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.c. 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.

1

seen in the dance, where either the only discernible rhythm consists in parallel rows (circular dance, chorus) as in the dances of rude people and the old national dances of Germany, which dramatically represent a poetic mood, situation or experience of the human heart and life, and so involve the soul of dance without measuring off its separate movements; or the movement is likewise rhythmically regulated and divided off, down to its smallest parts, the single steps, by the constant return of a uniform parallelism of the step, i.e. by the alternation of heavy and light treads in the same measure; or, finally, there remains nothing but the dancing steps without any larger rows, and so without expressing any poetic thought (body without soul), like our waltzes, etc. The same distinctions are to be seen in the rhythm of music and of other tones (e.g. of the drum), which must assert itself not only in the minutiae, by means of the so-called measure, i.e. the constant recurrence of the parallelism of accented and unaccented tones, but also on a larger scale, by means of the parallelism of the musical strains and periods. And this is found in its most perfect and noble form in poetic utterance, in song. This, as a marrying of the inward with the outward, of thought with tones or words, includes two methods by which the poetic mood expresses itself, therefore a twofold rhythm. First, an inward rhythm, that of the thoughts themselves. For since the essence of the poetic mood consists in a regular undulation of excited feeling, the course of poetic thought must also be undulatory, consequently must consist in a continuous parallelism of thoughts and sentences. This is the soul of poetry and the foundation of all rhythm. This inner rhythm, or rhythm of the thoughts, manifests itself outwardly in language (song) in gradations similar to those of the rhythm of dancing and of music. At first it only brings the larger series, the sentences and periods, into parallelism, making verses and strophes, the latter sometimes outwardly represented by responding choruses (Heb. of the chorus, Exod. xv. 21; 1 Sam. xviii. 7). This is the oldest and most essential form of

rhythm, further than which the poetry of the Old Testament did not get. In modern poetry it is distinguished by rhyme, i.e. by the similar sound of the termination of the corresponding series, in order to make the parallelism strike the ear more distinctly. Or the separate words and syllables are also rhythmically regulated (syllabic rhythm) by the regular recurrence of the undulation of elevated and depressed syllables ("foot," pes, more correctly, verse-step, analogous to the dancing-step, pas, from passus); in which case the syllables are either measured according to their length (metre), or only counted, with or without regard to the verbal accent. This is the most perfect rhythm: a thoroughgoing division of articulate language from the largest down to the smallest parts. Descending (analytically) it is attained by a continued dichotomy or dissection of the periods (of the verse), by means of an incision in the middle (the so-called caesura of classical prosody), into parallel members or antitheses, then into hemistiches, then into dipodies (parallel double steps). Then, in an ascending direction, the verses are united into groups of verses (strophes), first into distiches, then into various other combinations; but everywhere is parallelism. Even when the rhythm in all its gradations and forms is tripartite (compound), the fundamental law of parallelism, or of the antithesis of two members, is not abolished; because then two parts always stand over against a third, often in the completed form of thesis, antithesis, and synthesis, which seeks to reconcile the opposition in a higher unity.1 And as there are dances which consist merely in dancing-steps

1 The same law appears in the region of visible things as the law of symmetry - a fundamental condition of every manifestation and form of the beautiful, the perfect analogue of rhythm for the ear, not transferred from the latter to the eye, but proceeding from the same fundamental law of human life. And whence the bewitching charm which everything that conforms to this law has for us? Whence in particular the wonderful power of music over man, celebrated even in the myths of antiquity? What is there in it that makes us so proud and buoyant and quickens every pulse? It is not the tickling effect of the tones, but its rhythm, which, proceeding from the quickened pulse of the source of our life, excite the same pulsation of elevated life in every hearer; it rests therefore on agreement with the law of our life.

VOL. XXIV. No. 93.

which are not united into larger choral dances, so there is a rhythm in speech which prevails only in the separate words and their syllables without extending to the sentences and periods, as, e.g. when one writes prose in iambics.1

Next to poetry, the language of elevated oratory presents the most marked and distinct development of rhythm. It too flows from an excited, elevated mood (so-called pathos); but, in so far as the stimulating idea is a general truth or a moral good, it seeks to fill others with enthusiasm for it and incite them to action; hence it aims at an effect on the outer world, and serves accordingly an intelligent design; whereas poetry proper has no other end than to discharge the contents of its feelings in words, and thus to satisfy itself. In case of preponderating emotion, at the highest point of oratorical enthusiasm, the language will rise into almost the musical flow and rhythm of that of poetry, and will advance in parallel sentences, nay, even periods, which, as a general rule, are distinguished from those of lyric poetry only by a greater fulness in thought and expression (so with the prophets or orators of the Old Testament). When the intellectual element preponderates, on the other hand, it will approximate to prose, and the rhythm or parallelism peculiar to every elevated mood will manifest itself only in a more free and unconstrained form, in a general striving after parallelism and fulness of expression, sonorousness in the final words, etc. (so-called oratorical numerus); while at the same time. the increased strength of the voice calls up the logical antitheses involved in every discourse, and finely unfolds them. in series of sounds rhythmically controlled, i.e. as much as possible made to balance each other. In ordinary discourse, or so-called common prose, where, in the total lack of emotional excitement, the stream of the discourse glides along calmly and without any visible undulation, so that in it the

1 These various grades of rhythm, as also the analogy of dancing, have been already pointed out by De Wette in the Introd. to his Commentary on the Psalms, § viii., where in general excellent observations on rhythm are to be found.

logical members and antitheses sink and disappear, rhythm seems to be wholly wanting, and it is generally designated, in distinction from poetry and rhetorico-rhythmical prose, as unrhythmical. But, as has been already observed, this is only relatively correct. In fact there is rhythm here as well as accent, but in such fine and obscure gradations that they are for the ear scarcely perceptible. But the concealed rhythm of prose discloses itself at once, as soon as the voice pronounces stronger intonations, and by this means all prose, even the most speculative and profound, may be spoken and read in perfect rhythm (in which case, to be sure, there is presented a ridiculous incongruity of matter and delivery). Such a rhythmical elocution, and that too, of the most solemn kind, has become customary among the Jews, as also among other people, especially in reading the scriptures, all parts of them, even the purely historical. And after it had for a long time been verbally handed down as an acquired art of the prelectors and grammarians, it finally received a fixed designation in the text of the sacred books, as we find it now in the manuscripts of the Old Testament. To prepare the way for a correct understanding of this, is the object of this investigation.

EXCURSUS.

The rhythmical law manifests itself, in the first place, in the position of the accent, i.e. in the determination of the syllable which it shall affect. Here the general rule holds, that the verbal accent, without regard to the position of the root, rests, even in the longest word, only on one of the three last syllables, and according to the quantity or length of the two last. If these are both short, the accent rests on the antepenultimate; if both are long, or even only one of them (in Greek it is the last, in Latin the next to the last), on the penultimate (on the accent on the last syllable, see below); and afterwards the tone moves forwards and backwards. E.g. Greek: στόματος, στομάτων; ἄνθρω πος, ἀνθρώπων; τύπτω, ἔτυπον, ἐτυπέτην. Latin: Macedo,