[_Rolls his brineless tide._ l. 411. Some philosophers have believed that the continent of America was not raised out of the great ocean at so early a period of time as the other continents. One reason for this opinion was, because the great lakes, perhaps nearly as large as the Mediterranean Sea, consist of fresh water. And as the sea-salt seems to have its origin from the destruction of vegetable and animal bodies, washed down by rains, and carried by rivers into lakes or seas; it would seem that this source of sea-salt had not so long existed in that country. There is, however, a more satisfactory way of explaining this circ.u.mstance; which is, that the American lakes lie above the level of the ocean, and are hence perpetually desalited by the rivers which run through them; which is not the case with the Mediterranean, into which a current from the main ocean perpetually pa.s.ses.]
[_Caffia._ l. 413. Ten males, one female. The seeds are black, the stamens gold-colour. This is one of the American fruits, which are annually thrown on the coasts of Norway; and are frequently in so recent a state as to vegetate, when properly taken care of, the fruit of the anacardium, cashew-nut; of cucurbita lagenaria, bottlegourd; of the mimosa scandens, coc.o.o.ns; of the piscidia erythrina, logwood-tree; and cocoa-nuts are enumerated by Dr. Tonning. (Amaen. Acad. 149.) amongst these emigrant seeds. The fact is truly wonderful, and cannot be accounted for but by the existence of under currents in the depths of the ocean; or from vortexes of water pa.s.sing from one country to another through caverns of the earth.
Sir Hans Sloane has given an account of four kinds of seeds, which are frequently thrown by the sea upon the coasts of the islands of the northern parts of Scotland. Phil. Trans. abridged, Vol. III. p. 540.
which seeds are natives of the West Indies, and seem to be brought thither by the gulf-stream described below. One of these is called, by Sir H. Sloane, Phaseolus maximus perennis, which is often also thrown on the coast of Kerry in Ireland; another is called, in Jamaica, Horse-eye-bean; and a third is called Niker in Jamaica. He adds, that the Lenticula marina, or Sargosso, grows on the rocks about Jamaica, is carried by the winds and current towards the coast of Florida, and thence into the North-American ocean, where it lies very thick on the surface of the sea.
Thus a rapid current pa.s.ses from the gulf of Florida to the N.E.
along the coast of North-America, known to seamen by the name of the GULF-STREAM. A chart of this was published by Dr. Francklin in 1768, from the information princ.i.p.ally of Capt. Folger. This was confirmed by the ingenious experiments of Dr. Blagden, published in 1781, who found that the water of the Gulf-stream was from six to eleven degrees warmer than the water of the sea through which it ran; which must have been occasioned by its being brought from a hotter climate. He ascribes the origin of this current to the power of the trade-winds, which, blowing always in the same direction, carry the waters of the Atlantic ocean to the westward, till they are stopped by the opposing continent on the west of the Gulf of Mexico, and are thus acc.u.mulated there, and run down the Gulf of Florida. Philos. Trans. V. 71, p. 335. Governor Pownal has given an elegant map of this Gulf-stream, tracing it from the Gulf of Florida northward as far as Cape Sable in Nova Scotia, and then across the Atlantic ocean to the coast of Africa between the Canary-islands and Senegal, increasing in breadth, as it runs, till it occupies five or six degrees of lat.i.tude. The Governor likewise ascribes this current to the force of the trade-winds _protruding_ the waters westward, till they are opposed by the continent, and acc.u.mulated in the Gulf of Mexico. He very ingeniously observes, that a great eddy must be produced in the Atlantic ocean between this Gulf-stream and the westerly current protruded by the tropical winds, and in this eddy are found the immense fields of floating vegetables, called Saragosa weeds, and Gulf-weeds, and some light woods, which circulate in these vast eddies, or are occasionally driven out of them by the winds. Hydraulic and Nautical Observations by Governor Pownal, 1787. Other currents are mentioned by the Governor in this ingenious work, as those in the Indian Sea, northward of the line, which are ascribed to the influence of the Monsoons. It is probable, that in process of time the narrow tract of land on the west of the Gulf of Mexico may be worn away by this elevation of water dashing against it, by which this immense current would cease to exist, and a wonderful change take place in the Gulf of Mexico and West Indian islands, by the subsiding of the sea, which might probably lay all those islands int one, or join them to the continent.]
415 Cinctured with gold while _ten_ fond brothers stand, And guard the beauty on her native land,
Soft breathes the gale, the current gently moves, And bears to Norway"s coasts her infant-loves.
--So the sad mother at the noon of night 420 From b.l.o.o.d.y Memphis stole her silent flight; Wrapp"d her dear babe beneath her folded vest, And clasp"d the treasure to her throbbing breast, With soothing whispers hushed its feeble cry, Pressed the soft kiss, and breathed the secret sigh.-- 425 --With dauntless step she seeks the winding sh.o.r.e, Hears unappall"d the glimmering torrents roar; With Paper-flags a floating cradle weaves, And hides the smiling boy in Lotus-leaves; Gives her white bosom to his eager lips, 430 The salt tears mingling with the milk he sips; Waits on the reed-crown"d brink with pious guile, And trusts the scaly monsters of the Nile.--
--Erewhile majestic from his lone abode, Emba.s.sador of Heaven, the Prophet trod; 435 Wrench"d the red Scourge from proud Oppression"s hands, And broke, curst Slavery! thy iron bands.
Hark! heard ye not that piercing cry, Which shook the waves and rent the sky!--
E"en now, e"en now, on yonder Western sh.o.r.es 440 Weeps pale Despair, and writhing Anguish roars: E"en now in Afric"s groves with hideous yell Fierce SLAVERY stalks, and slips the dogs of h.e.l.l; From vale to vale the gathering cries rebound, And sable nations tremble at the sound!-- 445 --YE BANDS OF SENATORS! whose suffrage sways Britannia"s realms, whom either Ind obeys; Who right the injured, and reward the brave, Stretch your strong arm, for ye have power to save!
Throned in the vaulted heart, his dread resort, 450 Inexorable CONSCIENCE holds his court; With still small voice the plots of Guilt alarms, Bares his mask"d brow, his lifted hand disarms; But, wrapp"d in night with terrors all his own, He speaks in thunder, when the deed is done.
455 _Hear him_ ye Senates! hear this truth sublime, "HE, WHO ALLOWS OPPRESSION, SHARES THE CRIME."
No radiant pearl, which crested Fortune wears, No gem, that twinkling hangs from Beauty"s ears, Not the bright stars, which Night"s blue arch adorn, 460 Nor rising suns that gild the vernal morn, Shine with such l.u.s.tre as the tear, that breaks For other"s woe down Virtue"s manly cheeks."
Here ceased the MUSE, and dropp"d her tuneful sh.e.l.l, Tumultuous woes her panting bosom swell, 465 O"er her flush"d cheek her gauzy veil she throws, Folds her white arms, and bends her laurel"d brows; For human guilt awhile the G.o.ddess sighs, And human sorrows dim celestial eyes.
INTERLUDE III.
_Bookseller_. Poetry has been called a sister-art both to Painting and to Music; I wish to know, what are the particulars of their relationship?
_Poet_. It has been already observed, that the princ.i.p.al part of the language of poetry consists of those words, which are expressive of the ideas, which we originally receive by the organ of sight; and in this it nearly indeed resembles painting; which can express itself in no other way, but by exciting the ideas or sensations belonging to the sense of vision. But besides this essential similitude in the language of the poetic pen and pencil, these two sisters resemble each other, if I may so say, in many of their habits and manners. The painter, to produce a strong effect, makes a few parts of his picture large, distinct, and luminous, and keeps the remainder in shadow, or even beneath its natural size and colour, to give eminence to the princ.i.p.al figure. This is similar to the common manner of poetic composition, where the subordinate characters are kept down, to elevate and give consequence to the hero or heroine of the piece.
In the south aile of the cathedral church at Lichfield, there is an antient monument of a rec.u.mbent figure; the head and neck of which lie on a roll of matting in a kind of niche or cavern in the wall; and about five feet distant horizontally in another opening or cavern in the wall are seen the feet and ankles, with some folds of garment, lying also on a matt; and though the intermediate s.p.a.ce is a solid stone-wall, yet the imagination supplies the deficiency, and the whole figure seems to exist before our eyes. Does not this resemble one of the arts both of the painter and the poet? The former often shows a muscular arm amidst a group of figures, or an impa.s.sioned face; and, hiding the remainder of the body behind other objects, leaves the imagination to compleat it. The latter, describing a single feature or att.i.tude in picturesque words, produces before the mind an image of the whole.
I remember seeing a print, in which was represented a shrivelled hand stretched through an iron grate, in the stone floor of a prison-yard, to reach at a mess of porrage, which affected me with more horrid ideas of the distress of the prisoner in the dungeon below, than could have been perhaps produced by an exhibition of the whole person. And in the following beautiful scenery from the Midsummer-night"s dream, (in which I have taken the liberty to alter the place of a comma), the description of the swimming step and prominent belly bring the whole figure before our eyes with the distinctness of reality.
When we have laugh"d to see the sails conceive, And grow big-bellied with the wanton wind; Which she with pretty and with swimming gate, Following her womb, (then rich with my young squire), Would imitate, and sail upon the land.
There is a third sister-feature, which belongs both to the pictorial and poetic art; and that is the making sentiments and pa.s.sions visible, as it were, to the spectator; this is done in both arts by describing or portraying the effects or changes which those sentiments or pa.s.sions produce upon the body. At the end of the unaltered play of Lear, there is a beautiful example of poetic painting; the old King is introduced as dying from grief for the loss of Cordelia; at this crisis, Shakespear, conceiving the robe of the king to be held together by a clasp, represents him as only saying to an attendant courtier in a faint voice, "Pray, Sir, undo this b.u.t.ton,--thank you, Sir," and dies. Thus by the art of the poet, the oppression at the bosom of the dying King is made visible, not described in words.
_B_. What are the features, in which these Sister-arts do not resemble each other?
_P_. The ingenious Bishop Berkeley, in his Treatise on Vision, a work of great ability, has evinced, that the colours, which we see, are only a language suggesting to our minds the ideas of solidity and extension, which we had before received by the sense of touch. Thus when we view the trunk of a tree, our eye can only acquaint us with the colours or shades; and from the previous experience of the sense of touch, these suggest to us the cylindrical form, with the prominent or depressed wrinkles on it. From hence it appears, that there is the strictest a.n.a.logy between colours and sounds; as they are both but languages, which do not represent their correspondent ideas, but only suggest them to the mind from the habits or a.s.sociations of previous experience. It is therefore reasonable to conclude, that the more artificial arrangements of these two languages by the poet and the painter bear a similar a.n.a.logy.
But in one circ.u.mstance the Pen and the Pencil differ widely from each other, and that is the quant.i.ty of Time which they can include in their respective representations. The former can unravel a long series of events, which may const.i.tute the history of days or years; while the latter can exhibit only the actions of a moment. The Poet is happier in describing successive scenes; the Painter in representing stationary ones: both have their advantages.
Where the pa.s.sions are introduced, as the Poet, on one hand, has the power gradually to prepare the mind of his reader by previous climacteric circ.u.mstances; the Painter, on the other hand, can throw stronger illumination and distinctness on the princ.i.p.al moment or catastrophe of the action; besides the advantage he has in using an universal language, which can be _read_ in an instant of time. Thus where a great number of figures are all seen together, supporting or contrasting each other, and contributing to explain or aggrandize the princ.i.p.al effect, we view a picture with agreeable surprize, and contemplate it with unceasing admiration. In the representation of the sacrifice of Jephtha"s Daughter, a print done from a painting of Ant. Coypel, at one glance of the eye we read all the interesting pa.s.sages of the last act of a well-written tragedy; so much poetry is there condensed into a moment of time.
_B._ Will you now oblige me with an account of the relationship between Poetry, and her other sister, Music? _P_. In the poetry of our language I don"t think we are to look for any thing a.n.a.logous to the notes of the gamut; for, except perhaps in a few exclamations or interrogations, we are at liberty to raise or sink our voice an octave or two at pleasure, without altering the sense of the words. Hence, if either poetry or prose be read in melodious tones of voice, as is done in recitativo, or in chaunting, it must depend on the speaker, not on the writer: for though words may be selected which are less harsh than others, that is, which have fewer sudden stops or abrupt consonants amongst the vowels, or with fewer sibilant letters, yet this does not const.i.tute melody, which consists of agreeable successions of notes referrable to the gamut; or harmony, which consists of agreeable combinations of them. If the Chinese language has many words of similar articulation, which yet signify different ideas, when spoken in a higher or lower musical note, as some travellers affirm, it must be capable of much finer effect, in respect to the audible part of poetry, than any language we are acquainted with.
There is however another affinity, in which poetry and music more nearly resemble each other than has generally been understood, and that is in their measure or time. There are but two kinds of time acknowledged in modern music, which are called _triple time_, and _common time_. The former of these is divided by bars, each bar containing three crotchets, or a proportional number of their subdivisions into quavers and semiquavers. This kind of time is a.n.a.logous to the measure of our heroic or iambic verse. Thus the two following couplets are each of them divided into five bars of _triple time_, each bar consisting of two crotchets and two quavers; nor can they be divided into bars a.n.a.logous to _common time_ without the bars interfering with some of the crotchets, so as to divide them.
_3_ Soft-warbling beaks in each bright blos som move, 4 And vo cal rosebuds thrill the enchanted grove,
In these lines there is a quaver and a crochet alternately in every bar, except in the last, in which _the in_ make two semiquavers; the _e_ is supposed by Grammarians to be cut off, which any one"s ear will readily determine not to be true.
_3_ Life buds or breathes from Indus to the poles, 4 And the vast surface kind les, as it rolls.
In these lines there is a quaver and a crotchet alternately in the first bar; a quaver, two crotchets, and a quaver, make the second bar. In the third bar there is a quaver, a crotchet, and a rest after the crotchet, that is, after the word _poles_, and two quavers begin the next line. The fourth bar consists of quavers and crotchets alternately. In the last bar there is a quaver, and a rest after it, viz. after the word _kindles_; and then two quavers and a crotchet. You will clearly perceive the truth of this, if you p.r.i.c.k the musical characters above mentioned under the verses.
The _common time_ of musicians is divided into bars, each of which contains four crotchets, or a proportional number of their subdivision into quavers and semiquavers. This kind of musical time is a.n.a.logous to the dactyle verses of our language, the most popular instances of which are in Mr. Anstie"s Bath-Guide. In this kind of verse the bar does not begin till after the first or second syllable; and where the verse is quite complete, and written by a good ear, these first syllables added to the last complete the bar, exactly in this also corresponding with many pieces of music;
_2_ Yet if one may guess by the size of his calf, Sir, 4 He weighs about twenty-three stone and a half, Sir.
_2_ Master Mamozet"s head was not finished so soon, 4 For it took up the barber a whole afternoon.
In these lines each bar consists of a crotchet, two quavers, another crotchet, and two more quavers: which are equal to four crotchets, and, like many bars of _common time_ in music, may be subdivided into two in beating time without disturbing the measure.
The following verses from Shenftone belong likewise to common time:
2/4 Ariver or a seaWas to him a dishof tea, And a kingdom bread and b.u.t.ter.
The first and second bars consist each of a crotchet, a quaver, a crotchet, a quaver, a crotchet. The third bar consists of a quaver, two crotchets, a quaver, a crotchet. The last bar is not complete without adding the letter A, which begins the first line, and then it consists of a quaver, a crotchet, a quaver, a crotchet, two quavers.
It must be observed, that the crotchets in triple time are in general played by musicians slower than those of common time, and hence minuets are generally p.r.i.c.ked in triple time, and country dances generally in common time. So the verses above related, which are a.n.a.logous to _triple time_, are generally read slower than those a.n.a.logous to _common time_; and are thence generally used for graver compositions. I suppose all the different kinds of verses to be found in our odes, which have any measure at all, might be arranged under one or other of these two musical times; allowing a note or two sometimes to precede the commencement of the bar, and occasional rests, as in musical compositions: if this was attended to by those who set poetry to music, it is probable the sound and sense would oftener coincide. Whether these musical times can be applied to the lyric and heroic verses of the Greek and Latin poets, I do not pretend to determine; certain it is, that the dactyle verse of our language, when it is ended with a double rhime, much resembles the measure of Homer and Virgil, except in the length of the lines. B. Then there is no relationship between the other two of these sister-, Painting and Music?
_P_. There is at least a mathematical relationship, or perhaps I ought rather to have said a metaphysical relationship between them. Sir Isaac Newton has observed, that the breadths of the seven primary colours in the Sun"s image refracted by a prism are proportional to the seven musical notes of the gamut, or to the intervals of the eight sounds contained in an octave, that is, proportional to the following numbers:
Sol. La. Fa. Sol. La. Mi. Fa. Sol.
Red. Orange. Yellow. Green. Blue. Indigo. Violet, 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 9 16 10 9 16 16 9
Newton"s Optics, Book I. part 2. prop. 3 and 6. Dr. Smith, in his Harmonics, has an explanatory note upon this happy discovery, as he terms it, of Newton. Sect. 4. Art. 7. From this curious coincidence, it has been proposed to produce a luminous music, confiding of successions or combinations of colours, a.n.a.logous to a tune in respect to the proportions above mentioned. This might be performed by a strong light, made by means of Mr. Argand"s lamps, pa.s.sing through coloured gla.s.ses, and falling on a defined part of a wall, with moveable blinds before them, which might communicate with the keys of a harpsichord; and thus produce at the same time visible and audible music in unison with each other. The execution of this idea is said by Mr. Guyot to have been attempted by Father Ca.s.sel without much success. If this should be again attempted, there is another curious coincidence between sounds and colours, discovered by Dr. Darwin of Shrewsbury, and explained in a paper on what he calls Ocular Spectra, in the Philosophical Transactions, Vol.
LXXVI. which might much facilitate the execution of it. In this treatise the Doctor has demonstrated, that we see certain colours, not only with greater ease and distinctness, but with relief and pleasure, after having for some time contemplated other certain colours; as green after red, or red after green; orange after blue, or blue after orange; yellow after violet, or violet after yellow. This he shews arises from the _ocular spectrum_ of the colour last viewed coinciding with the _irritation_ of the colour now under contemplation. Now as the pleasure we receive from the sensation of melodious notes, independent of the previous a.s.sociations of agreeable ideas with them, must arise from our hearing some proportions of sounds after others more easily, distinctly, or agreeably; and as there is a coincidence between the proportions of the primary colours, and the primary sounds, if they may be so called; he argues, that the same laws must govern the sensations of both. In this circ.u.mstance, therefore, consists the sisterhood of Music and Painting; and hence they claim a right to borrow metaphors from each other; musicians to speak of the brilliancy of sounds, and the light and shade of a concerto; and painters of the harmony of colours, and the tone of a picture. Thus it was not quite so absurd, as was imagined, when the blind man asked if the colour scarlet was like the sound of a trumpet. As the coincidence or opposition of these _ocular spectra_, (or colours which remain in the eye after having for some time contemplated a luminous object) are more easily and more accurately ascertained, now their laws have been investigated by Dr. Darwin, than the _relicts_ of evanescent sounds upon the ear; it is to be wished that some ingenious musician would further cultivate this curious field of science: for if visible music can be agreeably produced, it would be more easy to add sentiment to it by the representations of groves and Cupids, and sleeping nymphs amid the changing colours, than is commonly done by the words of audible music.
_B._ You mentioned the greater length of the verses of Homer and Virgil.
Had not these poets great advantage in the superiority of their languages compared to our own?
_P_. It is probable, that the introduction of philosophy into a country must gradually affect the language of it; as philosophy converses in more appropriated and abstracted terms; and thus by degrees eradicates the abundance of metaphor, which is used in the more early ages of society.
Otherwise, though the Greek compound words have more vowels in proportion to their consonants than the English ones, yet the modes of compounding them are less general; as may be seen by variety of instances given in the preface of the Translators, prefixed to the SYSTEM OF VEGETABLES by the Lichfield Society; which happy property of our own language rendered that translation of Linneus as expressive and as concise, perhaps more so than the original.
And in one respect, I believe, the English language serves the purpose of poetry better than the antient ones, I mean in the greater ease of producing personifications; for as our nouns have in general no genders affixed to them in prose-compositions, and in the habits of conversation, they become easily personified only by the addition of a masculine or feminine p.r.o.noun, as,
Pale Melancholy sits, and round _her_ throws A death-like silence, and a dread repose.