That such associations are natural is obvious, Dionysius thinks, from onomatopœia, the earliest and simplest form of sound-connotation in words. But he does not shrink from pushing his doctrine far beyond this to the conclusion that sound effects both subtle and various may be achieved, and should be consciously sought, by literary art. The conclusion is inevitable, that style is beautiful when it contains beautiful words, that beauty of words is due to beautiful syllables and letters, that language is rendered charming by the things that charm the ear in virtue of affinities in words, syllables, and letters.... If, then, it were possible that all the parts of speech by which a given subject is to be expressed should be euphonious and elegant, it would be madness to seek out inferior ones. But if this be out of the question, as in many cases it is, then we must endeavor to mask the natural defects of the inferior letters by interweaving and mingling and juxtaposition.[35] The following instances of poetic effects gained by apt combinations of proper names that have no such suggestions singly will remind English readers of certain sonorous passages in Milton.[36] That the connotation of such combinations is due to their syllabic quality, however, as distinct from their rhythm, Dionysius hardly succeeds in establishing. The doctrine is flatly denied by Lewis. A certain learned and well-known student of verse says that (for example) gutturals and sibilants express “amazement, affright, indignation, contempt,” and he cites as an illustration a passage from Paradise Lost. Out of my sight, thou serpent; that name best Befits thee with him leagued, thyself as false And hateful; nothing wants but that thy shape Like his and color serpentine may show Thy inward fraud. One objection to this kind of doctrine is that it makes people think they have no ear for verse, for after careful reading they are still uncertain whether they can detect the effect described. Another objection to it is that it is not true. Compare with the lines quoted this little song from Browning’s Pippa Passes: The year’s at the spring, And day’s at the morn; Morning’s at seven; The hill-side’s dew-pearled; The lark’s on the wing; The snail’s on the thorn; God’s in his heaven— All’s right with the world. This is shorter by four syllables than the passage from Milton, but it has the same number of gutturals and two more sibilants; yet fancy describing it as an expression of “amazement, affright, indignation, contempt!”