c. 10. Next come the aims and methods of good composition. The two chief aims are charm and beauty or nobility: the ear craves these in composition, just as the eye in a work of pictorial art. The two qualities are, however, not identical. Thucydides, for example, and Antiphon possess beauty but lack charm. Ctesias, on the other hand, and Xenophon are charming (pleasing, agreeable), but deficient in beauty. Herodotus combines the two excellences.
c. 11. The chief sources of charm and beauty (or nobility) are four: music, rhythm, variety, and propriety. Charm and beauty, themselves, have many subdivisions. The instinctive appreciation of music and rhythm on the part of a popular audience may be noticed during a performance in some house of entertainment. Variety, too, and propriety are indispensable. As to the music of speech, it is to be observed that there is a sort of oratorical cadence which differs from music proper in quantity only, not in quality. The speaking voice does not rise in pitch above three tones and a half: it confines itself to the interval of the Fifth. The singing voice, on the other hand, uses a greater number of intervals, not only the Fifth but (beginning with the Octave) the Fifth, the Fourth, the Tone, and the Semitone, and, as some think, still slighter intervals. Other points of difference are that, in singing, the words are subordinate to the air, and the length of the syllables is regulated by the musical time. So the speaking voice can show good melody without being “melodic,” and show good rhythms without being “rhythmic.” There is, in fact, music in speech, but not the whole of music.
c. 12. Various sounds affect the ear in various ways. The cause lies in the nature of the letters; and as their nature cannot be changed, there should be a judicious intermixture of pleasant with unpleasant sounds. Short words, too, must be mingled with long, and long with short. The same variety, too, must be practised in the use of figures, and in other ways. But even variety must not be carried to excess: uniformity is sometimes equally pleasant. Tact is needed, and to impart tact is no easy task. It is to be remembered that not even the commonest words need be shunned by good writers: they can all be dignified by means of composition, as is seen in Homer’s poems.
c. 13. Beauty of composition will be attained by the same means as charm of composition, — by melody, rhythm, variety, propriety. And the nature of the letters themselves will play an equal part in determining the character of the composition.
c. 14. The twenty-four letters of the Greek alphabet are now examined from the phonetic point of view. The object is to trace to some of its ultimate elements the secret of the variety and music found in beautiful language. The nature and the qualities of the letters must be understood by the writer who would know how to vary his style in an ever-changing and musical way. The letters (γράμματα), or elements (στοιχεῖα), may be divided into vowels (φωνήεντα, φωναί) and consonants (ψόφοι), and the consonants into semivowels (ἡμίφωνα) and mutes (ἄφωνα). The vowels can be pronounced by themselves; the semivowels sound best when combined with vowels; the mutes cannot be uttered at all except in combination. There are seven vowels: two short, ε and ο; two long, η and ω; and three common, — α, ι, and υ. The semivowels are eight in number: five single, viz. λ, μ, ν, ρ, ς, and three double, viz. ζ, ξ, ψ. The nine mutes may be classified as: ψιλά (tenues) κ, π, τ; δασέα (aspiratae) χ, φ, θ; and μέσα (mediae) γ, β, δ. Or they may be arranged according to the part chiefly concerned in their production: whether it is the lip, — π, φ, β; the teeth, — τ, θ, δ; or the throat, — κ, χ, γ. That is to say, Dionysius recognizes (though he does not use the technical adjectives) a division into labials, dentals, and gutturals. Among these various letters a regular hierarchy is established by him. Long vowels are held to be more euphonious than short vowels. The order of euphony for the vowels is, from the top downwards, as follows: ᾱ, η, ω, υ, ι, ο, ε; and (for the semivowels) first the double consonants, then λ, μ, ν, ρ, and lastly ς, which is condemned in strong terms. Among the mutes, the rough (the aspirates) are regarded as superior to the middle, and the middle to the smooth. The physiological processes by which the several letters are produced are described with some particularity in the light of the phonetics of the day.
c. 15. Syllables, as well as letters considered singly, contribute to variety of style. Of the syllables (or small groups of letters) there are many different kinds. The principal difference is that some are short and others long. But the difference does not end there, since some are shorter than the short and others longer than the long. The fact is that, from the metrical point of view, the vowels and final consonants alone count in determining the length of a syllable, whereas in actual delivery the initial consonants also have to be considered. For instance, a speaker will find that the initial syllable of στρόφος takes more time to utter than that of τρόπος; and so with τρόπος by the side of Ῥόδος, and with Ῥόδος by the side of ὁδός. In the same way, σπλήν is really longer than the vowel η standing by itself. And further: syllables differ not only in quantity but in sound, some being pleasant and others unpleasant, according to the nature of the letters which compose them. Great poets and prose-writers have an instinctive perception of these facts, and skilfully adapt their very syllables and letters to the emotions which they wish to portray; e.g. Homer in Odyss. ix. 415, 416, and in Il. xvii. 265, xxii. 220, 221, 476, xviii. 225.
c. 16. Poets and prose-writers frame, or borrow from their predecessors in earlier generations, such imitative forms (words whose sound suggests their sense) as ῥοχθεῖ, κλάγξας, βρέμεται, σμαραγεῖ, ῥοῖζος: all of which are found in Homer. Nature is here the great teacher; she prompts us to use, in their right connexion, words so expressive as μύκημα, χρεμετισμός, φριμαγμός, βρόμος, πάταγος, συριγμός, and the like. The first writer to broach the subject of etymology was Plato, particularly in his Cratylus.
With regard to the music of sounds, the general conclusion is that variety and beauty of style depend upon variety and beauty of words, syllables, and letters. To clinch the matter, Dionysius quotes (with appropriate comments) further illustrations from Homer — Odyssey xvii. 36, 37, vi. 162, 163, etc. Theophrastus, in his work on Style, has distinguished two classes of words — those which are beautiful (or noble) and those which are mean and paltry. Our aim should be to intermingle the latter kind, when we are forced to employ them (as sometimes we are), with the better sort, as has been done by Homer (Il. ii. 494-501) in his enumeration of the Boeotian towns.
c. 17. Rhythm, also, is an important element in good composition. For our present purpose, a rhythm and a foot may be regarded as synonymous. Of disyllabic and trisyllabic feet the following descriptive list is given: —
Various lines are quoted from the poets in order to illustrate the effect of these several feet.
c. 18. As each word has a rhythmical value (great or small) which cannot be changed, all depends on the skill with which we arrange the words at our disposal so as to blend artistically the inferior with the better. To illustrate his meaning, Dionysius quotes, and gives a rhythmical analysis of, passages from Thucydides, Plato, and Demosthenes. The excerpt from Thucydides is a part of the Funeral Oration attributed to Pericles (ii. 35). The rhythms here used are shown to be dignified ones, such as spondees, anapaests, dactyls, etc. Thucydides, we are told, deservedly has a name for elevation and for choice language, since he habitually introduces noble rhythms. From Plato is taken a short passage of the Menexenus (236 D); and this too is shown to owe its dignity and beauty to the beautiful and striking rhythms that compose it. If Plato had only been as clever in the choice of words as he is unrivalled in the art of combining them, he “had even outstript” Demosthenes, as far as beauty of style is concerned, or “had left the issue in doubt.” Demosthenes is the foremost of orators, and may be regarded as a model alike in his choice of words and in the beauty with which he arranges them. The opening of the Crown, with its c
areful avoidance of all ignoble rhythms, will prove his pre-eminence. Deficiency in this respect can be illustrated just as conspicuously by the writings of Hegesias, who would seem to have shunned good rhythms out of sheer wilfulness. A passage is quoted from Hegesias’ History — a passage which, if well written, would have moved to sympathetic tears rather than to derisive laughter. With it are contrasted some famous lines of the Iliad (xxii. 395-411) which, we are told, owe their nobility largely to the beauty of their rhythms.
c. 19. The third element in good composition is variety (ἡ μεταβολή). In the use of rhythms to impart variety, prose enjoys much greater freedom than poetry. Epic poets must needs employ the hexameter line: the writers of lyric verse must make antistrophe correspond to strophe, however greatly they may strive for liberty in other respects. That prose style is best which exhibits the greatest variety in the way of periods, clauses, rhythms, figures, and the like; and its charm is all the greater if the art that fashions it lies hidden. In point of variety, Herodotus, Plato and Demosthenes hold the foremost place: Isocrates and his followers are distinguished rather by monotony of style.
c. 20. The fourth element is fitness or propriety (τὸ πρέπον). Propriety is described as the harmony which an author establishes between his style, and the actions and persons of which he treats. Common experience proves that ordinary people, in describing an event, will vary the order of their words (and the point here is the arrangement, not the choice of words) in accordance with the emotions which it excites in them. Similarly, artistic writers should follow their own aesthetic instincts in the matter. Homer has done so with surpassing effect. A fine instance is furnished by the lines (Odyssey xi. 593-598) which depict the torment of Sisyphus — the slow upheaval of his rock, and its rapid rolling down the hill once it has reached the top.
c. 21. After these theoretical and technical discussions there arises the question: what are the different kinds of composition or arrangement, — what are the different harmonies? The answer given is that there are three: (1) the austere (αὐστηρά), (2) the smooth (γλαφυρά), (3) the harmoniously blended (εὔκρατος) or intermediate (κοινή).
c. 22. The characteristic features of austere composition are set forth in considerable detail: both generally and in reference to words, clauses, periods. Among its principal representatives are mentioned: Antimachus of Colophon and Empedocles in epic poetry, Pindar in lyric, Aeschylus in tragic; in history, Thucydides; in oratory, Antiphon. The beginning of a Pindaric dithyramb and the opening sentences of the introduction to Thucydides’ History are minutely examined from this point of view. [Any attempt to summarize fully this chapter and those which follow is hardly possible owing to the nature of the subject matter. The chapters are important, and will repay a careful study.]
c. 23. Smooth composition is next characterized in a similar way. Its chief representatives may be taken to be: Hesiod, Sappho, Anacreon, Simonides, Euripides, Ephorus, Theopompus, Isocrates. In illustration are quoted (with sundry comments) Sappho’s Hymn to Aphrodite and the introductory passage from Isocrates’ Areopagiticus.
c. 24. “The third, the mean of the two kinds already mentioned, which I call harmoniously blended (or intermediate) for lack of a proper and better name, has no form peculiar to itself, but is a judicious blend of the other two and a selection from the most effective features of each.” This third is the best variety of composition because it is a kind of golden mean; and its highest representative is Homer, in whom we find a union of the severe and the polished forms of arrangement. On a lower plane are other votaries of the golden mean: among lyric poets Stesichorus and Alcaeus, among tragedians Sophocles, among historians Herodotus, among orators Demosthenes, and among philosophers Democritus, Plato and Aristotle. Illustrative examples are, in this case, unnecessary.
c. 25. These discussions lead up to a final question, — that of the relations between prose and poetry. And first: in what way can prose be made to resemble a beautiful poem or lyric? It is in metre, even more than in the choice of words, that poetry differs from prose. Consequently prose cannot become like metrical and lyrical writing, unless it contains, though not obtrusively, metres and rhythms within it. It must not be manifestly in metre or in rhythm (for in that case it will be a poem or a lyric and will desert its own specific character), but it is enough that it should simply appear rhythmical and metrical. It will thus be poetical, although not a poem; lyrical, although not a lyric. Passages are then taken from the opening of the Aristocrates and the Crown of Demosthenes and are subjected to a minute metrical analysis. The result of the scrutiny is (it is claimed) to show that many metrical lines are latent in good prose, the author having taken care to disguise slightly their metrical character. In an eloquent passage Dionysius then submits that the great end in view warranted all these anxious pains on the part of Demosthenes. Demosthenes was no mere peddler, but a consummate artist who had the judgment of posterity always before his mind. Isocrates, also, and Plato spent no less trouble on their writings, as witness the story about the opening passage of the Republic. It is, further, to be noticed that such careful processes, though deliberate at first, become in the end unconscious and almost instinctive, just as accomplished musicians do not think of every note they strike on their instrument, nor skilled readers of every single letter which meets their eyes in the book that lies open before them.
c. 26. Secondly (and lastly) comes a question which is the counterpart of that asked in c. 25: namely, in what way can a poem or lyric be made to resemble beautiful prose? The two principal means are: (1) so to arrange the clauses that they do not invariably begin and end together with the lines; (2) to vary the clauses and periods in length and form. These things are more difficult to do where the metre is uniform, as in heroic and iambic verse. In lyric poems the task is easier, since the variety of their metres brings them a point nearer to prose. At the same time, while avoiding monotony and while generally causing his verse to resemble beautiful prose, the poet must remember that the so-called “prosaic character” is a defect. We are, however, here thinking not of vulgar prose but of the highest civil oratory. In order to show that, in poetry, clauses can be of different sorts and sizes, and can also be so far independent of the metre as almost to give the effect of an unbroken prose-narrative, Dionysius draws some concluding illustrations from the 14th Odyssey, the Telephus of Euripides, and the Danaë of Simonides.
The following Tabular Analysis may help to make the general structure of the treatise still clearer: —
I. Chapters 1-5. Introductory. The nature of composition, and its effect. — Instances of the fatal neglect of composition. — The secret of composition not to be found in grammatical rules.
II. Chapters 6-20. General Theory and Technique of Composition: —
1. cc. 6-9:
(α) Three processes in the art of composition, c. 6.
(β) Grouping of clauses, c. 7.
(γ) Shaping of clauses, c. 8.
(δ) Lengthening and shortening of clauses and periods, c. 9.
2. cc. 10-20: Charm and beauty of composition, and the four means of attaining these qualities: —
(α) Preliminary remarks, cc. 10-13.
(β) Four means:
(1) μέλος, cc. 14-16.
(2) ῥυθμός, cc. 17, 18.
(3) μεταβολή, c. 19.
(4) τὸ πρέπον, c. 20.
III. Chapters 21-24. Three Modes of Composition: —
(1) σύνθεσις αὐστηρά, c. 22.
(2) σύνθεσις γλαφυρά, c. 23.
(3) σύνθεσις εὔκρατος (or κοινή), c. 24.
IV. Chapters 25, 26. Relation of Prose to Poetry, and of Poetry to Prose.
Note. — The existing division into chapters is not always a happy one. As a help to the reader, a few words of summary have been prefixed to each chapter of the English Translation.
The Greek Epitome is about one-third the length
of the original. It is of early but uncertain date (cp. Usener de Dionysii Halicarnassensis Libris Manuscriptis p. viii, n. 7), and is preserved in the following codices: Darmstadiensis, Monacensis, Rehdigeranus, Vaticanus Urbinas. It has survived along with the original; and instead of superseding and extinguishing the unabridged work, as ancient epitomes seem often to have done, it contributes not a little to its elucidation. Had it been preserved at the expense of the original, we should have still possessed the Sappho, but should have lost the Simonides. Towards the end, the Epitome is executed with less care than at the beginning.
II
The Order of Words in Greek
The strong and the weak points of the de Compositione Verborum will appear from the foregoing summary, and still more from the treatise itself and the notes appended to it. Dionysius’ book is unique: no other of its kind has come down to us from classical antiquity. Its immediate subject is the Order of Words in Greek. But its author is happily led to raise fundamental questions such as the relations between Prose and Poetry, together with incidental points of Greek Pronunciation and Accentuation; and generally to take so wide a range that no English title less comprehensive than On Literary Composition seems to fit the contents of the work. The discursive enthusiasm of the writer is obvious. Not less striking, however, is the sound literary taste which converts his quotations into a true anthology and preserves some priceless remains of Sappho and Simonides. It will be necessary to point out certain weaknesses of Dionysius from time to time. But his weaknesses are far more than counterbalanced by his great excellences. Some of his shortcomings are those of his age, — an age which was a stranger to the modern method of comparison as applied to literary investigation. Others, again, are more apparent than real. When, for example, certain omissions are observable in some directions along with ample expatiations in others, it is to be remembered (1) that Dionysius is dealing with the department of expression and not with that of subject matter, (2) that, in the department of expression, he is concerned with the composition (or arrangement) of words and not with their selection, and (3) that, in regard to composition, he is here interested primarily not in lucidity nor in emphasis, but in euphony. Hence we must not expect him to dwell on that great governing principle of literary composition, — logical connexion. To its importance, however, he is fully alive, as is clear from a passage in his essay on Isocrates: “The thought” [in Isocrates, who pays excessive heed to smoothness of style and a pleasant cadence] “is often the slave of rhythmical expression, and truth is sacrificed to elegance.... But the natural course is for the expression to follow the ideas, not the ideas the expression.” And though, in the de Compositione, it is his business to discourse rather upon sound than upon sense, yet the orderly way in which the subject matter of the treatise is presented shows in itself that Dionysius was well aware that the chief essential for a book is a basis of clear thinking and broad logical arrangement, and that, as a consequence, its excellence is to be sought even more in its chapters and its paragraphs than in its flowing periods. It may be well to touch, with a similar regard to sequence and with occasional references to modern parallels or contrasts, upon one or two aspects of his main theme which his own treatment of it suggests as suitable for further discussion and elucidation.
Delphi Complete Works of Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Illustrated) (Delphi Ancient Classics Book 79) Page 118
