manner the conception of such affections is associated with such circumstances in the progress of sound, it is not my business to explain. It is sufficient that the fact itself is acknowledged. I cannot avoid, however, observing, that there is a very strong analogy, not only between the progress of musical sounds, and the progress of sounds in the human voice, in the case of particular passions; but that there is also a similar analogy be tween such progress in sounds, and the progress of thought in the case of such passions. Under the influence of pleasing or agreeable passions, the articulation is quick; in the case of contrary passions it is slow: and so strong is this expression, that we are disposed to judge of the passion any person is affected with, although we do not hear the words he utters, merely from the slowness or rapidity of his articulation. It is observable, in the same manner, that different passions have an influence upon the progress of our thoughts, and that they operate very sensibly either in accelerating or retarding this progress. All the passions which belong to pleasure, are attended with a rapid succession of thoughts, and seem to give an unusual degree of vigour to our imagination. The passions, on the contrary, which belong to pain, produce, in general, a slow and languid succession of thought, and seem to depress our imagination below its usual tone. This is so obvious, that every person must have observed it even in conversation.

The progress of musical sounds, therefore, may very naturally express to us the nature or character of particular passions, not only from the analogy between such progress of sounds, and the progress of thought; but still more from its being in a great measure the sign of such affections of mind, by making use of the same sounds or tones, and the same varieties in the progress

of these sounds, which are in real life the signs of such affections in the human voice. Whether these observations account for the associations we have with musical time, or not, is at present a matter of no consequence, as the fact itself is sufficiently certain. The appropriation of particular time, to particular emotions, has taken place in every age and country, is understood by every man, and is not the less certain, though no account can be given of the reason of it.

It is in thus being able to express both the tone of passion or affection, and that progress of thought or sentiment which belongs to such affections, that, in as far as I am able to judge, the real foundation of musical expression consists. It is far beyond the bounds which I prescribe my self in these observations, to enter into any minute investigation of the different expressions which such sounds, and such compositions of sounds in general possess. But if the reader will recollect, what are the distinct associations which it has formerly been observed we have with sounds or tones, as loud or soft, grave or acute, and the particular associations which it has now been observed we have with the different progressions of sound, as quick, or moderate, or slow; and will further attend to the possible number of ways in which these different characteristics of music may be combined, he will be fully sensible both of the different emotions which it is in the power of music to express, and of the great variety which it affords in the expression of these emotions.

If I am not mistaken, the real extent of musical expression coincides in a great degree with this account of it. These signs in the human voice are general signs. They express particular classes of passion or emotion, but they do not express any particular passion. If we had no other means of intercourse or of information, we

might from such signs infer, that the person was elevated or depressed, gay or solemn, cheerful or plaintive, joyous or sad; but we could not, I think, infer, what was the particular passion which produced these expressions. Music, which can avail itself of these signs only, can express nothing more particular than the signs themselves. It will be found, accordingly, that it is within this limit that musical expression is really confined; that such classes of emotion it can perfectly express; but that when it goes beyond this limit, it ceases to be either expressive or beautiful. The general emotions of gaiety, elevation, solemnity, melancholy or sadness, it is every day found to express; and with regard to such general expressions there is never any mistake; but when it attempts to go further, when it attempts to express particular passions, ambition, fortitude, pity, love, gratitude, &c. it either fails altogether in its effect, or is obliged to have recourse to the assistance of words to render it in. telligible. "It is in general true (says Dr. Beattie) that poetry is the most immediate and the most accurate interpreter of music. Without this auxiliary, a piece "of the best music, heard for the first time, might be "said to mean something, but we should not be able to 66 say what. It might incline the heart to sensibility, but poetry or language would be necessary to improve that "sensibility into a real emotion, by fixing the fancy up"on some definite and affecting ideas. A fine instru"mental symphony, well performed, is like an oration "delivered with propriety, but in an unknown tongue; "it may affect us a little, but conveys no determinate "feeling. We are alarmed, perhaps, or melted, or sooth"ed; but it is very imperfectly, because we know not why. The singer by taking up the same air, and ap"plying words to it, immediately translates the oration

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" into our own language. Then all uncertainty vanish" es, the fancy is filled with determinate ideas, and de"terminate emotions take possession of the heart.”— Essay upon Poetry and Music, part 1. chap. vi.

Nor is this confining the expression of which music is capable within narrower limits than is consistent with our experience of its effects. Although its real power consists in its imitation of those signs of emotion or passion which take place in the human voice, yet from its nature it possesses advantages which these signs have not, and which render it, within those limits, one of the most powerful means which can be made use of in exciting emotion. As far as I am able to judge, these advantages principally consist in the two following circum

stances:

1. In that variety of sounds which it admits of, in conformity to the key, or fundamental tone. In the real expression of passion in the human voice, the sound is nearly uniform, or at least admits of very small variation. In so far, therefore, as mere sound is concerned, the tone of any passion would in a short time become unpleasing from its uniformity; and if this effect were not forgot, in our attention to the language and sentiments of the person who addresses us, would be perceived by every ear. In music, on the contrary, the variety of related sounds which may be introduced, not only prevents this unpleas ing effect of uniformity, and preserves the emotion which the prevailing tone is of itself able to excite, but, by varying the expression of it, keeps both our attention and our imagination continually awake. The one resembles what we should feel from the passion of any person, who uniformly made use of the same words to express to us what he felt. The other, what we feel from that eloquence of passion, where new images are continually

presenting themselves to the mind of the speaker, and a new source of delight is afforded to our imagination, in the perception of the agreement of those images with the emotions from which they arise. The effect of musical composition, in this light, resembles, in some measure, the progress of an oration, in which our interest is continually kept alive; and if it were possible for us, for a moment, to forget that the performer is only repeating a lesson, were it possible for us to imagine, that the sounds we hear were the immediate expressions of his own emotion, the effect of music might be conceived in some measure to approach to the effect of eloquence. To those who have felt this influence, in the degree in which, in some seasons of sensibility, it may be felt, there is no improbability in the accounts of the effects of music in earlier times, when the professions of poetry and music were not separated: when the bard, under the influence of some strong and present impression, accommodated bis melody to the language of his own passion; and when the hearers, under the influence of the same impression, were prepared to go along with him, in every variety of that emotion which he felt and expressed himself.

2. But, besides this, there is another circumstance in which the expression of music differs materially from the expression of natural signs, and which serves to add considerably to the strength of its effect. Such natural sounds express to us immediately, if they express at all, the emotion of the person from whom they proceed, and therefore immediately excite our own emotion. As these sounds, however, have little or no variety, and excite immediately their correspondent emotion, it necessarily happens, that they become weaker as they proceed, until at last they become positively disagreeable. In musical