(6) οὐ λίθοις ἐτείχισα τὴν πόλιν οὐδὲ πλίνθοις ἐγώ, οὐδ’ ἐπὶ τούτοις μέγιστον τῶν ἐμαυτοῦ φρονῶ.
Demosthenes de Corona § 299.
(7) ὑπὲρ τῶν ἐχθρῶν πεπολίτευσαι πάντα, ἐγὼ δ’ ὑπὲρ τῆς πατρίδος.
id. ib. § 265.
In connexion with the imperfect appreciation which the de Compositione Verborum shows of a normal order and of an emphasis produced by departure from it, attention may be drawn to the fact that the treatise contains no reference to the ‘figure’ hyperbaton; and this although the figure had been recognized long before Dionysius’ time, and continued to be recognized long afterwards. It is first mentioned by Plato, who probably took over the notion from the Sophists: ἀλλ’ ὑπερβατὸν δεῖ θεῖναι ἐν τῷ ᾄσματι τὸ “ἀλαθέως” (Plato Protag. 343 E, where the reference is to a poem of Simonides). The author of the Rhetorica ad Alexandrum (c. 30) indicates it in the following terms: ἐὰν μὴ ὑπερβατῶς αὐτὰ [sc. τὰ ὀνόματα] τιθῶμεν, ἀλλ’ ἀεὶ τὰ ἐχόμενα ἑξῆς τάττωμεν. Quintilian treats of it in the passage beginning “Hyperbaton quoque, id est verbi transgressionem, quoniam frequenter ratio comparationis et decor poscit, non immerito inter virtutes habemus” (Inst. Or. viii. 6. 62).[32] The author of the Treatise on the Sublime describes and defines it thus: ἔστι δὲ λέξεων ἢ νοήσεων ἐκ τοῦ κατ’ ἀκολουθίαν κεκινημένη τάξις καὶ οἱονεὶ χαρακτὴρ ἐναγωνίου πάθους ἀληθέστατος (Longinus de Sublim. c. 22).[33] And, later still, Hermogenes and other writers on rhetoric are well acquainted with the figure. Dionysius, however, mentions it but seldom in any of his writings, and even then (e.g. τὰς ὑπερβατοὺς καὶ πολυπλόκους καὶ ἐξ ἀποκοπῆς πολλὰ σημαίνειν πράγματα βουλομένας καὶ διὰ μακροῦ τὰς ἀποδόσεις λαμβανούσας νοήσεις, de Thucyd. c. 52; cp. c. 31 ibid.) is clearly thinking not of desirable but of highly undesirable “inversions.” He may have thought that its proper place was in poetry rather than in prose.
E. Euphony
A modern writer on style would probably lay more stress on clearness and emphasis than on euphony. The ancient critics, on the other hand, seem to have taken the two former elements more or less for granted. Because they were easily attainable in languages so fully inflected as Greek and Latin, their attainment was regarded as an important matter indeed, but one which called for no special recognition of any kind. As Quintilian says, in reference to clearness, “nam emendate quidem ac lucide dicentium tenue praemium est, magisque ut vitiis carere quam ut aliquam magnam virtutem adeptus esse videaris” (Inst. Or. viii. 3. 1).[34] Dionysius, too, in the de Compositione Verborum, passes more readily over the two qualities of clearness and emphasis because he is not concerned with the πραγματικὸς τόπος.[35] He keeps rigorously to his real subject; and that is not the relation of words to the ideas of which they are the symbols. It is, rather, their relation to their own constituent elements (letters and syllables of diverse qualities and quantities) and to the pleasant impression which the apt collocation of many various words can make upon the ear. His task is to investigate the emotional power of the sound-elements of language when alone and when in combination—their euphonic and their symphonic effects. Hence the constant recurrence, throughout the treatise, of words like εὐφωνία, εὐρυθμία, εὐστομία, λειότης, ἁρμονία, σύνθεσις. The illustrative excerpts which he gives are so numerous and so happily chosen that no others need be added here.[36] A careful study of his examples, in the context in which they occur, will suggest many reflexions upon the freedom and adaptability of Greek order. But no absolute test of euphony
can be based upon them. Dionysius himself formulates no invariable rules upon the subject. In the last resort, the court of appeal must, as he sees, be the instinctive judgment of the ear (τὸ ἄλογον τῆς ἀκοῆς πάθος).[37] The part played by the ear has been well described by Quintilian: “ergo quem in poëmate locum habet versificatio, eum in oratione compositio. optime autem de illa iudicant aures, quae plena sentiunt et parum expleta desiderant et fragosis offenduntur et levibus mulcentur et contortis excitantur et stabilia probant, clauda deprehendunt, redundantia ac nimia fastidiunt” (Inst. Or. ix. 4. 116). Naturally the ear in question must be the individual ear (“aurem tuam interroga, quo quid loco conveniat dicere,” Aulus Gellius Noctes Att. xiii. 21); the criterion is subjective, not absolute.[38] But it is assumed that the ear in question has been trained and attuned by constant converse with the great masters, and that (like Flaubert in modern times) an author never writes without repeating the words aloud to himself. Thus trained, the ear will work in harmony with the mind: “aures enim vel animus aurium nuntio naturalem quandam in se continet vocum omnium mensionem” (Cic. Orat. 53. 177). Both Cicero and Dionysius are well aware that style is personal and individual,—that it is no uniform and mechanical thing. Dionysius’ own position has been misunderstood by those who have judged the de Compositione as if it were a complete treatise on the entire subject of style. In the eyes of Dionysius, words are not what dead stone and timber are in the eyes of the ordinary workman. They are, rather, the living elements which, in the secret places of his mind, the master-builder views as potential parts of some great temple.[39] They are what an individual makes them. Hence, just as Cicero writes “qua re sine, quaeso, sibi quemque scribere,
Suam quoíque sponsam, míhi meam; suum quoíque amorem, míhi meum”: