only relative and are suspended because they belong to the rising part of the period (especially the latter, which belongs to the second stage of the rising scale); only in the concluding sentence is the fall an absolute one. In general, every depression is lower, the nearer it leaves the sense complete, i.e. the greater the whole is which it terminates, and vice

versa.

This is the melody of speech, which was above simply shown to belong to the logical accent, but which is made complete only by the co-operation of the logical and the rhythmical principle, in which also is alone to be found the full notion of accent. Properly to express or render this melody is the business of elocution or declamation. On account of the manifold shades in the accent-which image forth the logical relations of the sense this melody is richer than that of music; but its extreme high and low tones even in the most elevated intonation of rhetorical feeling are confined within smaller intervals of the musical scale, and its tones can accordingly no more be represented musically (by notes) than can these gradations or intervals. Not till rhetorical tones rise into musical tones does the voice rise and fall in intervals that are strictly musical.1

1 This relation did not escape the old Greek and Latin grammarians and rhetoricians, who exhibit in general, concerning everything relating to language and oratory (both as to essence and form), an accuracy and delicacy of observation, a perspicuity and definiteness of conception, which forms a mortifying contrast with the crudeness with which our modern (especially German) grammarians and writers view and treat their language. The most accurate treatment of it is to be found in Dionysius (Halicarn.), De Compositione verborum, chap. xi. (ed. Schaefer), p. 126, where he reckons the melody of an ordinary speech to embrace five notes, with the additional remark that it does not rise more than three and a half tones in the ascending; nor fall more than this in the descending scale : “ ἑνὶ μετρεῖται διαστήματι, τῷ λεγομένῳ διάπεντε (as opposed to the musical octave, called διὰ πασῶν) ὡς ἔγγιστα· καὶ οὔτε ἐπετείνεται πέρα τῶν τριῶν τόνον καὶ ἡμιτονίου ἐπὶ τὸ ὄξυ (rising slide), οὔτε ἀνιέναι τοῦ χωρίου τουτοῦ πλεῖον ild Bapú (falling slide). Dionysius treats minutely of the musical intervals (p. 130,) where he correctly defines the difference between musical melody (opyavikh kal ydikh povoa, i.e. instrumental and vocal music) and the melody of speech by saving that it τὰς λέξεις τοῖς μέλεσιν ὑποτάττειν ἄξιοι, καὶ οὐ τὰ μέλη ταῖς Aéteow (i.e. that here the rhythmico-musical element sudordinates the logical

This leads now to the further question: What is the relation of the rhythm of common speech just considered, to that of poetry, or rhythmical discourse properly so called (of the numerosa oratio to the numeris adstricta); what is the relation of the melody of speech to strict melody, or that of song; and how does the latter grow out of the former? For if, as we have seen, rhythm and melody are not peculiarly the ornament of poetry and song, but belong by a general law to all human speech, how does it happen that men generally attribute them only to poetic language, and call it (exclusively or pre-eminently)" rhythmical," in contradistinction to ordinary language, as though the latter were unrhythmical and irregular (prosa numeris soluta)? And if this, as being an error or an inaccuracy, needs no further consideration, why is poetry characterized by a rhythm so much more regular and palpable than that of prose, by a rhythm which even in its external features is so unmistakable, and strikes every one's eye and ear by the form of the words themselves and the sentences, (also in writing outwardly represented by breaks or lines), as well as by the whole movement of the thought, all of which are throughout shaped according to a definite rhythmi

element, whereas in the former the rhythm and melody must accommodate themselves to the meaning and the logical relations); and then he gives an example of the deviation of the musical pronunciation from the ordinary intonation (διαφορὰ ἡ διαφέρει μουσική, sc. ᾠδή λογική) in a passage from Euripides. P. 135 he expresses the character of the melody of ordinary language (μéλos pwvhs xhs) as distinguished from song (duh) by apt adjectives: it is, he says, εὐμελές not ἐμμελές, εὔρυθμον not ἔρρυθμον (canora, but not cantus; numerosa, but not numeris adstricta). Cf. also the fine observations on rhetorical rhythm, and its difference from the poctical, in Cicero, De Oratore iii. 43 sq., and especially in the Orator, chap. 16-20, 41-71. In modern literature I have found the above proposition, that language has far finer intervals, and hence a much richer "octave" (?) than song, in G. v. Seckendorff's Vorlesungen über Declamation und Mimik, i. 55-58; the best work on declamation that I am acquainted with; the author was, as a practical speaker, a celebrated virtuoso. He considers language and declamation in general, especially from p. 116 on, constantly from its musical principle and in correct relation to musical melody. Only the ground of the relation to the musical tone is sought too one-sidedly in the strength of it. It will be seen below that the musical tone is specifically (qualitatively different from that of speech, and arises from a peculiar intonation.

cal law and set form, and which seem to constitute the specific difference between poetry and prose? Is rhythm in this form and application nothing but an arbitrary, artificial ornament and embellishment of poetry? or is it the product of a law of human nature, the natural utterance of a particular state of the human mind, as was above demonstrated with regard to rhythm in general? If, now, only the latter can be assumed, what is the law or impulse of human nature which produces such a rhythm, and what is that state of the mind which naturally expresses itself in it? The question likewise presents itself: Of what mental state is song the natural utterance rather than common language, and how are its particular tones formed? To this more intricate question a full answer to which would require a more extended anthropological investigation than I can here enter upon we devote a brief discussion in conclusion.1

Although rhythm, as a fundamental law of human speech, cannot be lacking in any kind of discourse, it is yet susceptible of very different degrees of development and cultivation. It is more prominent and distinct, the more forcibly the voice pronounces its intonations and, as it were, swells its waves, and thus increases the force and momentum of the movement; for then its elevations and depres sions are separated more widely from each other and thus come more decidedly to balance one another, just as the wave rises the higher, the greater the quantity of water and the force which sets it in motion. This strength of intonation or of the undulation of the voice may indeed be arbitrarily produced, but it is naturally the effect of an elevated state of the mind; primarily, of a state of excitement or emotion, which raises the undulation of the blood, and hence increases the force of the voice, as well as of all other vital manifestations. But this only to a certain point. An intellectual element must interpose, by which the emotion is kept from breaking out into a wild tumult, controlled and con

1 Cf. in the Appendix to my Psalms Vol. iv. (Untersuchung der Psalmensammlung überhaupt), § 6, where this is somewhat more minutely treated.

ducted in a particular direction, and thus brought into a regular undulation; so that the modulation of the voice flows. from a similar movement of the soul. Now this is the case in the poetic mood or enthusiasm. This is that state of the mind in which emotional excitement is produced by a poetic idea, i.e. by a conception which rouses the feelings and at the same time attracts to itself the intellectua lcontemplation, thus occupying at once both the intellect and the feelings; a state, therefore, in which neither the one nor the other onesidedly sways the soul, but each permeates the other, and is thus held in balance; in which consequently the excited fountain of emotion, curbed and guided by the intellectual element of thought, is brought into an undulatory, vibratory (i.e. rhythmical) motion, swinging, as it were, upon which the soul can pour out its feelings and meditations in no other way than in wave-like or symmetrical (i.e. rhythmical) sentences.1

This rhythmical movement of the soul in the poetic mood seizes the whole man with irresistible force, and hence expresses itself through all the human organs which are capable of movement or activity, external or internal, bodily or mental. Externally (physically), in the first place, by the rhythmical movement of the feet, and accompanied by corresponding movements of the whole body, i.e. by dancing, in its original significance - the rudest and most expressive utterance of the poetic mood in a state of nature. Next by rhythmico-musical tones or sounds of the voice, i.e. by singing, which even without words serves to express poetic moods, especially joyous moods. This is an elevation or intensification of common language, yet specifically different from it, i.e. not only in the degree of force, but also in the kind of intonation. Its tones arise not only from the stronger intonation of the voice (which is produced also in crying or shouting in a still greater degree, yet without becoming song), but also from the peculiar swell and oscillation which the

1 This may be both psychologically and physically more particularly shown; but there is no space for it here (vid. my Psalms, as quoted p. 21, note).

voice assumes, in a noticeable undulation, on which the voice pours out distinctly vibratory (elastic) tones, which rise and fall at great intervals, i.e. musical tones. Song can, it is true, be at any time arbitrarily produced; but, as a free and natural utterance, it is exclusively characteristic of the poetic mood, and is its specific language, so that this mood may be properly defined and illustrated by designating it as the mood in which one" sings." These tones and strains, when produced by an instrument, instead of by the voice, give us instrumental music, which is likewise primarily an expression of the poetic mood. This mood finds its most spiritual expression, when it gives utterance not only to a general, vague feeling in rude tones of melody or music, but to a definite idea, consisting of distinct notions, in words, i.e. in song. This is poetry in its full development, i.e. brought before the consciousness and spiritually transfigured, and is the most perfect expression of the poetic mood. This mood manifests itself most strikingly in the union and harmonious co-operation of all the three modes of expression - dancing, music, and singing, as it is found among people in a state of nature; but this union is natural and feasible only at a certain stage of cultivation; when this is passed, music and singing are separated from dancing; instrumental, further, from vocal music; and song becomes a mere poem not to be sung. By this separation the several arts receive more cultivation, but are in danger of becoming too artificial and of degenerating, i.e. of passing beyond the bounds of the truly poetical, of being removed from their original source, and of forgetting their proper nature and design. In so far, however, as singing and dancing are an expression of poetic feeling, which consists in a rhythmical, undulatory movement of the soul, the law of their movement and their essential character must consist in the parallelism of their members. This parallelism, however, is susceptible of various degrees of development, according as it relates to the larger series or the smaller members of the series. This is most clearly

1 Cf. Herder, Spirit of Heb. Poetry, ii. 7, p. 266 sq.