"The loose wall tottering o'er the trembling shade."

Ogilvy's" Day of Fudgment."

"Trembling" has also the force of a dactyle in a less degree but cannot be written otherwise.

I have sometimes thought Virgil so remarkably musical, that were his lines read to a musician, wholly ignorant of the language, by a person of capacity to give each word it's proper accent, he would not fail to distinguish in it all the graces of harmony.

I think, I can observe a peculiar beauty in the addi-
tion of a short syllable, at the end of a blank verse:
I mean, however, in blank dialogue.
In other poe

try it is as sure to flatten; which may be discerned
in Prior's translation of "Callimachus," viz." the
holy victim-Dictæan, hearest thou-Birth, great
Rheă-Inferior reptile-" &c. &c. for the translation
abounds with them; and is rendered by these means
prosaic.
The case is only, prose being an im-
itation of common life, the nature of an ode requires
that it should be lifted some degrees higher.

But in dialogue, the language ought never to leave nature the least out of sight; and especially where pity is to be produced, it appears to receive an advantage from the melancholy flow this syllable occasions. Let me produce a few instances from Otway's tragedy of the "Unhappy Marriage;" and, in order to form a judgment, let the reader substitute a word of equal import, but of a syllable less, in the place of the instances I produce ( some instances are numberless, where they familiarize and give an ease to dialogue).

-“ Sure my ill fate's upon mě.”

—“Why was I not laid in my peaceful grave, with my poor parents, and at rest as they ǎre ?”

-“ I never see you now-you have been kindĕr.” "Why was I made with all my sex's softness. yet want the cunning to conceal it's follies? I'll see Castalio-tax him with his falsehood." -"Should you charge rough,

I should but weep, and answer you with sobbing.” "When thou art from me, every place is desert."

"" Surely Paradise is round me,

and every sense is full of thy perfection.

To hear thee speak might calm a madman's frenzy, till by attention he forgot his sorrows.”

"Till good men wish him dead—or I offend him.” -“ And hang upon you like a drowning creature."

Cropt this fair rose, and rifled all it's sweetness." "Give me Chamont, and let the world forsake mě. -“I've drank an healing draught

for all my cares, and never more shall wrong thee." -" When I'm luid low in the cold grave forgotten, may you be happy in a fairer bride,

but none can ever love

you like Monimia."

I should imagine, that, in some or most of these examples, a particular degree of tenderness is owing to the supernumerary syllable; yet it requires a nice ear for the disposition of it (for it must not be universal); and, with this, may give at once an harmonious flow, a natural ease, an energy, tenderness, and variety to the language. A man of dry sound judgment attends to the truth of the proposition; a man of ear and sensibility to the music of the versification:

a man of a well regulated taste finds the former more

deeply imprinted on him, by the judicious management of the latter. It seems to me, that what are called notes at the bottom of pages (as well as parenthesis in writing) might be generally avoided, without injuring the thread of a discourse. It is true, it might require some address to interweave them gracefully into the text; but how much more agreeable would be the effect, than to interrupt the reader by such frequent avocations? How much more graceful to play a tune upon one set of keys, with varied stops, than to seek the same variety by an awkward motion from one set to another?

It bears a little hard on our candour, that "to take to pieces," in our language, signifies the same as "to expose;" and "to expose" has a signification, which good-nature can as little allow, as can the laws of etymology. The ordinary letters from friend to friend seem capable of receiving a better turn, than mere compliment, frivolous intelligence, or professions of friendship continually repeated. The established maxim, to correspond with ease, has almost excluded every useful subject. But may not excess of negligence discover affectation, as well as it's opposite extreme? There are many degrees of intermediate solidity betwixt a Westphalia ham and a whipt syllabub. I am astonished to remark the defect of ear, which some tolerably harmonious poets discover in their Alexandrines. It seems wonderful that an error so obvious, and so very disgustful to a nice ear, should occur so frequently as the following:

"What seraph e'er could preach

so choice a lecture as his wond'rous virtue's lore?"

The pause being after the sixth syllable, it is plain

the whole emphasis of pronunciation is thrown on It seems most amazing to me, that

the particle as.

"Sim

this should be so common a blunder. plex munditiis" has been esteemed universally to be a phrase at once very expressive, and of very difficult interpretation: at least, not very capable to be explained without circumlocution. What objection

can we make to that single word "elegant," which excludes the glare and multiplicity of ornaments, on one side, as much as it does dirt and rusticity on the other? The French use the word " naïve" in such a sense as to be explained by no English word; unless we will submit to restrain ourselves in the application of the word "sentimental." It means the language of passion or the heart, in opposition to the language of reflection and the head. The most frequent mistake that is made, seems to be that of the means for the end: thus riches for happiness, and thus learning for sense. The former of these is hourly observable: and as to the latter, methinks, this age affords frequent and surprising instances. It is with real concern, that I observe many persons of true poetic genius endeavouring to quench their native fire, that they may exhibit learning without a single spark of it. Nor is it uncommon to see an author translate a book, when, with half the pains, he could write a better: but the translation savours more of learning; and gives room for notes, which exhibit Learning, like money, may be of so base a coin, as to be utterly void of use; or, if sterling, may require good management to make it serve the purposes of sense or happiness. When a nobleman has once conferred any great favour on his inferior, he ought thenceforth to consider, that

more.

his requests, his advice, and even his intimations, become commands; and to propose matters with the utmost tenderness. The person whom he obliges has otherwise lost his freedom:

"Hac ego si compellar imagine, cuncta resigno:

nec somnum plebis laudo satur altilium; nec

otia divitiis Arabum liberrima muto."

The amiable and the severe, Mr. Burke's sublime and beautiful, by different proportions, are mixed in every character. Accordingly, as either is predominant, men imprint the passion of love or fear. The best punch depends on a proper mixture of sugar. and lemon.

ON MEN AND MANNERS.

There are many persons acquire to themselves, character of insincerity, from what is, in truth, mere inconstancy. And there are persons of warm, but changeable, passions; perhaps the sincerest of any in the very instant they make profession, but the very least to be depended on through the short duration of all extremes. It has often puzzled me, on this account, to ascertain the character of Lady Luxborough; yet whatever were her principles, I esteem Lord Bolingbroke's to have been the same. She seemed in all respects the female Lord Bolingbroke.

*

The principal, if not the only, difference betwixt honesty and honour, seems to lie in their different motives: the object of the latter being reputation; and of the former duty. It is the greatest

* Sister to Lord Bolingbroke; with her the author had enjoyed a literary correspondence.