"I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for, not without dust and heat.”* Down to "virtue," the current s and R are both announced and repeated unobtrusively, and by way of a grace-note that almost inseparable group PVF is given entire.† The next phrase is a period of repose, almost ugly in itself, both s and R still audible, and в given as the last fulfilment of PVF. In the next four phases, from " that never" down to " run for," the mask is thrown off, and but for a slight repetition of the r and v, the whole matter turns, almost too obtrusively, on s and R; first s coming to the front, and then R. In the concluding phrase all these favourite letters, and even the flat A, a timid preference for which is just perceptible, are discarded at a blow and in a bundle; and to make the break more obvious, every word ends with a dental, and all but one with T, for which we have been cautiously prepared since the beginning. The singular dignity of the first clause, and this hammer-stroke of the last, go far to make the charm of this exquisite sentence. But it is fair to own that s and R are used a little coarsely. Here I have put the analysis of the main group alongside the lines; and the more it is looked at, the more interesting it will seem. But there are further niceties. In lines two and four, the current s is most delicately varied with z. In line three, the current flat a is twice varied with the open A, already suggested in line two, and both times ("where" and "sacred") in conjunction with the current R. In the same line r and v (a harmony in themselves, even when shorn of their comrade P) are admirably contrasted. And in line four there is a marked subsidiary м, which again was announced in line two. I stop from weariness, for more might yet be said. My next example was recently quoted from Shakespeare as an example of the poet's colour sense. Now, I do not think literature has anything to do with colour, or poets anyway the better of such a sense; and I instantly attacked this passage, since "purple" was the word that had so pleased the writer of the article, to see if there might not be some literary reason for its use. It will be seen that I succeeded amply; and I am bound to say I think the passage * MILTON. + As PVF will continue to haunt us through our English examples, take, by way of comparison, this Latin verse, of which it forms a chief adornment, and do not hold me answerable for the all too Roman freedom of the sense: "Hanc volo, quæ facilis, e palliolata vagatur." COLERIDGE. exceptional in Shakespeare-exceptional, indeed, in literature; but it was not I who chose it. The BaRge she sat in, like a BURNished throNe *per It may be asked why I have put the F of perfumèd in capitals; and I reply, because this change from P to F is the completion of that from в to P, already so adroitly carried out. Indeed, the whole passage is a monument of curious ingenuity; and it seems scarce worth while to indicate the subsidiary s, L and w. In the same article, a second passage from Shakespeare was quoted, once again as an example of his colour sense: "A mole cinque-spotted like the crimson drops I' the bottom of a cowslip."+ It is very curious, very artificial, and not worth while to analyse at length: I leave it to the reader. But before I turn my back on Shakespeare, I should like to quote a passage, for my own pleasure, and for a very model of every technical art : But in the wind and tempest of her frown, W. P. V. F. (st) (ow)‡ W. P. F. L W. F. L. M. Ă.¦ V. L. M. From these delicate and choice writers I turned with some curiosity to a player of the big drum-Macaulay. I had in hand the twovolume edition, and I opened at the beginning of the second volume. Here was what I read: "The violence of revolutions is generally proportioned to the degree of the maladministration which has produced them. It is therefore not strange that the government of Scotland, having been during many years greatly more corrupt than the government of England, should have fallen with a far heavier ruin. The movement against the last king of the house of Stuart was in England conservative, in Scotland destructive. The English complained not of the law, but of the violation of the law." This was plain-sailing enough; it was our old friend PVF, floated by the liquids in a body; but as I read on, and turned the page, and still found PVF with his attendant liquids, I confess my mind misgave me utterly. This could be no trick of Macaulay's; it must be the nature of the English tongue. In a kind of despair, I turned halfway through the volume; and coming upon his lordship dealing with General Cannon, and fresh from Claverhouse and Killiekrankie, here, with elucidative spelling, was my reward: "Meanwhile the disorders of Kannon's Kamp went on inкreasing. He Kalled a Kouncil of war to Konsider what Kourse it would be advisable to "Antony and Cleopatra." + "Cymbeline." § "Troilus and Cressida." take. But as soon as the Kouncil had met a preliminary Kuestion was raised. The army was almost eksklusively a Highland army. The recent viktory had been won eksklusively by Highland warriors. Great chiefs who had brought siks or seven hundred fighting men into the field, did not think it fair that they should be outroted by gentlemen from Ireland and from the Low Kountries, who bore indeed King James's Kommission, and were Kalled Kolonels and Kaptains, but who were Kolonels without regiments and Kaptains without Kompanies." A moment of Fv in all this world of K's! It was not the English language, then, that was an instrument of one string, but Macaulay that was an incomparable dauber. It was probably from this barbaric love of repeating the same sound, rather than from any design of clearness, that he acquired his irritating habit of repeating words; I say the one rather than the other, because such a trick of the ear is deeper-seated and more original in man than any logical consideration. Few writers, indeed, are probably conscious of the length to which they push this melody of letters. One, writing very diligently, and only concerned about the meaning of his words and the rhythm of his phrases, was struck into amazement by the eager triumph with which he cancelled one expression to substitute another. Neither changed the sense; both being monosyllables, neither could affect the scansion; and it was only by looking back on what he had already written that the mystery was solved: the second word contained an open a, and for nearly half a page he had been riding that vowel to the death. In practice, I should add, the ear is not always so exacting; and ordinary writers, in ordinary moments, content themselves with avoiding what is harsh, and here and there, upon a rare occasion, buttressing a phrase, or linking two together, with a patch of assonance or a momentary jingle of alliteration. To understand how constant is this pre-occupation of good writers, even where its results are least obtrusive, it is only necessary to turn to the bad. There, indeed, you will find cacophony supreme, the rattle of incongruous consonants only relieved by the jaw-breaking hiatus, and whole phrases not to be articulated by the powers of man. Conclusion. We may now briefly enumerate the elements of style. We have, peculiar to the prose writer, the task of keeping his phrases large, rhythmical and pleasing to the ear, without ever allowing them to fall into the strictly metrical: peculiar to the versifier, the task of combining and contrasting his double, treble, and quadruple pattern, feet and groups, logic and metre-harmonious in diversity common to both, the task of artfully combining the prime elements of language into phrases that shall be musical in the mouth; the task of weaving their argument into a texture of committed phrases and of rounded periods-but this particularly in the case of prose: and again common to both, the task of choosing apt, explicit, and communicative words. We begin to see now what an intricate affair is any perfect passage; how many faculties, whether of taste or pure reason, must be held upon the stretch to make it; and why, when it is made, it should afford us so complete a pleasure. From the arrangement of according letters, which is altogether arabesque and sensual, up to the architecture of the elegant and pregnant sentence, which is a vigorous act of the pure intellect, there is scarce a faculty in man but has been exercised. We need not wonder, then, if perfect sentences are rare, and perfect pages rarer. ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON. ENGLAND AND THE SOUDAN. HE expedition to the Soudan started last autumn with the general acquiescence of all Englishmen. Whatever differences of opinion there were as to the mission of General Gordon to Khartoum, it was felt that the rescue of our gallant countryman was a national duty. The nation watched Lord Wolseley's advance with painful suspense. As our troops approached nearer and nearer to Khartoum the hopes of the nation rose ; at last it seemed as if success had crowned our efforts, and we confidently hoped that in a few more hours our anxiety would be at an end and Gordon would be saved. But, alas ! on February 4 the fatal news arrived. We were fortyeight hours too late! Sir Charles Wilson reached Khartoum on January 28, only to find that the city was in the hands of the Mahdi, having been taken by treachery on January 26. This terrible catastrophe entirely altered the whole aspect of affairs. The main object of the expedition was frustrated. The whole conditions were changed. Gordon was no more. The garrison of Khartoum had either been massacred or had joined the Mahdi. The fortifications and arsenal were in the hands of the enemy. Lord Wolseley at once telegraphed home for instructions. He inquired, as Mr. Gladstone told us on the first night of the Session, "whether he was to shape the measures that he might have immediately to take upon the supposition that he was either now, or eventually, to proceed to overthrow the power of the Mahdi at Khartoum; or whether he was to proceed upon the opposite supposition; because the framework of those measures and their character would essentially depend upon our adoption of the affirmative or the negative upon that important point." |