I do not speak at present, however, of the important influence which Bacon had particularly in view in these words,-the influence of language, as the direct medium of thought, perpetuating, by habitual use, the prejudices involved in the original meaning of certain words, or by accidental association, conveying peculiar differences of meaning to the minds of different individuals, and thus strengthening and fixing in each many separate prejudices, in addition to the general prejudices of mankind. This permanent influence of language, as tinging with its peculiar colours the thought of which it is the medium, though we may not feel it in the particular cases in which it modifies our own judgments, we know, at least, to be very powerful; because we are sufficiently quicksighted to discover its influence on the minds of those who are opposed to us in opinion; every one, in the intercourse of society, thus serving as a mirror, to shew, to every one besides, the principles of fallacy in his own mental constitution, which are truly in himself, though he cannot perceive them, but as they are reflected from others. We have, however, too many mirrors of this kind around us, not to have some slight fear at least, that the prejudices of language, as the direct medium of thought, may be exercising their universal dominion, even on ourselves, the least fallible of the multitude; but we pay little attention in general, and even philosophers have scarcely attended to that indirect, though not less real, influence of language, to which I at present allude,—the influence which it indirectly acquires, as a series of sounds, suggesting each other in succession, by their own similarities, independently of any relations that may subsist in the objects which they denote, and independently, too, of those general habits, or accidental and limited associations, of which Bacon speaks. Similar sounds suggest by their mere similarity, similar sounds; and the words thus suggested, awake the conceptions which they are accustomed to represent,― and, consequently, the whole train of thoughts, and images associated with these conceptions, which would not have arisen but for the accidental resemblance of one symbol to another. That such verbal suggestions should frequently occur, we might presume, a priori, from our knowledge of the general principles of association. But the influence which this symbolic resemblance has on our looser trains of silent thought, is perhaps, far greater than we conceive it to be. There is, indeed, a very obvious reason, that it should appear to us less than it truly is. When a word is once suggested by its syllabic resemblance, and, consequently, the image which that new word denotes, the mind is so quick to perceive a relation of some sort among almost all the objects which can be presented to it, that it readily discovers some relation between the new image and those which preceded it; and though it was truly the resemblance of mere sound which suggested it, independently of the relation, which may be discoved after it is suggested, the feeling of this relation seems of itself, when we look back, sufficient to account for the suggestion. We think of this, therefore, as the cause, since it can be made to harmonize, in some measure, with our thought itself, and disregard that mere verbal influence, in which, and in which alone, the suggestion had its origin. It is only where the direct verbal suggestion is rendered more apparent, by the strange incongruity of the images, which the similar sounds chance to denote, as in the case of puns, that we readily ascribe the suggestion to the word, and not to the thought itself. Even in the case of puns, it is only to the few, in which the contrast of meaning is very striking, that we pay any attention. How many words of similar sound arise in the mind by this species of suggestion, which are never uttered as puns, but pass silently away, because they are felt to be without that happy ambiguity, or opposition of meaning, which alone could reconcile the hearers to this petty species of wit. Next to this petty species of wit, as a proof of the influence of mere verbal similarities of sound in suggestion, may be mentioned the connecting influence of rhyme. That, in rhyme, sound suggests sound, and consequently operates indirectly on the train of thought by this mere symbolical resemblance, there can be no question, since rhyme itself is but the recurrence of such similar sounds at regular or irregular intervals; and to these recurring sounds, it is very evident, that the train of thought must be in a considerable degree subservient, however independent of it, it may seem. I need not quote to you the simile of Butler so often quoted on this subject, in which he compares rhyme, in its influence on verse, to the rudder, which, though in the rear of the vessel, and apparently following its direction, directs the track which the vessel itself is to pursue; but there can be no doubt as to the reality of the influence exercised on the whole verse, by these final words, the monotonous syllables,-of which the office has been said to be nothing more than the very humble one of standing, "like watchmen, at the close, To keep the verse from being prose." On first consideration it might seem, that, in the use of rhyme, the necessity under which the poet is placed of accommodating his train of thought to resemblances of sound that have themselves no peculiar relation to one thought more than to another, and the frequent sacrifices which may, therefore, be required of him, must be unfavourable to the sentiment of the verse, whatever accession of pleasure it may or may not be supposed to give to the melody. That it must occasionally render some sacrifices unavoidable, and thus sometimes deprive the reader of expressions more powerful in themselves than the tamer phrases, which alone admit of being accommodated to some obstinate and intractable rhyme, is indeed true. Yet the influence of this constraint is, perhaps, upon the whole, far from unfavourable to the sentiment, giving more than it takes away. For how many of the most beautiful thoughts and images of poetry are we indebted to these final sounds, which suggest each other by their accidental resemblances; and which, merely by obliging the poet to pause till he can accommodate the verse, with perfect propriety of sentiment and measure, to the imperious necessity of the rhyme, bring before him during this interval a greater variety of images, from which to make his selection, than would have occurred to his rapid invention and too easy acquiescence, if he had not been under the same unavoidable restraint. In this respect, the shackles of rhyme have often been compared to the fetters of the actor; which, instead of truly embarrassing his movements, and giving him less pomp and consequence in the eyes of those who gaze on him, only make him toss his arms with more impetuous action, and tread the stage with greater majesty. An influence on the successions of our thought,—similar to that of the concluding syllables of verse,-is exercised by the initial sounds of words in alliteration. How readily suggestions of this kind occur, so as to modify indirectly the train of images and feelings in the mind, and what pleasure they afford when they seem to have arisen without effort, is marked by the tendency to alliteration which is so prevalent, not in the poetry merely, but still more in the traditionary proverbs of every country. In like manner, when names are to be coupled in the fictions of romance, and when many names seem equal in every other respect, this alliterative resemblance is very frequently, to use Leibnitz's phrase, the sufficient reason which directs the author's choice. In the works of a single novelist, for example, how much more readily do the names Roderick Random, Peregrine Pickle, Ferdinand Count Fathom, seem to join together, than if the same names had been differently arranged, in any transposition which we could make of them. It is in verse, however, and particularly in the lighter species of verse, that the charm of alliteration is most powerfully felt. I scarcely need repeat to you any examples, to prove what you must often have experienced: "But thousands die, without or this or that; Die, and endow a college, or a cat."* "Fill but his purse, our poet's work is done; Alike to him, by pathos or by pun."+ "Or her whose life the church and scandal share; "Many a German Prince is worse, Who, proud of pedigree, is poor of purse."◊ In these lines of Pope, it is impossible not to feel the force of the alliteration, and the additional prominence and sharpness which it seems to give to every point of the thought and expression. It may be remarked, however, that though the alliteration itself consists only in the similarity of sounds,-which must, of course, be the same, whatever be the meaning of the particular words, it is by no means indifferent as to the effect produced, on * Moral Essays, Ep. III. v. 95, 96. + Imitations of Horace, Book II. Ep. I. v. 294, 295. "Their purse," and "them."—Orig. Moral Essays, Ep. II. v. 105, 106. Imitation of Horace, Ep. VI. v. 83, 84. what words of the sentence the alliteration is made to fall. Unless where it is intended for producing or augmenting imitative harmony by its redoubled sounds,-which may be considered as forming a class apart,—it is never so powerful, as when it falls on words, which, together with the similarity of sound, have either a great similarity or a great discrepancy of meaning, harmonizing, as it with those other principles of resemblance or contrast, which, of themselves, might have been sufficient to produce the particular suggestion. Thus, in the very alliterative line of the Rape of the Locke, which describes the furniture of Belinda's toilet, were, "Puffs, powders, patches, Bibles, billets-doux ;”—* the alliteration in the former half of the verse is of words which express things similar, that in the latter part, of words which express things discrepant. The contrast, produced by the ideas of Bibles and billets-doux, gives more pleasure, by the agreement which the alliteration points, out of things that are in other respects so opposite. It is the same in the case of the passion and the prayer, the college and the cat, and in most of those happy alliterations which are to be found in the satyrical or playful verses of this powerful master of all the art of verse. The alliteration of words that express opposite ideas is, in truth, a species of wit, as far as the pleasure of wit consists in the sudden discovery of unexpected resemblances,—and approaches very nearly the nature of a pun; combined, at the same time, with the pleasure, which the ludicrous antithesis of the objects themselves would have produced even without alliteration. To the other half of the line," Puffs, powders, patches," the same remark does not apply. Yet the pleasure, in this instance, is not produced merely by the recurrence of similar sounds. It arises also, in part, from the discovery of a new and different resemblance, in things of which all the similarities were before supposed to be known. In this, too, the effect of the alliteration is very nearly similar to that of a pun; and it is, in truth, a pun of letters, as puns, conversely, may be said to imply an alliteration of whole words. In both cases, whether the resemblance be in the whole word, as in the pun, or only in a part of the word, as in alliteration, the suggestion may be considered as a decisive proof of the influence * Canto I. v. 138. |