the exclamation, of all the
subtleties, all the shades of meaning, all the delicacies contained
in THE NOT TO BE TRANSLATED words. We have cited some examples which,
joined to others, induce us to believe that this language has the
advantage of making images of abstract nouns, and that in the course of
its development, through the poetic genius of the nation, it has been
enabled to establish striking and just relations between ideas by
etymologies, derivations, and synonymes. Colored reflections of light
and shade are thus thrown upon all expressions, so that they necessarily
call into vibration through the mind the correspondent tone of a third,
which modulates the thought into a major or minor mode. The richness
of the language always permits the choice of the mode, but this very
richness may become a difficulty. It is not impossible that the general
use of foreign tongues in Poland may be attributed to indolence of
mind or want of application; may be traced to a desire to escape the
necessary labor of acquiring that mastery of diction indispensable in
a language so full of sudden depths, of laconic energy, that it is very
difficult, if not quite impossible, to support in it the commonplace.
The vague agreements of badly defined ideas cannot be compressed in the
nervous strength of its grammatical forms; the thought, if it be really
low, cannot be elevated from its debasement or poverty; if it really
soar above the commonplace, it requires a rare precision of terms not
to appear uncouth or fantastic. In consequence of this, in proportion
to the works published, the Polish literature should be able to show a
greater number of chefs-d'oeuvre than can be done in any other language.
He who ventures to use this tongue, must feel himself already master.

[Footnote: It cannot be reproached with a want of harmony or musical
charm. The harshness of a language does not always and absolutely depend
upon the number of consonants, but rather upon the manner of their
association. We might even assert, that in consequence of the absence of
well-determined and strongly marked sounds, some languages have a dull
and cold coloring. It is the frequent repetition of certain consonants
which gives shadow, rhythm, and vigor to a tongue; the vowels imparting
only a kind of light clear hue, which requires to be brought out by
deeper shades. It is the sharp, uncouth, or unharmonious clashing of
heterogeneous consonants which strikes the ear pa