A. Van Raalte,
violin. The whole company, performers and audience, began the evening
in a very skeptical frame of mind regarding not only the value of any data
■which might be obtained, but even the possibility of carrying out such a test.
The result belied our forebodings. The method of inquiry proved a prac-
ticable one, and there was, I think, a general feeling of surprise among the
listeners at the amount of booty rewarding their determined efforts to cap-
ture the suggestions of the music played. It was expected that several
musicians by profession would be among their number, but as it turned out
the audience consisted entirely of amateurs. A large minority, if not a
majority of these were without special skill on any instrument ; a few were
•distinctly non-musical in the sense of having no marked endowment of
musical ear or memory ; but there were none present, I think, who were not
capable, at least at times, of enjoying and feeling music deeply. The work
of the evening consisted in obtaining answers to fourteen questions based
npon thirteen selection's of music, one being the subject of two questions.
Nearly all of the pieces were played more than once, some of them several
times, and although they succeeded each other almost without intermission,
except for putting the questions, and making necessary explanations, the
experiment lasted without any relaxation in the interest of the participants
from eight o'clock until midnight. Twenty-eight note-books were the
result, sixteen contributed l3y gentlemen and twelve by ladies."

The reader will get a general conception of the result
of these experiments from two questions, together with
the answers to them, which, on account of their import-
ance, will be given in full. The gentlemen's answers from

306 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

A. to P. are given first ; the ladies from A. to L. follow

these.

Question I.

Give any image that is strikingly suggested to your mind by the course of
the following piece. — Beethoven, "Piano-forte Prelude in F. Minor.'' It
bears no opus number, but in the Brietkopf & Haertel edition of Beethoven's
vporks is No. 195 in Series 18, " Kleinere Stttcke fiir das Piano-forte."
Piano solo.

To the writer its character is that of an unending contest with an opposi-
tion that bars every advance. It is an attempt to hew a way through ada-
mant. We could fancy ourselves listening to the tireless dialectic of a medie-
val schoolman on some transcendental thesis, or even admitted to the mind
of a melanchoHac eternally resenting miseries eternally visited upon him
afresh. Dry and gloomy energy doing doughty deeds to no purpose is to
me the burden of the piece.

Answers to I.

A. The swaying of the treetops in a moderate vrind ; weird songs are
sung beneath the trees.

B. A country church appeared to me ; the music formed the chimes :
the surrounding scenes were grave or gay as the music became slow and
soft or fast and loud. As it died away a funeral train seemed passing.

C. No image. Technique (not of performance but of composition)
entirely covers up the aesthetic effect. I cannot help being lost in the
sequence of the strain, especially on an instrument of percussion like the
piano.

D. At first, organist seated at an organ in church, then a change at end
to twilight ; a large hall ; a man who has felt sorrow, yet feels the grandeur
of life above all, improvises ; a love sadness.

E. Plunge of a torrent in the woods ; then children's feet dancing as
the key changes ; sunburst. Thenceforward the piece gets more dramatic,
forming a sort of tumultuous dialogue or inward dilemma of affirmation and
negation. It rolls on to some practical moral decision, and with moments
of peace or weary diversion it ends in a sort of forgetting cahn without par-
ticular triumph. >

r. A hymn of thankfulngss.

H. Persistent struggle with rather mild difficulty, e. g., walking through
a wood with thick underbrush.

I. Chime of church behs ; bright, sunny morning ; gathering to church ;
in church ; entry of minister ; hushed ; minister rises ; ready for sennce ; last
stroke of chimes.

REPRESENTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE. 307

J. The rolling up of breaker after breaker on the beach with the sound
of more distant rollers in the lulls ; or the dying away of a storm.

K, This is a fugue. Fugues always suggest to me the beauty of organ-
ism, the universal not being built out of an accretion of particulars but re-
vealing itself in subtle relations among them ; the complexity of law ; the
essentialness of sadness to happiness.

L. A great strife against something ; a final conquering of this some-
thing, and then rest. This strife seems to return at times and is then
quieted ; finally, near the end a burst of it, and then the quiet closing
bars.

M. Suggests a life toiling on through disappointment and struggle,
until at last peace comes, a peace of which there had been moments of an-
ticipation. Not a brilliant idea nor a prominent life.

N. The resolute self-possession of the process that, going on, suggests
at once something very much alive, very free — a nature-force in full posses-
sion of its own world : '* Sie entlasst sich frei^ ikrer selbst ganz sicher^* says
Hegel of the Idee^ when it passes over into Natur. I have a sense that a
water-process would be the scene most naturally suggested. Scene, how-
ever, not complete, but waves on water most probable.

O. A rather distinct idea of a workman making something by strokes, as
a smith. There is also a feeling that he is in a lazy mood, as if the afternoon
sun was streaming in. The work is pleasant.

P. Church ; opening voluntary. Religious cheerfulness. A religious
dance ; measured movement of hands. Or, somewhat, a brook tumbling
along over a stony bed. The suggestion of a yearning.

A. (Bach). A ship approaching end of voyage : all tension : haven.

C. It (the piece) seemed to me to embody the progress of a, mountain
stream on its course from the hiUs to the plain, flowing among rocks over
many obstacles, under the forest trees, with the quiet and deep repose of the
wild wood pervading all. This was the only image that occurred to me.
The intensity of the stillness of the wood was most prominent.

D. Persistent effort, resulting in serene progress.

E. A perpetually struggling bird, flying up and beaten back by the
wind.

F. Beating of the waves upon the rocks in the receding tide.

G. Storm wind ; agitated sea ; dashing on rocks or through pines ; in-
creasing, then gradually subsiding. A rock-bound coast with weather,
beaten woods, mostly pines.

Spiritual vision ; strong emotion ; unrest ; gradual peace, though not
joy.

308 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

H. The last part makes upon me the impression of a scene of farewell,
and I seem to see the departing friend disappear beyond a hill.

/. Dark clouds ; storm. An old German church with suggestion at
the close of a funeral sermon over some great and heroic character. A
feeling throughout as of a strong resounding sea against a frowning coast.

y. A controversy or argument between a man and a woman, ending
with great peace.

K. The incoming tide dashing on the rocks, with intervals of quiet
ebb.

Z. Church music ; oflertoire ; also organ playing while waiting for a
wedding party ; cheerful, and not too joyful ; serene ; also the suggestion
of hearing the organ playing inside, while outside, in the summer. (Bach.)

Question V.

How would you describe the general mood which the following music is
fitted to incite, or the atmosphere which seems to pervade it ? — Beethoven,
" Piano-forte Sonata in E," op. log. Andante molto cantabile. Thetheme
alone without the variations. Piano solo.

It suggests to me a mood of devotional meditation (Andacht).

Answers to V.

A. I am still too much under the influence of No. IV. to be affected by
this number.

B. Doubt ; hesitation.

C. Resignation.

D. Peaceful, but sadness in it.

E. Pensive, not passionate, and grave ; not regretful. Nothing more
determined.

F. Prayer.

G. Proceeds from a placid mood in the presence of the sublime.
H. Religious.

I. Devotional scene ; not very religious, but dignified.
J. Seriousness, solemnity, thoughtfulness, religious feeling.
K. Reverent, joyful worship.

Strasburg Cathedral ; a procession passing along the nave ; a choir-boy
swinging a censer turns his face and looks at the spectator.

L. Somewhat religious, though it has a shade of vague unrest in it.

M. Religious, suggests some German church music.

N. No impression worth noting beyond a general atmosphere as of a

REPRESENTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE. 309

calm introduction to a dignified ceremony (?). This interpretation seems
doubtful.

O. Not sure — thought still about the former piece. Is it religious peace
and resignation ?

P. Tender seriousness.

A. Religious expansion ; grateful worship of a full, free heart.

B. Seriousness of life.

C. Tender religious melancholy tinged with a sense of pathetic
pleasure.

D. Placid retrospect.

E. Known. A mood of comfort and endurance bom from sorrow,

F. Retrospection.

G. Devotional ; religious.

H. Longing after a higher life.
/. Hock^ heilig und kehr,
J. A generous and complete nature.

K. Self-control and the quiet, happy feeling that follows success.
X. A restless person waiting for some tardy arrival, trying to forget
himself in writing out some serious music.''

It is evident that music may be representative in the
ways indicated in each of the quotations from these three
writers without being in any distinctive sense imitative.
All that is necessary is that its successive phases should
follow a general order similar to that to which we have
become accustomed in certain series of sounds or sights
in nature. We have noticed, perhaps, a quiet rill devel-
oped into a cataract, and this again into a quiet pool ; or
a clear sky developed into a storm and this again into a
clear sky ; or peace developed into war and this again into
peace ; and one or the other of these series of phenomena
is suggested to us when we hear a series of musical effects
developed in what appears to be a similar order. The
reason why these or any other phenomena are suggested
is because of the principle of correspondence, which, as
has been said, underlies all methods of expression, espe-
cially those exemplified in discoursive elocution. Accord-

3IO MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

ing to this principle, it is instinctively felt, even when not
consciously thought, that different phases of invisible and
inaudible moods follow one another in analogy to phases
of a visible or an audible character. '

With this general understanding of the nature of mu-
sical representation when not imitative, we shall be pre-
pared to recognize the essential truth of the following
description and interpretation of the most prominent of
the forms of musical composition. The passage is taken
from an article entitled, " The Intellectual Influence of
Music," contributed by J. S. Dwight, formerly editor of the
" Journal of Music " to " The Atlantic Monthly " for 1870.

' ' Look at the Symphony, or what is technically called the Sonata form,
common to sonatas, symphonies, trios, stringed quartettes, classical con-
certos, etc. This form, too, we say, is not mere accident . . . the reason
of it is to be sought in the nature of the human soul and in the corresponding
nature of music.

' ' How is it with us when a matter interests us and excites us to that pitch
of feeling in which music steps in as the natural language? Our whole
nature is engaged in it. The head, or thinking principle ; the heart, or
feeling, loving principle ; the will, or active principle ; and more or less
(amid these earnest powers) the lively, recreative play of fancy, — all take
part in it, all in turn are principally addressed by it. Reason, passion,
frolic, humor, will ; these seek each its type and representative in the forms
of an art so perfectly human and so pliant to the motions of the human soul
as music. If a matter taxes our reasoning, truth-seeking faculties for one
spell, it is a law of our nature that we then quit thinking and only fed about
it for another spell. We modulate out of the dialectic into the religious and
accepting mood. It was an argument, an emulous labor of the brain ; it
has become a lyric of the heart, a prayer, a hymn, a softly rising incense and
aroma of the faith and love and longing in us. And then, the more we have
been in earnest, the more naturally comes the reaction of frolic fantasy, and
humor, the more lively the suggestions and 'heat-lightnings' of a quick,
surcharged, midsummer fancy, — the scherzo humors that so often flash from
characters of deepest pathos. But the circle of moods is not yet complete.
■Thought, feeling, fancy, are but phases of the living stream that yet must
ultimate itself in action, must rush into deed, and so pour its life into the

REPRESENTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE. 311

great ocean whence all proceed and to which all tend. That is the finale.
Now for the musical correspondence.

" The first, or allegro movement of a symphony, takes up a theme, or
themes, and proceeds to their discussion and elaboration. It begins with a
principal theme or subject ; presently, with the natural modulation into the
dominant or relative key, comes in a counter theme ; these two are developed
and contrasted a little way, when the whole passage is literally repeated to
fix them firmly in the mind. Then begins a sort of analytic canvassing of
all that they contain ; fragments, phrases of the one are blended with or
off-set against the other ; the two propositions (often making up a number
■of accessory subjects by the way) are subjected to a sort of exhaustive mu-
sical logic, till what is in them is brought fully out and verified. By a sort
of refining, differentiating, intellectual argumentation, these themes are held
up in various lights, are developed singly and in contrast, and are worked
through various keys, abridgments, augmentations, episodes, digressions,
into a most various and complex whole, in which the same original threads
or themes continually reappear, yet with perpetual sense of novelty. The
intellectual principle delights in analysis, in the detection of differences and
distinctions. So the symphonic allegro betrays a tendency to continual
divergence and escape from the first starting-point. There is an art-type of
discussion, whose whole aim and tendency is unity and truth. What a type
of catholicity in thought ! Discussion, no denial ; music is incapable of
that ; Mephistopheles in music must make sad work or forget his nature.

" Then comes the adagio, lar ghetto, andante, — some slow movement,
which has more calm, still feeling and unquestioning religion in it. This
is the central sanctuary in this musical abridgment of man's life, which every
good symphony appears to be. This the heart ; that the head.

* * The serious andante passes, — sometimes directly, sometimes through the
frolic scherzo, and the minuet and trio, — into the rondo finale, which is
rapid and full of the spirit and preparation for action, full of resolve and
fire. The sentiment which has passed through the crucible of the judgment
in the allegro, and sought its divine repose at the religious altar of feeling in
the adagio, having traversed its intellectual and its effective phases, now
puts on its armor and moves on with alacrity for action. (Though, in many
lighter symphonies, it is more like a school-boy pulling on his hat and rush-
ing out of doors in pure animal spirits.) It seems to act itself out with
buoyant confidence ; sometimes with sublime triumph, as in the march con-
cluding the C Minor Symphony."

Before closing this chapter, a few words may be in
place with reference to what is termed program music.

3 1 2 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTA TIVE ART.

By this is meant a symphony or shorter composition in
connection with the performance of which there is dis-
tributed among the audience a printed explanation of the
scenes or events, or series of them, to which the move-
ments of the music are supposed to be analogous. Many
claim that this form of effect is not legitimate. But from
what has been said, it is evident that such analogies not
only may be, but probably are, conceived by the composer
when engaged in his work ; and it is only natural to sup-
pose, as Liszt did, that to let one's audiences know what
these were, will add to the interest of the music, just as a
printed description may add to the interest, for instance,
of an historical painting. We may even go so far, too, as
to suppose that such a description may add to the dis-
tinctively esthetic interest. According to the theory
advanced in Chapters X. to XV. of " Art in Theory,"
especially on page i6o, the degree of beauty is often in-
creased in the degree in which the number of effects enter-
ing into its generally complex nature is increased. This
is true even though some of these effects, as in the case of
forms conjured before the imagination by a verbal descrip-
tion, may come from a source which, considered in itself,
is not esthetic. It must not be overlooked, however, that
all beauty whatever is a characteristic of form ; and that
intellectual effects, like these explanations, to have an
aesthetic influence, must always be presented to apprehen-
sion in connection with an external form with which they
can be clearly associated. For this reason, though they
may add to the assthetic interest, where it alread}' exists,
they cannot, of themselves, make up for a lack of it. To
a work of art an explanation is much what canes are to
walking. Well used, they may increase the gracefulness
of impression conveyed by a man's gait. But this cannot

REPRESENTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE. 313

be graceful at all, unless he is able to walk without them.
So a picture cannot be all that a work of art should be,
unless, without one's knowing what the explanation is
designed to impart, the drawing and coloring can, in
some degree, at least, attract and satisfy aesthetic interest.
Neither can a musical composition, unless it too, without
the aid of explanations, through the mere unfolding of
musical motives in a distinctively musical way, can afford,
at least, some degree of aesthetic delight.

So far as an explanation is intended to be used as
a crutch instead of a cane, the opponents of program
music are justified. But, on the other hand, so long as a
composer refrains from conditioning upon his printed
description such effects as are not legitimate to it, there
seems to be no good reason why he should not share his
confidences with his audiences, and let them know what
visible phenomena seemed represented by his product
when he was preparing it. In pursuing this course, why
is he not acting as strictly in accordance with the princi-
ples of his art, as is the composer of an opera when he
indicates to his stage managers how to represent the
movements of his music through still more visible scenery
and action ?

CHAPTER VIII.

MUSICAL REPRESENTATION IN SERIES OF PASSAGES
WHEN IMITATIVE, WITH REMARKS ABOUT WAGNER.

Influence upon Representation of Slight Imitative Effects — Examples : Bark-
ing of a Dog — Braying of an Ass — Nightingale's Song — Cackling of a
Hen — Cluck of Same — Human Sounds — Laughter — Yawning — Sneez-
ing — Coughing — Quarrelling — Sobbing — Scolding — Moaning — Fond-
ling — Playing — Frightening Others — Paganini's Testimony — The
General Character of Wagner's Motives — His Peculiar Method of Using
them — Result of this, Especially upon those not Previously Appreciat-
ing Music — His Tendency toward a Language of Music — Will Others
Develop this — Two Methods in which it may be Done with Safety —
Conclusion.

TT is evident that the analogies indicated in the last
chapter between the general order of series of sounds
and the order of particular phases of nature that they are
intended to suggest, can be rendered much more distinctly-
apprehensible by adding to what is only generally repre-
sentative by way of analogy that which is specifically so
by way of imitation. It would need but a few imitative
strokes of a drum, for instance, to make that which might
suggest either a storm or a battle, suggest one of these
rather than the other. In this regard, musicsil forms cor-
respond exactly to poetic forms. Some words are repre-
sentative because they suggest a similarity in underlying
causes — like the word expressive, derived as it is, from
analogies between pressing one material substance out of
another material substance, and doing something similar

314

HEPRESEWTATION WHEN ASSOCIATIVE.

315

with a purely mental substance. Other words are repre-
sentative because they suggest a similarity in apparent
effects— like the imitative words "buzz" or "crackle."
The same is true, too, of phrases and sentences. Some
are artistic because they recall an analagous series of rela-
tionships, and some because they also recall an analagous
series of sounds.

We have noticed already, as applied to music, how not
only associative but imitative effects may be produced by
a main use of each of the different elements of duration,
force, pitch, and quality. Here are a few more examples
produced by a combination of these. It is not necessary
to say that they have the same general relation to musical
effects that descriptive passages have to those of poetry.
The following imitations are noticed by Gardiner in his
" Music of Nature." Here is a representation of the bark-
ing of a dog by Haydn in his " Thirty-eighth Quartet":

«

3

i

"^f- T ^'f- -r f f f-

No. 67.

Here one of the bray of the ass by the same composer in
his " Seventy-sixth Quartet " :

n

-•-=-

^

No. 68 "A."

i

tt

No. 68

3l6 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

In this he represents the song of the nightingale ;

It

^i^fli ^'. j^ ;. =^

s

-0—

Sweet bird that shunn'st the noise of fol - ly,
Most mu - sic - al, most mel - an - chol - y!

No. 6g.

And in this, from the Finale of his " Twentieth Quar-
tet," the cackling of a hen :

No. 70.

The cluck of the hen (imitated also by Mozart and
Rossini) is thus given by Beethoven in his "Third
Symphony " :

I

%

"^ H-^ j'^n r^

No. 71.

Imitation in music, however, is confined largely to
representing tones natural to the human voice. The
authority last quoted notices the following :
Of laughter, by Handel-,

1 ^1' , c c UJ^i c c r_f

No. 72.

REPRESENTATION WHEN IMITATIVE. 317

by Weber,

la

B^=iz^

^

^-XL^Zl

No. 73.
Of yawning, by Haydn in his " Fifty-seventh Quartet " :

E

£z:i2i

p^ r^-f

No. 74.

.-^

No. 75.

i

=1^^

^■

^

No. 76.

cT' t: ".1^ j^

I

No. 77.

Of sneezing,
by the same in
his "Eighth
Symphony."

Of a cough, by
the same.

Of three per-
sons in a passion,
by Beethoven in
his " Third Trio."

Of the sobbing of a child, by Rossini in a duet in " Gazza
Ladra " :

^E ^^ ^

No. 78.

3l8 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

Of the scolding of a woman in the overture by Mozart to
the " Magic Flute " :

fl^gj^ig

ZtZ±L

:X=^c=t=X

No. 79.

Of the moan of sorrow and pain, by Beethoven in his
" Third Trio '" :

^^^d^^E^EEl

t=:i=q=s

■ f — '— N — ^

No. 80.

Of the tone of a mother fondling her child in Haydn's
" Fifty-eighth Quartet " :

No. 81.

Of the sounds of children at play in Mozart's " Fifth
Quintet " :

25Z

:?===*

^

EEEE

^-

No. 82.

REPRESENTATION WHEN IMITATIVE. 3 19

Of children frightening one another, in the opening of
Beethoven's " Symphony in C Minor." Concerning this
strain, Beethoven is said to have remarked, " It is thus
that fate knocks at the gate " :

^=t-

^=^=r=r=^

■^

^

Woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo, woo.

No. 83.

Very hkely some of the above appearances of imitation
are merely coincidences. Others, perhaps, are strains that
had been heard by the composer and retained in memory,
and were afterward used without any definite notion of
the source from which they were derived. Yet there can
be no doubt that many of them furnish illustrations of
conscious imitation. Notice what Paganini says about one
of his performances. His words are quoted as given by
Gardiner in his " Music of Nature" :

" I accordingly gave notice at court that I should bring forward a musical
novelty under the title of a Love Scene . . I . . . previously
robbed it [his violin] of the two middle strings, so that none but the F and
G remained ; the first string being designed to play the maiden's part and
the lowest the youth's. I began with a. series of dialogue in which I at-
tempted to introduce movements analogous to transient bickerings and
reconciliations between the lovers. Now the strings growled and then
sighed, and anon lisped, hesitated, joked, and joyed, till at last they sported
with merry jubilee. Shortly, both souls joined once more in harmony, and
the appeased lovers quarreled to a J>as de deaux which terminated in a
brilliant Coda."

Wagner's themes, or motives, as they are termed, and
his uses of them were so unique in character as to de-
serve special mention. As indicated by the selections from

320 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

his works inserted in previous chapters, many of these
themes were based upon the principle of imitation. But
many more, as has been shown, were based upon that of
expression according to the methods of discoursive rather
than dramatic elocution. Whether he himself was
thoroughly conscious to what an extent this was true is
uncertain, though it is hardly conceivable that one who
had made so exhaustive a study of the effects of sound,
should not have had some definite theories with reference
to their significance. Most musicians, however, though
quick to detect the appropriateness of different move-
ments for different sentiments, have difificulty in explain-
ing the reasons for their preferences ; and it may have
been the same with him. But if so, it is a remarkable
proof of the accuracy of his musical instincts that, without
guidance of the reason, he should have made so few mis-
takes, as judged from even the point of view of the
elocutionist.

While there is this to commend his motives, however,
it is not these in themselves so much as the way in which
he introduced and combined them, that distinguishes his
musical effects from those of other composers. His
method was first to associate a motive with some person,
object, action, or event ; and afterward, whenever that with
which it was associated appeared upon the stage or was
suggested by the language, thought, feelings, or situations,
the motive itself was introduced into either the melody of
the voice or the harmony of the instrumentation. Not
only so, but a certain correspondence was musically indi-
cated between the way in which this was introduced and
the relations of the person, object, action, or event to the
circumstances attendant upon its introduction.

This method, to those who have familiarized them-

REPRESENTATION WHEN IMITATIVE. 32 1

selves with the motives, causes an opera of Wagner to have
a double effect : first, the ordinary musical effect which is
■due to the development of the melodies and harmonies
for their own sakes ; and, second, the intellectual effect
which is due to connecting each of these motives with
that which it suggests, and noticing the way in which it
blends with other motives or opposes them. This action
on an extended scale, of motive upon motive, is what
Wagner meant by dramatic music, and it is in the develop-
ment of this that he chiefly manifested his originality. It
is owing to it, too, that he has obtained such a hold upon
his admirers. His method of adapting music to the re-
quirements of intellect necesssarily adds to it an intellec-
tual interest. In fact, after making all due allowance for
those who applaud and apparently enjoy his music for the
same reason that they applaud arnd apparently enjoy any-
thing which is understood to be fashionable, there are cer-
tainly many people formerly unable to appreciate products
of this art, who have learned to perceive in his works
that which they can appreciate, and who, by first coming
to take delight in it as developed by him, have come
to take an otherwise, for them, impossible interest in all its
legitimate forms. Through effects thus exerted Wagner
greatly dignified the art to which he devoted himself,
as well as extended the sphere of its influence.

But notice that the circumstance which enabled him to
•do this was the fact that with him series of notes are
brought together in exact analogy to the way in which
the much briefer series of syllables or words are brought
together in speech. To a certain extent, it might be said,
therefore, that what Wagner did was to construct a lan-
guage of which the factors were not words but motives.
It is conceivable, of course, that other musical composers

322 MUSIC AS A REPRESENTATIVE ART.

in the future will accept the meanings assigned by him to
these motives, and use them, and add to them, and so
go on and develop from them a language of music, which
can be understood universally. But probably this will
never be done. Probably, too, it would be found to be
undesirable. It would be almost certain to lead to an
amount of imitation that would cause the art to decline.

There are, however, two methods open to composers,
from the applications of which less danger of this kind
could be apprehended. One is to originate their own
motives, and then to use them in their own compositions,
according to the repetitious methods of Wagner. The
other, and, in case of complete success, a better method —
but only a genius of the very highest order could develop
it — would be, according to the principles underlying rep-
resentation in duration, force, pitch, and quality that have
here been mentioned, to form a musical alphabet of the
emotions, each factor of which should not be a whole
motive but could be used as a part of a motive. Thus
used, it is possible to conceive that such an alphabet might
leave abundant scope for originality, and yet render the
motive, whenever heard, at least comparatively intelli-
gible. There is a natural, inarticulated language of the
emotions employed by all of us. What reason is there in
nature to suppose otherwise than that all its elements
might be comprehended and tabulated with sufficient
definiteness in a few score of carefully related forms of
sound ? As it is, even now, every really great composer
recognizes the existence of this language and uncon-
sciously applies its principles. Why should they not be
formulated so that all men could • know them ? Why
should not the psychological correspondences of music be
unfolded with as much definiteness as those of elocution

REPRESENTATION WHEN IMITATIVE. 323

to which in their elements they are analogous ? Or, if the
formulation of the principles involved would necessitate,
as it might, artistic difficulties and dangers impossible to
overcome, why, at least, might there not be developed
among men such a concurrency of opinion with reference
to the principles themselves that the composer would feel
constrained, more often than at present, to regard them ?
And then, in the degree in which they were carried out
persistently and accurately, would not the musical world
be made familiar with them, and even the unmusical be
made, at any rate, to recognize their existence ?

Were this done we should have no more writers upon
aesthetics with outer and inner senses — ears and minds —
so dull of perception as to declare that music does not
appeal, as do the other arts, to intelligence, or that it is
presentative and not representative. It has been abun-
dantly shown here that this view is erroneous ; but it
would be an advantage to have the recognized conditions
of the art clearly reveal the fact. It would be an advan-
tage to have music seen by all in its true position, standing
side by side with poetry, painting, sculpture and archi-
tecture, and representing, in just as legitimate a sense as
they, its own appropriate phase of the influence which
nature exerts not merely upon the auditory nerves —
which alone would not account for its spiritual effects
— but also upon the mind.

INDEX.

Abruptness, art-method, 3 ; in ef-
fects of harmony, poetic, 162,
l66 ; musical, 212, 213, 217 ; of
metre, 59.

Accent, 6, 12, 15 ; as the basis
of rhythm and metre, 17-24 ;
changes in musical, 103 ; changing
number of, in poetic lines, 48-52 ;
Greek, 22 ; in musical measures,
101-103, 257 ; marks for, Greek,
184 ; musically representative,
when at unusual places, 259, or
not strongly marked, 260 ; physi-
cal cause of, 14, 28.

Accented clicks, and their effect on
rhythm, 12 ; syllables, 5 ; should
not contain same sounds as un-
accented, 1 1 8-1 20.

Accomplishment, as represented in
music, 297.

Across the World I Speak to Thee,

78-
Admiration, as represented in music,

294, 296.

^neid, 37, 122, 125, 128, 133.

Esthetic, History of, 303.

Affirmation, as represented in music,
266, 270, 275, 286.

A Flying Visit, 86.

Alberich's Cry, 286.

Alexandrine Line, 36, 69.

Allied syllable sounds, consonance
and gradation in, 156-167 ; con-
sonant sounds, 156-158 ; leading
to gradation, 162, 163 ; vowel-
sounds, 159.

Alliteration, art-method of, 121-127,
135. 136. 148, 162, 176 ; Anglo-
Saxon, 124, 125, 148 ; how varied,
148 ; inartistic, how prevented.

136-167 ; influenced by likeness

in thought, 139-143 ; legitimate

effects of, 117-120, 138.
Alphabet, musical, 321.
Alternation, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, 3, 148, 149, 212 ; in rhythm,

3, 118, iig ; in scales, 189 ; in

verse, 150, 154, 155.
Amazement, as represented in music,

294.
Ambrose, St., 186, 268.
American Girl, An, 81.
American Journal of Psychology,

II, 305.
Among Comrades March, 258.
Analogies between series of events

and musical order, 310, 314.
Anapasst measure, 27, 31, 62-64.
Ancient Mariner, The, 20, 39, 130.
Angelo, xix, 71.
Angel Whisper, The, 47.
Anger, or passion, as represented in

music, 317.
Anglo-Saxon alliteration, 124, 125,

148.
Anima Anceps, 165.
Annabel Lee, 167.
Antecedent section in music, 98, 99.
Anticipation, as represented in

music, 266, 269-272, 275-277,

286-289, 296.
Antigone, xiii.
Antiquary, From the, 155.
Antony and Cleopatra, 126.
A Poet's Epitaph, 56.
Approbation, as represented in

music, 267.
Arab to his Favorite Steed, The,

33-
Arbuthnot, Epistle to, 46.

325

326 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Architecture, correspondences to

other arts, 4-7 ; representation in,

232-234 ; necessity of regarding

both form and significance in,

236, 237.
Ariosto, 71.

Aristotle, 24, 2g, 189, 303.
Arnold, M., 36; Sir E., 48.
Arrangement of sounds, as related to

ease of utterance, 11 3-1 17 ; effect

on mind and memory, 113, 114;

to sense, 116 ; showing likeness of

thought in harmony, 143.
Art of Music as distinguished from

Natural Music, 248.
Art of Poetry, The, 135.
Art in Ornament and Dress, 154.
Art in Theory, v-vii, x, xi, xiv, xix,

2, 91, 136, 186, 231, 232, 235,

242, 248.
Art, need of philosophic study of,

iv, ix.
Artistic, The, fulfils requirements

of nature, 21, 37.
Artist, master of his methods, xiv,

XV.

Artists, their use of effects precedes
scientists' knowledge of causes,
no, 177.

Aspirate quality, 293, 294, 297.

Asses, as represented in music, 279,
316.

Association, as influencing musical
representation, 242, 254, 301—313.

Assonance, 127-131, 162, 176 ; em-
ployed in place of rhyme, 131 ;
how varied, 148 ; inartistic, how
prevented, 136-167 ; influenced
liy likeness in thought, 139-143 ;
legitimate effects of, 117-120,
138.

Assurance, as represented in music,
267.

As You Like It, 152.

Athens, an ode, 33.

Atlantic Monthly, 310.

At the Church Gate, 45.

Awe, as represented in music, 294,
296.

Bain, Alexander, 116.

Balance, art-method, 3 ; as used in
harmony, 148-155, 159, 160, 211-
213 ; in rhythm, 19, 30, 38, 55,
120 ; in polyphonic music, 190 ; in
scales, 189 ; excess of, 153.

Ballade, 80-82.

Ballade of Lovelace, 82.

Ballad of Sark, A, 48.

Bannockbum, 174.

Barry, 124.

Bass in music, 94.

Bassoon, 295, 299.

Battles, as represented in music, 297.

Beasts, tread of, as represented in
music, 299.

Beats in music, 224—226.

Beauty, 2 ; definition of, vii-ix.

Beautiful Snow, 31.

Beethoven, xix, 97-100 ; 237, 245,
260, 279, 306, 308, 316, 318, 319.

Bells, The, 31, 46, 56, 167.

Ben Allah Achmet, 87.

Berlioz, 245.

Bertha in the Lane, 45, 67.

Biglow Papers, 88.

Bird Motive, 299.

Birds, as represented in music, 279,

297. 299. 314-
Blanc, C, 154.
Blank Verse, 37, 42, 44, 49, 50 ;

irregular. 42-44 ; broken, 51.
Bloody Mary Architecture, 237.
Bolero, 104.
Bolton, T. L., II, 13.
Bosenquet, 303.
Bowker, R. S., 32.
Brahm, 304.

Break, break, break, 20, 40.
Breathing, influence on poetic lines,

14, 15, 28, 30; on divisions in

music, 94, 95.
Bridges, R., 44.
Browning, Mrs., 45, 67, 71 ; R.,

xiv., 127, 143.
Brut d'Angleterre, 129, 133.
Brydges, 25.
Bucolics, 123.
Bunner, H. C, 75.
Buoyancy, as represented in music,

257, 270, 281.
Burbridge, T., 47.

INDEX.

327

Burns, 6g, 174.

Buzz of insects, as represented in

music, 299.
Byrne, F. M., 83.
Byron, 33, 42, 49,69, 105, 127.
By the North Sea, 152.

Cadence, musical, 210 ; representa-
tive, either as major or minor,
282-290 ; when complete, 286 ;
minor as representative, 289.

Caesura, 30, 31.

Calderon, 124, 129, 151.

Camp Bell, The, 55.

Canadian Boat Song, The, 263.

Canning, Geo., 89.

Canterbury, Tales, Prologue, 129.

Canto, 57.

Capen, C. L. , 305.

Captain Reece, 86, 134.

Catholic Church and development of
harmony, 190.

Central-Point, art-method of, 3 ; in
harmony, 143, 212 ; in rhythm, ig.

Certainty, as represented in music,
276.

Chain Verse, French, 79, 80

Changes, of Accent in Verse-Lines,
48-52 ; of Syllables, 39-48.

Chant Royal, 84.

Charon, 124.

Chart of Methods of Art Composi-
tion, 3.

Chaucer, 67-70, 129, 133.

Chaucerian Stanza, 68 ; Shorter, 67 ;
Longer, 70.

Child during Sickness, To a, 174.

Childe, Harold, 49, 69, 70, 127.

Children of the Lord's Supper, 32,

35.

Children's Hour, 47.

Chinese music, 193 ; poetry, 135,
141 ; scale, 203.

Choosing a Name, 47.

Chords, 160, 162 ; compounded of
partial tones, 217-220; congruity
in effect of, 179 ; dominant, sub-
dominant, tonic, 210, 211, 214,
215 ; effects similar to those of
rhythm, 222, 223 ; harmonizing
major scale, 208, 210 ; ratios of

notes in, 219, 220 ; representation
in, 228, 282-290; seventh, 211,
218 ; seventh as representative,
283-290 ; transitions in ; 212-217 !
from major to minor, 215—217 ;
why enjoyable, 179 ; why neces-
sary to music, 221-228.

Chorus, more enjoyable than single
voice, 179.

Cimbeline, 52.

Clarinet, as representative, 296.

Classicism versus Romanticism,
x-xv.

Classic Verse and Metre, 21-23.

Clef, alto, 183 ; bass, 182 ; C. 183 ;
Fa., F. 182; G., 182; Sol., 182;
soprano, tenor, 183; treble, 182.

Climax, musical, 285.

Cloud, The, 132.

C Minor symphony, 100, 311, 319.

Coleridge, 20, 21, 39, 40, 42, 55,
130.

Coles, A., 32.

Colonna, V, 71.

Color, as tone, 6, 107, 108 ; gamut
of, 162.

Columbian Medal, xv.

Comic effects of rhythm, 85-89 ; of
rhyme, 87-89.

Common metre, 62, 85.

Comparison, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony of music, 185 ; of poetry,
117, 120, 139, 149; in melody,
187 ; of rhythm, 16, 20, 38, 92;
of the scale, 188 ; underlying
musical representation, 242, 254.

Comparison, the act of, represented
by inflections, 275.

Complaining, as represented in
music, 282.

Complaint of Mars, 70.

Complement, art-method, 3 ; effects
in syllable-sounds, 164 ; in har-
mony of music, 212 ; of poetry,
n8, 120, 139, 147-154, 159; in
rhythm, 16, 30, 38, 55 ; in scales,
189 ; polyphonic music, 190 ; too
much of, 153.

Complementary colors, 162.

Completing a musical idea, represen-
tation of, 266.

328 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Complex wholes united in art, when
they have like partial effects, 53,
100, 117, 121, 138, 176, 177, 200,
209, 217, 228.

Complexity, art-method, 3 ; in mu-
sical harmony, 179 ; inrhythm, 16,
in verse-harmony, 108, no, 119.

Complication, art-method, 3 ; in
harmony, 154-156, 190-212; in
rhythm, 55, 57, 95.

Composition, table of methods of
art, 3.

Compound metre 28.

Comprehensiveness, art-method, 3 ;
in harmony, poetic, 142, 143, 149 ;
musical, 212 ; in rhythm, 18.

Conclusiveness, as represented in
music, 267, 270, 271, 275-277, 286
-289.

Concord. See Chord.

Confidence, as represented in music,
258.

Confusion, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, poetic, 116; musical, 190,
208 ; in rhythm, 16, 92.

Congruity, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, poetic, 139 ; musical, 185,
212 ; in melody, 187 ; rhythm, 17,
18, 20; scale, 188 ; tones, 179.

Consequent section in musical period,

98, 99-

Consonance, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, musical, 223-227 ; poetical,
no, 139, 156-162 ; in melody,
187 ; in rhythm, 17, 18, 59 ; in
scale, 188, 189 ; why necessary,
221-228.

Contempt, as represented in music,
294.

Contentment, as represented in
music, 393.

Continuity, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony of poetry, 154, 155; of
music, 212 ; of rhythm, 57, 95.

Contour, 5.

Contrast, art-method, 3 ; between
accented and unaccented syllables,

118, 119 ; element of emphasis,
140; in harmony of poetry, 117-

119, 139, 147, 148 ; of music in
melody, 188 ; in rhythm, 16, 92.

Contrast, the act of, represented by
inflections, 275.

Convulsion, as represented in music,
261.

Coote, C, 258.

Coriolanus, 153.

Correspondence, principle of, in
musical representation, 233, 243,
309, 310, 314 ; in conditions and
directions of pitch, 264-267, 272 ;
in quality, 294 ; in rhythm, 253,
261.

Correspondences, between arts of
sound and sight, 1-7, 107, 108 ;
between instruments and human
voices, 91, 295 ; poetical and
musical divisions of time, 94-100 ;
and measures, loi, 102 ; and har-
mony, 145 ; between couplets and
musical sections, 98-100 ; pitch
and quality in poetry and music,
168-177.

Corti's Rods, 109.

Cotterill, 65.

Cotter's Saturday Night, 69.

Coughing, as represented in music>

279. 317-.

Counteraction, art-method, 3 ; in
harmony, musical, iSS, 20S, 212;
poetic, iiS, 119, 150, 154, 155,
159; in rhythm, 16, 30, 3S, iiS ;
in scale, 188.

Couplet, 30, 57, 95 ; like musical
sections, 98-100.

Courage as represented in music,
294, 296.

Course of Time, 112.

Cranch, C. P. 54.

Crashaw, R. 61.

Crazy Jane Architecture, 237.

Cristabel, 39.

Criticism, American, iv-ix ; impor-
tance of philosophic, ix ; its ob-
ject, iv. , V,

Crying, as represented in music, 2S2.

Cymbals, 297.

Dactyl measure, 27, 31, 32, 34, 35,

63.
Danger, as represented in music, 2S7.
Dante, xvii, 71, 124, 129, 151, 236.

INDEX.

329

Darwin, 245, 246.

Davis, T. , 174.

Deceived Lover, The, 46, 47.

Decision, as represented in music,

266, 275-277, 286.
Delight, as represented in music,

294, 296.
Denner, B., 236.
Depression, as represented in mnisic,

282, 302.
Descent of Man, 245.
Description of Wales, 125.
Despair, as represented in music, 286.
Determination, as represented in

music, 294, 296.
Development of musical motive,

95-99-

Dies Ir£e, 32.

Dignity, as represented in music,
254, 258.

Dimeter, 31, 47.

Dionysius, 184 ; praise of, 84.

Disappointment, as represented in
music, 289.

Disapprobation, as represented in
music, 267.

Discoursive elocution, 252, 253 ;
music, 254, 302.

Dissonance, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, 159, 212 ; in rhythm, 59 ; in
scale, 188 ; in seventh chord, 211.

Distinct intelligence, vifhy not con-
veyed by music, 240, 241, 247.

Disturbance, as represented in music,
261.

Divisions in poetry and music cor-
respond, 94-100.

Dobell, S., 41, 43.

Dobson, A., 79.

Dog, as represented in music, 215,
279.

Dominant chord, 210, 211, 214, 215.

Donders, i8g.

Don Juan, 295.

Dots in music, 93.

Double entendre, as represented in
music, 275.

Double measure, in poetry, 26-28 ;
with long quantity, effects like
straight line, 58 ; with short, like
angles, 58 ; in music, loi.

Doubt, as represented in music, 260,
267, 277, 308.

Douglas, 125.

Downward movements in accent,
57, 264-267 ; in music, 267-273,
275, 277, 278, 2B6-290 ; on un-
accented syllables, 172, 173.

Dramatic elocution, 252, 253; music,
254. 302, 321.

Drum, 295, 297.

Dryden, 33, 37, 135, 138.

Duration, art-method of, 3 ; effects
upon chicks in rhythmic grouping,
12, 13 ; upon poetic and musical
rhythm, i, 6, 91, 108 ; upon rep-
resentation in elocution, 251-254 ;
in music, 254-263.

Dwight, J. S., 310.

Earnestness, as represented in music,

256.
Ease of utterance, underlying poetic

sound-arrangements, U4-117.
Ecclesiastes, 43.
Echoes, 65.

Edinburgh Review, 113.
Education of Nature, The, Words-
worth, 173.
Effects, harmony of, as the test of

beauty, vii, viii.
Egyptian music, 187.
Eights, metre of, 62 ; and sevens,

68 ; and sevens and fours, 64.
Ejaculatory expression, 252, 301.
Elation, as represented in music, 302.
Elegy in a Country Churchyard,

Gray, 32.
Elephant's tread, as represented in

music, 299.
Elevens, metre of, 64 ; and tens, 63.
Eliot, George, 131.
Elliott, E., 56.
Ellis, A. J., 184.
El Magico Prodigioso, Calderon,

124, 129, 151.
Elocutionary effects, as correlated in

music, 251-254, 264-267, 274, 275,

280-282, 286, 291-295, 322.
Elwell, xxi.
Emphasis, elocutionary, produced by

contrast, 140.

33° RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Endings, of lines of verse, double,

46 ; end-stopped, 50-52 ; changes

in syllables, 44-46 ; feminine, 46 ;

light, 51 ; masculine, 46 ; run-on,

50-52 ; weak, 51.
Energy, as represented in music, 256.
English, as a medium of versification,

23, 24 ; its verse-methods, 21-24.
English Versification, 79.
Enoch Arden, n8.
Enthusiasm, as represented in music,

270, 296.
Envoy to Ballades, etc., 81, 82, 84.
Envy, Eldest Born of Hell, 298.
Epilogue, 127.
Epistle the Fifth, 138 ; to Arbuth-

not, 1 1 5.
Equivocacy, as represented in music,

275-
Essay, on Criticism, 33 ; on Man,

113, 114-
Euphonious, 117.
Euphony, 114, 115; as related to

the sense! 116.
Euphuism, 114.
Evangeline, 113.
Everett, 70.
Excursion, The, 50.
Exhalation. See Breathing.
Exhilaration, as represented in music,

257
Expression, in music, dependent

on the motive, 97, 233.
Extension, art-method, i, 3, 6, 108.
Exuberance, as represented in music,

269.

Fahrbach, P., 258.

Fairie Queene, The, 69, 116, 126,

130, 134, 151. 153. 154-
Farragut, Statue of, xxi.
Faun, Statue, xiii.
Faust, C, 258.
Faust, poem, 51, 296, 297.
Feast of Bacchus, The, 44.
Feeling, as represented in Art of

Music, 231, 241.
Feet, poetic, kinds of, 26-28, 54,

loi, 102 ; compared to musical

measures, 94-100. See Measures.
Ferdinand and Elvira, 87.

Fife, 295.

Fifths, consecutive, 214.

Finality, as represented in music,
266. See Conclusiveness.

Fit of Rhyme against Rhyme, 137.

Five Hundred Points of Good Hus-
bandry, 113.

Flats, signs of, in music, 183, 184 ;
keys for, 205.

Flight, Motive of, Wagner, 261.

Flute, 295.

Flying-up, as represented in music,
261 ; flying-down, 261.

Force, in poetic and musical rhyth-
mic expression, 5-7, 91, 108, 241;
as representative in elocution, 251,
252, 254 ; in music, 256-263,
302.

Forging Motive, Wagner, 261.

Form, as indicated by metrical ar-
rangement, 5 ; as influencing in
poetry mind and memory, 113,
114 ; as influenced by the require-
ments of significance, xvi— xxiii ;
importance of, in poetry, iii-
117; versus significance in all the
arts, 232-237.

Forms of Verse, French, 73-84.

French, accent on words, 14; allitera-
tion, 123 ; art, xix ; assonance,
128 ; early, translation from, 128 ;
poetic diction, 23,

Fretting, as represented in music,
282.

Fright, as represented in music, 294.

Frothingham, 35.

Gabrielli, G., 190.

Gaimar, G. , 123.

Galatea, 296.

Galop, 104, 257.

Gamut, 162-164. See Scales.

Garden of Cymodoce, The, 148, 152.

Gardiner, 262, 315, 319.

Gazza, Ladra, 317.

Genesis of Art-Form, The, i, 2, 15-
17, 20, 73, 100, 108, no. 138,
139, 142, 143, 153, 154, 156, 160,
i63i 177, 1S5, 208, 212, 213, 292.

Gentle Contemplation, as repre-
sented in music, 294.

INDEX.

331

Gentleness, as represented in music,

256.
Georgica, 150.
German, alliteration, 124; assonance,

129 ; harmony of poetic sounds,

151, 161.
German Requiem, 304.
Giants, motion of, Wagner, 263.
Gifts of God, The, 45.
Gilbert, W. T., 23, S6-88, 134.
Gilman, B. I., 305.
Gladstone, 113.
Gliding effect, as represented iu

music, 259,
God, as represented in music, 304.
God's Trouble, The, Motive of,

Wagner, 276.
Goethe, xiii, xvii, xix, xxiii, 35, 51,

124, 129, 151, 235.
Goetz von Berlichingen, xiii.
Golden Year, The, 144, 158.
Goose, The, 152.
Gosse, E. W., 84.
Gothic, xiv ; cathedral, 297.
Gotterdammerung, Motive of, Wag-
ner, 273 ; opera of, 278, 288, 290.
Go to thy Rest, 47.
Gounod, 296, 297.
Go Where Glory Waits Thee, 32.
Gracefulness, as represented in

music, 259.
Gradation, art-method, 3 ; in poetic

harmony, 162-167 ; in musical,

212-217 ; in rhythm and metre,

59-
Grand, The, as represented in music,

294.
Grant, 63.
Gratitude, as represented in music,

303,

Grave, The, as represented in music,
254.

Gray, 32, 85.

Greece, 23.

Greek, accent, how used, 22, 184 ;
alliteration, 122 ; assonance, 128 ;
ideal of art, xxiii ; intonation of
poetry, 184, 185 ; lyre, 185 ; reci-
tative poetry, 29; melodies, 184-
186 ; musical harmony, 189, 193 ;
musical scales, 199-201, 203, 204,

206 ; poetic harmony, 150 ; rhyme,
133; singing, i8g; stanzas, 185,
versification, 22, 23, 34.

Greeks, xi, xii, xiii, 268.

Gregorian chants, derived from
methods of speech, 186, 187, 267,
268.

Gregory, Pope, 186, 267.

Grouping, art-method, 3, 16, 53 ;
correspondence between musical
and poetical, 94-100 ; in poetic
harmony about central-point, 143;
of clicks of twos, threes, etc. , in
rhythmic experiments, 11-15, 56;
of like partial effects in unlike
complex wholes, 53, 100, 117,
121, 138, 176, 200,209, 217, 228;
of syllables, in measures and lines,
14-21.

Growing Twilight, Motive of, Wag-
ner, 276.

Guido of Arezzo, 187, 188.

Guitar, 297.

Gurney, 246, 298.

Hallelujah metre, 65.

Hall, J. S., II.

Hamlet, 165.

Hammering, Motive of, Wagner,
261.

Hammond, E. P., 112.

Handel, 298, 316.

Harmonic intervals, 215-220, 225 ;
ratios of, 219, 220.

Harmony, art-method, I, 3 ; and a
lack of it as musically representa-
tive, 282-290 ; as distinguished
from rhythm and proportion, 108 ;
developed from melody, lgo-192,
244 ; from methods of composi-
tion, 107-120, 207-220 ; from
partial tones, 208-210 ; of color
and sound corresponding, 6, 108,
109 ; of Greeks, 189 ; of major
scale, 208 ; of music, 185-191 ; of
poetry, 107-177 ; of speech, 170-
177 ; modern, developed from
polyphonic, 289-291 ; physical
and psychical reasons for, 221-
227 ; similarly produced in music
and poetry, 145, 146.

332 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Harp, as representative, 297.

Hastings, 63.

Haweis, H. R., 302.

Hawtrey, Dr., 36.

Haydn, 299, 315, 318.

Healthfulness, as represented in
music, 281.

Heber, 64.

Hebrew alliteration, 122 ; asso-
nance, 132 ; parallelism, 29.

Heginbotham, 62.

Hell and Heaven, 48.

Helmholtz, 91, 169, 175, 184, 185,
193, 194, ig8, 201, 209, 244.

Hemans, 139.

Hen, as represented in music, 279,

316-
Henry, IV., 158 ; V., 43 ; VI., 116,

157 ; VIII., 31, 130.
Heptameter, 33, 48.
Herbert, Geo., 45, 64, 132.
Hermann und Dorothea, 35.
Heroism, as represented in music,

289.
Hesitation, as represented in music,

260, 308.
Hexameter, 31, 32, 48 ; English

and classic, 34-36.
Higher Pantheism, The, 304.
Hireman Chiel, Ballad of, 131.
Homer, 33, 34, 36, 122, 128, 133,

150.
Home, Sweet Home, 271.
Hood, T., 66, 86, 87, 132.
Hopefulness, as represented in music,

270, 277, 286, 302.
Hopelessness, as represented in

music, 282.
Horror, as represented in music,

294, 296.
Hostility, as represented in music,

294, 295.
Hugo, v., xii, xiv, 123, 128 ; sonnet

on, 128.
Humoreske, 97,
Hunt, L., 174.
Hymns, different forms of metre of,

61-68.

Iambic measure, 32, 33, 37, 61-66.
Iambus, 27.

Ibsen, xxi.

Iliad, The, 36, 122, 128, 133, 150.

II Penseroso, 40, 113.

Imitation, in elocution, 252, 253 ; in
music, 254 ; in pitch, 272, 273,
279 ; in quality, 297-300 ; in
rhythm, 261-263 ; in series of
movements, 314-317. See Repre-
sentation, under head of Imitative.

Imitative, 253, 302.

Impeded, The, as represented in
music, 282.

Important, The, as represented in
musical rhythm, 254 ; pitch, 266,
267, 275, 286.

Inartistic effects, of alliteration, as-
sonance, rhyme, how prevented,
136-167 ; of rhythm, how pre-
vented, 38-52.

Incongruity, art-method, 3 ; in comic
effects of rhythm, 86-89 ; of sound
indicating that of sense, 142 ; in
harmony, 212. See Congruity.

Indecision, as represented in music,
266, 267, 275, 277, 286, 289.

Independent, The, v, ix, 235.

Indifference, as represented in music,
256.

Indignation, as represented in music,
294.

Inflections, meanings of downward
and upward, 265-67 ; of neither
direction, 280-282 ; of wave or
circumflex, 274, 275.

Ingoldsby Legends, 88.

Initial Measure, 27, 28, 39, 40, 62—
67.

In Memoriam, 62.

Innuendo, as represented in music,
270, 278.

Insignificant, The, as represented in
music, 266, 275, 2S6.

Insolvable, The, as represented in
music, 286.

Instructive methods of expression,
252, 301-313.

Instruments, representation in music
by, 91, 295.

Intellectual Influence of Music, The
310, 3=3-

Interchange, art-method, 3 ; in musi-

INDEX.

333

cal harmony, igo, 212-217 ! in
poetic, 159-161 ; in rhythm, 59 ;
in scales, 189.

Interesting, The, as represented in
music, 266, 267, 275, 286, 294.

Interspersion, art-method, 3 ; in
musical harmony, 153 ; in poetic,
212 ; in rhythm, 55, 95, 103.

Intonation, 184-189, 233, 251 ; as
conveying meaning, 243.

lolante, 300.

Iphigenie auf Taurus, xiii, xv, 151.

Ireland, 33, 174.

Irony, as represented in music, 275,
278.

Italian, alliteration, 124 ; assonance,
129 ; verse-harmony, 151 ; son-
neteers, 71 ; sonnets, 72.

Jonson, B., 137.

Journal of Psychology, American,

II, 305.
Joy, as represented in music, 254,

269, 281, 286, 297, 303.

Keats, 69, 71, 72.

Kenilworth, 43.

Key, 96, 108, 143, 211, 283 ; mean-
ing of musical, 205 ; transitions
from one musical, to another, 160,
214-217 ; from major to minor,
216, 218.

Keynote, 205, 211, 283 ; analogies to
musical, in poetic harmony, 143-

145-
King Lear, 158.
Kobbe, G., 255.
Kosciusko, To, 72.
Kyrielle, 78.

La Estrella de Sevilla, 124, 129.

L'Allegro, 155.

Lamb, Mary, 47.

Lament, A, 64.

Lamentations, I22.

Langland, 125.

Language of Music, 321.

Lanier, S., 51, 138.

La Nuit d'Octobre, 151.

Last Rose of Summer, The, 100.

Latin, 34 ; alliteration, 123 ; asso-

nance, 128 ; harmony of poetic

sounds, 150. See Roman.
Laughter, as represented in music,

316.
Layamon, 129, 133.
Lay of the Imprisoned Huntsman,

The, 33.
Lay of the Last Minstrel, The, 113.
Leiden des jungen Werther's, xiii,

XV.

Le Sacre de Charles X., 128.

L'Estorie des Engles, 123.

Lessing, xxiii.

Le JuUiet, 13, 123.

Les Vierges de Vordun, 123.

Letty's Globe, 73.

Light and Shade, 5, 7, 108.

Lightness of Mood, as represented
by music, 254.

Like, effects necessary to congruity
in quality and pitch, 179, 180 ;
effects of sound as indicating like
thoughts, 139-143, 153 ; partial
effects of unlike complex wholes
are at the basis of all art-unity,
and grouping, 53, 100, 117, 121,
138, 176, 177, 200, 209, 217, 228;
sounds follow in syllables only
when both are accented, 118-120.

Lille, R. de, 272.

Lines of Verse, corresponding to
musical phrases, 94, 95, 100 ; end-
stopped, and run-on, 50-53 ; in-
fluence of their length on tunes of
verse, 6i, 173, 174; length of,
determined by time of exhalations,
14, 15, 28, 30 ; massing of, in
stanzas, 57-88 ; representation of
slowness and rapidity in, 60, 61 ;
variety as introduced into, 38-52,
61-88.

Liszt, 312.

Literature, as influenced by low con-
ceptions of the importance of
significance, xvii, xviii, xxi-xxiii.

Lockhart, 41, 42.

Locksley Hall, 24, 48.

Loge, Motive of, Wagner, 255, 276,
279.

Long common metre, 66.

Longfellow, 32, 35, 45, 47, 65, 165.

334 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Long metre, 62, 86.

Longmuir, Dr., 125, 140, 141.

Loudness determined by amplitude
of vibrations, 196.

Lovelace, Ballad of, 82.

Love of Death, Motive of, Wagner,
256.

Love of Life, Motive of, Wagner,
277.

Lover, S., 47.

Love's Fascination, Motive of, Wag-
ner, 277,

Lowell, 88.

Lyre of Greek, or Orpheus, 200, 202.

Lyte, H. T., 63.

Macbeth, 142, 166.

MacCarthy, D. F., 33, 174.

Magic Flute, The, 318.

Major, cadence, 282, 285 ; chord,
215-220,225; representative effect
of its cadence, 282, 283, 286-290 ;
scale, 200, 204, 206.

Malignity, as represented in music,
295-

Marbode, L. de, 128.

March music, 104.

Marco Bozzaris, 42.

Marie Stuart, poem, 124, 129.

Marmion, poem, 33.

Marseillaise Hymn, 258, 272.

Massing, art-method, 3, in harmony,
musical, 212 ; poetic, 153 ; in
rhythm, musical, 95 ; poetic, 55.

Mathews, W. S. B., 96, 98, 104.

Matthews, B., 81.

Maud, poem, 127, 131.

Mazeppa, poem, 33.

McCarthy, J. H., 75.

McMaster, G. H., 57.

McMonnies, xxi.

Measure for Measure, drama, II2,
126.

Measures, correspondence of effects
to those of shape, 57-59 ; differ-
ence between musical and poetical,
92-95 ; influence of, on tunes of
verse, 6i, 172-174 ; kinds of, in
music, loi, 102, in poetry, 26-28,
60-89 ; representation in, 28, 57-
61 ; variety, as introduced in, 38-

52, 61-88 ; why eight kinds

needed in poetry, 102, 103.
Median Measure, 27.
Medley, 66.

Meeting of the Ships, The, 39.
Meistersinger, 297.
Melody, developed before harmony,

184-188, I9CH-I92, 244 ; Greek,

184-186 ; in speech, 170-177 ;

music and poetic, similar, 100, 172.
Memory, as helped by alliteration

and assonance, 141 ; by euphony,

113.
Menace, as represented in music,

295 ; Motive of, Wagner, 287.
Mendelssohn, 249.
Merchant of Venice, 113, 150.
Merkel, 170.

Metre, origin of, 244. See Meas-
ures.
Mildness, as represented in music,

256.
Milkmaid's Song, The, 41.
Mill Garden, The, 48.
Milton xvii, 21, 31, 40, 42, 49, 50,

55, 71, 112, 113, 115, 117, 125,

149, 155, 160, 166, 167.
Mind, as represented in art, 231-

233.
Ministerial Tone, as representative,

282.
Minnesingers of Germany, 133.
Minor, cadence, 2S2, 2S5. 2S6 ;

chord, 215, 216, 218, 219, 222,

225 ; representative effect of its

cadence, 282, 285, 286-290; scale,

200, 204, 206.
Minuet, 258.
Mirthfulness, as represented in

music, 254.
Misery, as represented in music,

282.
Miss Kilmansegg and Her Precious

Leg, 87.
Moaning, as represented in music,

282.
Moan, Moan, Ye Dying Gales, 66.
Mockery, as represented in music,

275. 2-8 ; Motive of, Wagner,

278.
Modulation in harmony, 212-217.

INDEX.

335

Monastery, from the novel, 130,
157.

Monk's Tale, The, 69.

Monometer, 31, 46.

Montgomery, 64, 66.

Moore, G., 82; T., 32, 65, 262,263,
271.

Mors et Vita, 76.

Mother Goose's Melodies, go.

Mother's Love, A., 47.

Motive in music, 94-99, 233, 243 ;
development of, 96-99 ; its chief
factor rhythm, 96, 97 ; its repre-
sentative and expressional in-
fluence, 97, 266 ; Wagner's
employment of, 319-321 ; that
termed the motive of Alberich's
Cry, 286 ; Bird, 299 ; Flight, 261 ;
Giants, 263 ; God's Trouble, 276 ;
Gotterdammerung, 273 ; Grovi'ing
Twilight, 276 ; Hammering, 261 ;
Loge, 255, 276, 279 ; Love of
Life, 277 ; Love of Death, 256 ;
Love's Fascination, 277 ; Menace,
287 ; Mockery, 278 ; Murder, 288 ;
Nornes, 273 ; Phrase of Nothung,
290 ; Pursuit, 277 ; Question of
Fate, 269 ; Rainbow, 273 ; Resig-
nation, 308 ; Rhinegold, 286 ;
Right of Expiation, 288 ; Rising
Treasure, 273 ; Siegfried, 288 ;
Sieglinde, 289 ; Shout of Fairies,
278 ; Snake, 262 ; Storm, 298 ;
Sword, 286 ; Sword's Guardian,
287 ; Thoughtfulness, 288 ; Tris-
tan, 289 ; Vindictive League,
288, Walhall, 286, 287 ; Walkure,
261 ; Walsungen Family, 289.

Movement, similarity of, in music
and poetry, 100, 172.

Mozart, 237, 295, 316, 318.

Muhlenberg, 63.

Muller, M., 304.

Mulock, D. M., 96.

Murder, Motive of, Wagner, 288.

Music, alphabet of, 322 ; cadence
in, 210, 211, 282-286 ; correspond-
ence of, to other arts, 4-7 ; de-
veloped from song and speech,
91 ; distinguished from poetry,
91-96; from speech, gi, 175-177,

241, 242; Greek, 184, 185, 189;
history of, 184-190 ; language of
321, 322 ; of middle ages, 189-
igi ; measures in, 92-95 ; notation,
93-95, 181-184 ; notes, as dis-
tinguished from words, 92, 171-
175 ; 241, 242 ; measures in,
92-95, 101-103 ; polyphonic, 189,
igo ; program, 312, 313; repre-
sentation of mind and nature in,
232, 233, 235, 241-243, 247, 248 ;
rhythm in, go-io6 ; what it repre-
sents, 241, 243, 247, 248 — see
Representation ; why it does not
convey definite intelligence, 240,
241, 244, 245, 247, 248.

Musical expressiveness, 305 ; nota-
tion applied to poetry, 40-42. See
Music.

Music and Morals, Haweis, 302.

Music as a Representative Art, xv,
97, 171, 231-323.

Music of Nature, The, 262, 315,

319-
Musset, A. de, 123, 128, 151.

Nathan Hale, statue of, xxii.
Nation, The, vi, xi, 235.
Natural, sign of note, 184.
Nature, as represented in art, 231-

233 ; in music, 232, 235, 24t-243,

247, 248.
Neele, H.,66.
Negation, as represented in music,

266, 275, 286.
Neugriechische Liebe-Skelien, 129.
Newton, 63.
Nibelung, Ring of, 255.
Nightingale, 316.
Nine Years Old, poem, 47.
Niobe, Groups of, xiii.
Noble, The, as represented in music,

294.
Nocturnal Sketch, 132.
Noise, as distinguished from music,

ig4, J95, 198, 226.
Nonsense Rhymes, 88, 115.
Nornes, Motive of, Wagner, 273.
Norton, C. E., 33.
Notation. See Music.
Notes. See Music.

336 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Noteworthy, The, as represented in

music, 266, 267, 275.
Novellette, 96.

Observations in Physiology of Spinal

Cord, 10.
Octave, 181, ig6, 198, 199, 202,

214.
Octaves, consecutive, 214.
Octometer, 33, 48.
Ode, The, 84, 85.
Ode on Imitations of Immortality,

85.
Old Continentals, The, 57.
On the Cliffs, 142.
Oratorios, 299.

Orator's Manual, 97, 251, 265.
Orchestral, why adds to enjoyment

of vocal music, 179.
Order, art-method, 3 ; in harmony,

musical, 189-208; poetic, 114,

116 ; in rhythm, 15, 92.
Organ, 295, 296 ; keys on, 204-206.
Organic form, art-method, 3 ; in

harmony, musical, 211 ; poetic,

120 ; in rhythm, 20.
Orpheus, lyre of, 200, 202.
Orotund quality, 293, 294, 296, 297.
O ruddier than a cherry, 298.
Othello, 113, 142.
Ott, Isaac, 10.
Outlines, 4.

Paganini, 319.

Painting, correlated toother arts, 4-
7; compared to poetry, no; in-
jured by a low conception of
significance in art, xviii, xix, xxii,
xxiii ; representation in, 234 ;
significance and form both need
considering, 236.

Palmer, J. W., 31, 173.

Palestrina, 190, 191.

Pantoum, 78, 79.

Paradise Lost, 31, 42, 49, 117, 125,
126, 130, 145, 149, 160, 166, 167.

Paradise Regained, 112, 115,

Parallelism, art-method, 3 ; Greek,
29 ; Hebrew, 29 ; in the couplet,
57, 95 ; in harmony, musical, 189,
190, 191, 210, 211 ; poetic, 146,

148, 149, 150, 154 ; in rhymes,
146 ; in rhythm, 30, 57, 95.

Parodie, A., 64.

Parsons, J. C, 79.

Partial, effects in art like, in complex
wholes, go with like, 53, 100, 117,
121, 138, 176, 177, 200, 209, 217,
228 ; tones, as developed in har-
mony, 208-210 ; as related to har-
monics, major and minor, 217-
219, 285 ; to poetic sounds, 169 ;
what they are, 198, 199.

Passion, as represented in music, 317.

Pastoral Symphonies, 299.

Pathetic, as represented in music,
282.

Pauses to breathe and rhythm, 46 ;
between poetic lines, 14, 15, 28 ;
musical phrases, 94, 95.

Payne, J. H., 271 ; J., 77, 76, 79,
83.

Peaceful Contemplation, as repre-
sented in music, 20S, 296.

Pectoral Quality of Voice, 293, 294,
298, 296.

Pensive, The, as represented in mu-
sic, 308.

Pentameter, 31-33, 37, 42 ; of blank
verse, 42, 45, 63.

Peri, G., 186.

Peril, as represented in music, 295.

Period, musical, 98, no; corre-
sponding to poetic stanza, 98-100,
105.

Petrarch, 71.

Philip, my king, 96.

Philosophic study of art, necessity
of, iv, V, ix.

Phonetic Gradation in Vowels, 163,
164; syzygy, 157.

Phrase, musical, gS, 99, 105 ; corre-
sponding to poetic line, 100.

Phrase of Nothung, M otive of, Wag-
ner, 290.

Physiological effects of musical
rhythm, 10, 11 ; of harmony,
221-228.

Physiologie der Menschlichen
Sprache, 170.

Pianoforte, keys and note, 204-
206, 297.

INDEX.

337

Pied Piper of Hamelin, The, 143.

Pinafore, 23, 88.

Pindar, 85.

Pindaric ode, 85.

Pitch, I, 5, 7, 57, 58, 91, 108 ; anal-
ogy between its use in music and
poetry, 168, 175-177, 180, 241;
as used differently in each, 180 ;
causes of different degrees of, log ;
elocutionary use of it, 251-253,
264-267, 274, 275, 280, 281 ; like
effects of, necessary in melody
and harmony, 176-220 ; produced
by vibrations, lOg, 195-198; repre-
sentative, 251-254, 264-290 ; use
of word in arts of sound, 5,6;
vowel-pitch, 69, 170.

Plato, 303.

Poe, 31, 46, 54, 56, 132, 160, 167.

Poet, The, 149.

Poetic Measures, distinguished from
musical, 91-96.

Poetry as a Representative Art, 4,
17, 28, 34, 44, 97, 102, 103, 136,
137, 169, 242, 251, 257.

Poetry, compared to painting, sculp-
ture, and other arts, 4-7, no;
classic, 21—23 ! distinguished from
music, 91-96 ; English as a lan-
guage for, 23, 24 ; form important
in, 11-17; Greeks intoned, 184;
grew out of, intonation, 243, 244 ;
harmony in, 107-177 ; necessity
of regarding both form and sig-
nificance in, xvii.-xix, xxi-xxiii,
236 ; representation in, 234 ;
rhythm in, 8-89, 102.

Pointing, as represented in music,
by use of pitch, away, 266, 274,
275 ; to, 266, 274, 275.

Polka, 104, 259.

Pollock, 112.

Polocca, 259.

Polonaise, 104, 105.

Polyphonic Music, l8g, 190.

Pope, 33, 105, 113, 116, 141.

Positive, The, as represented in mu-
sic, 266, 267, 270, 272, 275, 276,
286.

Potpourris, 105.

Power of Song, The, 246, 260, 298.

Practical, as connected with philo-
sophic study of art, iv, v, ix.

Praed, W. M., 55.

Praise of Dionysius, 84.

Prelude, The, 130.

Presentative Arts, 232.

Prime tones, 169, 198.

Principality, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, musical, Igo, 211 ; poetic,
120; in rhythm, 17-19, 54, 55,
92 ; in series of alliterations and
assonances, 143.

Primer of Musical Terms, 96, 98,
104.

Princess, The, 299.

Progress, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, musical, 212-217 ; poetic,
162, 166 ; in rhythm, 59-61 ; slow
and fast, as indicated by, 59-61.

Progress of Poetry, The, 85.

Proportion, i, 6, 7 ; as distinguished
from harmony, 108 ; and analo-
gous to rhythm, 108.

Protestant Church and the Rise of
Harmony, 190.

Psalm of Life, The, 45, 165.

Psychological Reasons for effects of
musical harmony, 221-228.

Psychology, American Journal of,
II. 305.

Pure Quality of Voice, 169, 293, 294,
296, 297.

Purgatorio, 124, 12g, 151.

Pursuit, Motive of, Wagner, 277.

Pythagoras, his scale, 187, 196, 203,
206.

Quadruple Measure, 28 ; with
double, for comic effects, 88.

Quality, i, 3, 5, 6, 7, 91, 108 ; elo-
cutionary, representing what, 252,
291-294 ; emotive effects repre-
sented by, 281, 2g2-2g4 ; causes
of differencein tone, 180, 181, 193-
198 ; like effects of, necessary in
chords and orchestras, 179 ;
termed, as used in arts of sight
and sound, 5, 6 ; uses in music
and poetry, i68-ig7, 241.

Quantity, as the basis of rhythm, 18 ;
of versification, 21-23 '> i" Greek

338 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

and English poetry, 21-24. See
Duration.

Queen Anne Style of Architecture,
237.

Questionable, The, as represented in
music, 266, 267, 269, 275, 286,
289.

Question of Fate, Motive of, Wag-
ner, 269.

Rainbow, Motive of, Wagner, 273.

Rainy Day, The, 65.

Raphael, xvii, xix, 236.

Rapidity of movement, how repre-
sented, in music, 254-263 ; in
verse, 59-61,

Rationale of Verse, The, 54.

Ratios in consonance, 1S7 ; in major
and minor chords, 131-135, 219,
220 ; in musical scales, 201-266 ;
in partial tones, 197.

Raven, The, 131, l6i.

Realization, as represented in music,
272.

Recitative, 185, 186.

Recitatives, 237.

Recitativos, l86.

Reflective method of expression,
252, 302.

Reformation, Protestant, its influ-
ence on rise of harmony, igo.

Refrain, The, in music and poetry,

95, 96-

Regularity, of accent as representa-
tive in music, 259, 260 ; of metre in
verse, 49, 50 ; of rhythm in music,
257, 258.

Religious, The, as represented in
music, 308.

Repetition, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, musical, 188,212; poetical,
139, 147, 148, 150; in rhythm, 17,
25> 38, 55 ; in intonation and tone,
187 ; in scale, 188 ; producing an
effect of likeness in thought, 139-

143. 153-
Representation, associative and imi-
tative, 242-244, 251-254, 301-320;
by analogy in poetry and music,
309, 310 ; of mind and nature go
together, 231, 232 ; of mind and

nature by music, 232, 241, 243,
247, 248 ; of series of emotions
by musical series, 303-317 ; of
thought and feeling, 231 ; of
thought and feeling by the har-
monic and inharmonic interval
and cadence, 281-286 ; of thought
by euphonious and non-euphonious
words, 116; melodic, historically
shown, 268 ; modern melodies as
manifesting, 26S, 269 ; through
elocutionary elements, 243, 244,
250-254 ; through elocutionary
duration, 254 ; through elocution-
ary force, 256 ; through elocution-
ary pitch, 264-267, 274 ; through
elocutionary quality, 291-294 ;
through elocutionary rhythm, 243,
244, 256, 257 ; through music,
237-322 ; through musical pitch,
264-290 ; through musical quality,
291-297 ; through musical rhythm,
including duration and pitch, 254—
263 ; when associative, musically
indicating accomplishment, 297 ;
admiration, 294, 296 ; affirmation,

266, 270, 275, 286 ; amazement,
294 ; anticipation, 266, 269-272,
275-277 ; 286, 289, 296 ; appro-
bation, 267 ; awe, 294 ; buoyancy,
257, 270, 2S1 ; certainty, 276:
complaining, 2S2 ; conclusiveness,

267, 270, 271, 275-277, 286, 289 ;
confidence, 258 ; contempt, 294 ;
courage, 294, 296 ; crying, 2S2 ;
danger, 287 ; decision, 266, 275-
277, 2S6 ; depression, 2S2, 302 ;
despair, 286 ; determination, 294,
296 ; dignity, 254-25S ; disap-
pointment, 289 ; disapprobation,
267 ; disturbance, 261 ; double-
entendre, 275 ; doubt, 260-267,
277, 30S ; earnestness, 256; elation,
302 ; energy, 256 ; enthusiasm, 270,
296 ; equivocacy, 275 ; exhilaration,
257 ; exuberance, 269 ; finality,
266 ; fretting, 282 ; fright, 294 ;
gentle contemplation, 256, 294 ;
God, 304 ; gratitude, 303 ; gravity,
254 ; healthfulness, 2S1 ; heroism,
289 ; hesitation, 260, 308 ; hope-

INDEX.

339

fulness, 270, 277, 286, 302 ; hope-
lessness, 282 ; horror, 294, 296 ;
hostility, 294, 295 ; indecision,
266, 267, 275, 277, 286, 289 ;
indifference, 256 ; indignation,
294 ; innuendo, 270-278 ; insig-
nificant, 266, 275, 286 ; insolvable,
286 ; interesting, 266, 267, 275,
286, 294 ; joy, 254, 269, 281, 286,
297, 303 ; lightness of mood, 254 ;
mildness, 256 ; mirthfulness, 254 ;
misery, 282 ; moaning, 282 ; mur-
der, 288 ; noteworthy, 266, 267,
275 ; passion, 317 ; peaceful con-
templation, 208, 296 ; peril, 295 ;
questionable, 266, 267, 269, 275,
286 , 289 ; rapidity, 254-263 ; re-
alization, 272 ; rest, 270 ; sar-
casm, 275, 278, 286 ; sadness, 282 ;
satire, 275, 278 ; satisfaction, 281-
2go ; scenes in nature, clouds,
moons, waves, woods, etc., 303-
309 ; self-assurance, 256 ; self-
control, 308 ; self-poise, 258 ;
seriousness, 254-308 ; size, 256 ;
solemnity, 296-308 ; solicitude,
294 ; strength, 256 ; sublimity,
308 ; subordination, 266, 275, 285 ;
surprise, 280, 282, 286, 294 ;
triumph, 258 ; turmoil, 261 ; un-
certainty, 276 ; unimpeded, the,

281 ; unsatisfactory, 282-290 ; ve-
hemence, 256 ; victory, 296 ;
weakness, 256, 281, 282 ; worship,
308 ; yielding, 259 ; when imita-
tive, musically indicating battles,
297 ; beasts' tread, 299 ; birds,
279, 297, 299, 307 ; buzz of in-
sects, 299 ; complaining, 282 ;
crying, 282 ; coughing, 279, 317 ;
controversy, 303—309 ; dog, 279 ;
elephant, 299 ; gracefulness, 259 ;
gliding, 259 ; hammering, 261 ;
hen, 279, 316 ; hesitation, 260,
308 ; laughter, 316 ; moaning,

282 ; rapidity, 254—263 ; rising,
273 ; rustling of leaves, 299 ;
sinking, 273 ; storm, 261, 297,

299 ; sleigh-ride, 297 ; slowness,
254-263 ; turmoil, 261 ; wailing,

300 ; whips, 297 ; whistles, 297 ;

wind, 297 ; yawning, 279, 289.
See Quality of musical instruments,
294-300.

Representative influence, of musical
motive, 97 ; of poetic measures,
28, 102.

Resignation, poem, 161 ; Motive of,
Wagner, 308.

Responsive methods of expression,
as in poetry, painting, and sculp-
ture, 234.

Rest, as represented in music, 270.

Rests, musical, 92-94.

Resultant notes formed by beats in
music, 224-226.

Reverence, as represented in music,
308.

Rhetoric, Aristotle's, 29 ; Bain's,
116.

Rhinegold, Motive of, Wagner, 286 ;
opera of, 255, 261-263, 273,^276,
277, 286, 288.

Rhythm and Harmony in Poetry and
Music, 1-228. 281, 285.

Rhythm, art-method, 1-3, 6, 7 ; an
artistic end in itself, 10, 90, 91 ;
basis in measures, not quantity or
numbers of syllables, but accent,
17, 18 ; connection between, and
tune in music, 253, 254 ; also in
poetry, 61, 172-174; defined, 53 ;
effects distinguished from those of
harmony, and likened to those of
proportion, 108 ; effects likened
to those of tone, 222, 223 ; ex-
periments to prove mental effects
of, 11-13 ; forming groups of
clicks, 11-13; including duration
and force, 6, 21, 253, 257 ; in
music, 90-106 ; in nature, g, 10 ;
in nervous action, 10 ; in poetry,
1-89 ; in poetry as distinguished
from music, 91-96 ; in poetry,
caused by accent, 20 ; in prose,
20; main factor of musical motives,
96, 97 ; methods of indicating, suf-
ficient for our music, 106 ; musical
ear not necessary for appreciation
of, 105, 106 ; origin of, 8, 248 ;
primitive, 8 ; representation in,
256-263 ; when regular and

340 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

strongly accented, 257, 258 ; when
unusually accented, 259 ; when
varied and slightly accented, 260.

Rhythmic and Metric of the Classic
Languages, The, 22, 29.

Rhythmic possibilities of different
forms of verse, 6o-8g.

Rhyme, I2i, 131-135, 145, 148,
162, 176 ; effects of, 133-135 ;
emphasized by change in the num-
ber of syllables regularly ending
lines, 45 ; first use in English,
133 ; laws of, 133-135 ; near to-
gether give an effect of rapidity,
60 ; objections to use of it, 136,
137; parallelism of effect increased
by, 146 ; Roman and Greek use
of, accidental, 133 ; when origi-
nated, 133.

Richard II., 130, 157 ; III., 126,
157, 158.

Right of Expiation, Motive of, Wag-
ner, 288.

Ring of the Nibelung, 255.

Rising up, as represented in music,
273.

Rising Treasure, 273.

Rogers, J. D., 303.

Romans, 186, 268.

Romanticism and classicism, x-xv.

Roman Versification, 22-24.

Romeo and Juliet, 113, 157.

Rondeau, 75.

Rondeau Redouble, 76, 77.

Rondel, 74, 75.

Rossini, 296.

Roundel, 75, 76.

Rubens, xix, 236.

Rustling of leaves, as represented
in music, 299.

Rymours of Normandy, 133.

Sachs, H., 297.

Sadness, as represented in music, 282

Sarcasm, as represented in music,

275, 278, 286.
Satire, as represented in music, 275,

278. '

Satisfaction, as represented in music,

281-290.
Scale, the musical, 181-187 ; and

phonetic gradation, 164 ; Chinese,
203 ; formation of Greek, 185-
188, 193, 199-201, 203, 204, 206;
major, 200, 206, 208 ; minor, 200,
206, names of notes of, 187, 188 ;
Pythagorean, 187, 203, 206 ; tem-
perate, 205, 206 ; why the notes
are pitched as they are, 199-206.
Schiller, xvii, xxiii, 124, 129, 161,

235-

Schmidt, 22, 29.

Schnoor, J., 236.

Schopenhauer, 303,

Schumann, 96, 97, 248, 303.

Science of English verse, 51.

Scott, Sir W., 32, 33, 43, 56, 105,
113, 130, 155, 157.

Scribe, xvii.

Sculpture, as influenced by disre-
gard of significance, xix— xxii ;
correlated to other arts, 4—7 ;
compared to poetry, no.

Section, musical, 98, 100 ; corre-
sponding to poetic couplet, 98—
100.

Self-assurance, as represented in
music, 256.

Self-control, as represented in music,
308.

Self-poise, as represented in music.

Sensations of tone, as a physiological
basis for the theory of music, 91,
170, 185, 194, 201, 244.

Sense, as represented by sound, 116,

153-

September, 75.

Series of emotions, as represented in
music, 303-315.

Seriousness, as represented in music,
254, 308.

Sestina, 82, 83.

Setting, art-method, 3 ; in harmony,
musical, 212 ; poetic, 114 ; in
rhythm, 19.

Sevens and sixes metre, 68.

Sevens metre, 62.

Sevens, sixes, and eights metre, 68.

Seventh, chord of, 211, 218 ; repre-
sentative effects of, 283-290.

Shakespeare, 31, 43, 51, 52, 112,

INDEX.

341

H3, Ii6, 126, 130, 133, 137, 152,
153. 156-158, 165, 166 ; his use
of run-on lines, 51, 52.

Sharp, musical sign of, 183, 184 ;
notes for, 205.

Shelley, 64, 132.

Short metre, 6i ; hallelujah, 65.

Shout of Fairies, Motive of, Wagner,
278.

Sicilian Octave, 83.

Siegfried, opera of, 277, 287, 296,
299 ; Motive of, Wagner, 288.

Sieglinde, Motive of, Wagner, 289.

Significance in art, importance of,
xv-xxiii, 232-237.

Sincerity in art, 236.

Singing, contrasted vifith speech, 239-
244 ; the Greek, 184, 185, i8g.

Sinking, as represented in music, 273.

Siren of C. de la Tour, ig6.

Sistine Madonna, xvii.

Sixes and fours metre, 67.

Size, as represented in music, 256.

Sketches of Palestine, III.

Skylark, To the, 64.

Sleep, To, 72.

Sleigh-ride, as represented in music,
277.

Slowness of movement, as repre-
sented in elocution, 254 ; in music,
253—263 ; in verse, 44, 59, 60.

Smith, S. T., 67.

Snake, Motive of, Wagner, 262.

Sneezing, as represented in music,

313. 379-
Soldiers' Chorus, 296,
Solemnity, as represented in music,

296, 308.
Solfeggio, 188-206.
Solicitude, as represented in music,

294.
Sonata in C, 99 ; in B minor, 97 ; in

E minor, 260.
Song. See Singing.
Song of Clan- Alpine, 56.
Song of Italy, A, 127.
Song on Downfall and Death of

Earl of Warwick, 123.
Songs from Arcady, 75.
Sonnet, 70-73 ; its Origin, Structure,

and Place in Poetry, 71.

Souvenir, 123.

Sounds, musical, distinguished from
noise, 194, 195 ; congruity of, in-
dicating that of sense, 139-143.

Spain, alliteration in poetry of, 124 ;
also assonance, 129, 131; the latter
as used for rhyme, 131.

Spanish Gypsy, 131.

Speech, difference between it and
singing, 239-244 ; difference be-
tween its tones and those of music,
195-197, 237-244 ; methods of, as
influencing song and music, 91,
92, 97, 239-244 ; pitch in, 169-
177.

Spenser, 24, 69, 71, 116, 126, 130,

134, 151, 153, 154-
Spenserian, Stanza, 36, 37, 69, 71.
Spondaic, 36.
Spondee, 27.
Spontaneous methods of expression

in music and architecture, 234,

240.
Spring, it is cheery, 66.
Spring sadness, 83.
Stabat Mater, 191.
Staff, musical, 94, 182, 183.
St. Agnes Eve, 69.
Stanza, 57 ; corresponding to musi-

calperiods, 97-100 ; definite types

of, 67-70 ; different forms of, 61-

89.
Stennet, 61.
St. Gaudens, xxi.
St. John, Hymn to, 188.
Storm, as represented in music, 261,

297, 299 ; Motive of, Wagner, 298.
Strength, as represented in music,

256.
Studies from Biological Laboratory

of Johns Hopkins University, 10.
Style, relative importance in music

and architecture, as contrasted

with other arts, no.
Subdorainant, chord of, 210, 211

214, 215.
Sublime, The, as represented in

music, 308.
Subject, in Painting and sculpture

may interest aside from style, I ID.

See Significance.

342 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Subjective method of expression in
song and music, 240, 241., 247, 248.

Subordination, art-method, 3 ; in
harmony, musical, igo, 211 ;
poetic, 120, 143 ; in rhythm, 19,

55, 92.
Subordination, as represented by

music, 266, 275, 286.
Sullivan, 237, 300.
Sunrise, 48.
Surprise, as represented in music,

280, 282, 286, 294.
Sustained methods of expression in

music and architecture, 234, 239-

242.
Syllables, accented, 5, 18, 20-24 ;

changes in the numbers of, in lines,

39, 48 ; changes in, at the ends of

lines, 44-48 ; unaccented, 18, 20-

24.
Sylvester, Pope, 186, 267 ; Prof., 157.
Symmetry, art-method, 3, 20, 212.
Symphony, description of the plan

of a, 310, 311 ; in C minor, 311.
System of English Versification, 70.
Svfinburne, iv, xvi, xxi, xxii, 32, 33,

47, 48, 127, 142, 148, 150, 152,

165, 236.
Sword, Motive of, Wagner, 286.
Sword's Guardian, Motive of, Wag-
ner, 287.

Tale of the Man of Law, 67.

Tannhauser, 297.

Taming of the Shrew, 158.

Tarantelle, 104, 105.

Tasso, 6, 71, 190.

Tell, Wm., 296.

Tennyson, 20, 40, 47, 48, 50, 61, 62,

118, 127, 131, 144, 149, 152, 157-

159, 165, 174, 299, 304-
Tens metre, 63.
Tens and elevens metre, 63.
Terminal Measure, 27, 28, 39, 40,

61-67.
Terpander, 203.

Tetrameter, 31-33, 47, 62-64, 66.
Thackeray, 45.
The Great Bell Roland, 32.
The Harp that once through Tara's

Halls, 271.

Theory of musical education, 105.

The Story of Prince Agib, 86.

Thomas E. M., 78.

Thought, as represented in art, 231.

Thoughtfulness, as represented in
music, 308 ; Motive of, Wagner,
288.

Thread and Song, 31, 193.

Threatening, as represented in
music, 276, 287.

Thunder, as represented by music,
297, 299.

Timbre, 180. See Quality.

Time. See Duration.

Timon, of Athens, 152.

Tintern Abbey, 304.

Titian, 236.

To Cyriaclc Skinner, 71.

Tomlinson, 71.

Tone, difference between poetic and
musical, 175-177; color-effects so
termed, 6, 107. See Quality.

Tones, prime and partial, 169, 170,
198-200, 208-210, 217-219, 285.

Tonic, chord of, 210, 211, 214, 215.

Tout a la Joie, 258.

Transition, art-method, 3 ; in har-
mony, musical, 212-217 ; poetic,
162, 166, 167 ; in rhythm and
metre, 59 ; to one key from
another, 214—217.

Triad, major, 217-220, 225 ; minor,
218-220, 225.

Trifling, as represented in music,
254-

Trimeter, 31, 32, 47, 62.

Triple measure, 26-28, 39, 40 ; com-
bined with double, for comic
effects, 86 ; corresponding to ef-
fects of curves, 58 ; musical, 101.

Tristan, Motive of, Wagner, 289.

Tristan und Isolde 254, 256, 289,
296.

Trite, The, as represented in music,
266, 267, 286.

Triumph, as represented in music,
25S.

Trochaic measure, 31, 33, 62-67.

Trochee, 27, 31.

Troilus and Cressida, 130.

Troubadours of Provence, 133.

INDEX.

343

Troubled Sleep, as represented in
music, 300 ; chorus of, from
lolanthe, 300.

Trumpet, 295, 296.

Tunes of melody, developed from
intonation, 186 ; of poetry and
music, 6, 241 ; including pitch of
verse, 57-59. I70-I77-

Turmoil, as represented in music,
261.

Turner, C. T., 73.

Twelfth Night, 158.

Twelves metre, 64.

Two Gentlemen of Verona, 158.

Two Voices, 61, 165.

Unaccented syllables, 18, 20-24, 39.

48 ; must differ in sound from

accented, 118-120, 172, 173.
Uncertainty, as represented in

music, 276.
Underwoods, 137.
Unimpeded, The, as represented in

music, 281.
Unity, art-method, 3 ; in harmony,

musical, 179, 185, 211 ; poetic,

139, 144 ; in rhythm, 15, 38, 92,

no. III, 113.
Unsatisfactory effects, as represented

in music, 282-290.
Unsustained expression as in poetry,

painting, and sculpture, 234, 239,

240.
Upward and downward movement

of pitch on words owing to

accent, 57, 58, 172, 173.
Utterances of speech and song, 239-

248.

Van Raalte, A., 305.

Variety, art-method, 3, in harmony,
musical, 179, poetical,i37-l6i ; in
rhythm, 16, 38, 39 ; in versifica-
tion, of measure and line, 38-92 ;
musical, 103.

Vega, Lope de, 124, 129.

Vehemence, as represented in music,
256.

Venice, 262.

Venus and Adonis, 66.

Venus music in Tannhauser, 297.

Verse, blank, 37, 42-44 ; Chinese,
79, 80 ; French forms of, 72-84 ;
irregular blank verse, 42-44.

Versification, caused by accent or
quality, 21-24 I English, compared
with classic methods of, 21-24.

Vibrations, as causing harmony of
sound and color, 108, 109 ; causing
musical pitch, 194-198 ; forms of,
as causing quality, ig6, 197 ;
psychological and physical reasons
for their musical effects, 221-228 ;
regularly recurring, causing musi-
cal sounds, 194, 195.

Victory, as represented in music,
296.

Villanelle, 77, 78.

Vindictive League, motive of,
Wagner, 288.

Violin, what it represents, 295, 297,
299.

Virelai, 83.

Virgil, 34, 123, 128, 133, 150.

Vision of Piers Plowman, 125.

Wace, 129, 133.

Waddington, S., 96.

Wagner, 186, 237, 254, 261, 263,

269, 276-278, 286-289, 296, 297,

321-323.
Wailing, as represented in music,

300 ; chorus from lolanthe, 300.
Waldteufel, E., 259, 260.
Walhall, Motive of, Wagner, 286,

287.
Walker's Rhyming Dictionary, 125,

140,
WalkUre, Motive of, Wagner, 261 ;

opera, 261, 270, 276, 287, 289,

297.
Walsungen family, Motive of,

Wagner, 289.
Waltz, 104, 260.

Wandering Knight's Song, The, 41.
Water, Motive of, Wagner, 262.
Watts, 62.
Watson, J. W., 31.
Wave, or circumflex inflection, rep-
resentation of, 274, 275. _
Weakness, as represented in music

256, 281, 282.

344 RHYTHM AND HARMONY IN POETRY AND MUSIC.

Weber, 105, 316.

Welcome, The, 174.

Werner's Magazine, 305.

Wesley, C, 62.

West, B., 236.

Wheeler, G. P., 114.

Whips, as represented in music, 297.

Whistle, and I '11 come to you, 174.

Whistles, as represented in music,

297.
Whitman, W., xxi, xxii, 11 1.
Willems, F., 236.

William of Cloudsley, Ballad of, 131.
Wind, as represented in music, 297.
Winter's Tale, The, 51.
Wishes for the Supposed Mistress, 6 1 .

Wolzogen, H. von, 255, 297.
Wordsworth, xvii, 50, 71, 72, 85,

130, 173. 304-
Worship, as represented in music,

308.
Writer, The, 114.
Wyatt, T., 46, 47.

Yawning, as represented in music,

279, 289, 317.
Yerrington, E. M., 305.
Yielding effect, as represented in

music, 259.

Zola, xviii.