ambic foot. And yet to this neglect of the original
beat there is a limit.

"Athens, the eye of Greece, mother of arts,"[19]

is, with all its eccentricities, a good heroic line; for though it
scarcely can be said to indicate the beat of the iamb, it certainly
suggests no other measure to the ear. But begin

"Mother Athens, eye of Greece,"

or merely "Mother Athens," and the game is up, for the trochaic beat has
been suggested. The eccentric scansion of the groups is an adornment;
but as soon as the original beat has been forgotten, they cease
implicitly to be eccentric. Variety is what is sought; but if we destroy
the original mould, one of the terms of this variety is lost, and we
fall back on sameness. Thus, both as to the arithmetical measure of the
verse, and the degree of regularity in scansion, we see the laws of
prosody to have one common purpose: to keep alive the opposition of two
schemes simultaneously followed; to keep them notably apart, though
still coincident; and to balance them with such judicial nicety before
the reader, that neither shall be unperceived and neither signally
prevail.

The rule of rhythm in prose is not so intricate. Here, too, we write in
groups, or phrases, as I prefer to call them, for the prose phrase is
greatly longer and is much more nonchalantly uttered than the group in
verse; so that not only is there a greater interval of continuous sound
between the pauses, but, for that very reason, word is linked more
readily to word by a more summary enunciation. Still, the phrase is the
strict analogue of the group, and successive phrases, like successive
groups, must differ openly in length and rhythm. The rule of scansion in
verse is to suggest no measure but the one in hand; in prose, to suggest
no measure at all. Prose must be rhythmical, and it may be as much so as
you will; but it must not be metrical. It may be anything, but it must
not be verse. A single heroic line may very well pass and not disturb
the somewhat larger stride of the prose style; but one following another
will produce an instant impression of poverty, flatness, and
disenchantment. The same lines delivered with the measured utterance of
verse would perhaps seem rich in variety. By the more summary
enunciation proper to prose, as to a more distant vision, these niceties
of difference are lost. A whole verse is uttered as one phrase; and the
ear is soon wearied by a succession of groups identical in length.