mony consists of sound and measure; of the force of the syllables singly considered, and of the time which they are pronounced. Sound can resemble nothing but sound, and time can measure nothing but motion and duration.
The criticks, however, have struck out other similitudes; nor is there any irregularity of numbers which credulous admiration cannot discover to be eminently beautiful. Thus the propriety of each of these lines has been celebrated by writers whose opinion the world has reason to regard:
Vertitur interea cœlum, et ruit oceano nox. Meantime the rapid heav'us rowl'd down the light, |
Dryden. |
Sternitur, exanimisque tremens procumbit humi bos. Down drops the beast, nor needs a second wound; |
Dryden. |
Parturiunt montes, nascitur ridiculus mus. The mountains labour, and a mouse is born. |
Roscommon. |
If all these observations are just, there must be some remarkable conformity between the sudden succession of night to day, the fall of an ox under a blow, and the birth of a mouse from a mountain; since we are told of all these images, that they are very strongly impressed by the same form and termination of the verse.
We may, however, without giving way to enthusiasm, admit that some beauties of this kind may be produced. A sudden stop at an unusual
