must be fenfible of a complete clofe or full paufe. This effect is produced by the following means: every line invariably is finifhed with two long fyllables, preceded by two fhort; a fine preparation for a full clofe. Syllables pronounced flow refemble a flow and languid motion leading to reft. The mind, put in the fame tone by the pronunciation, is naturally difpoted to a paufe. And to this difpofition the two preceding fhort fyllables contribute; for thefe, by contraft, make the flow pronunciation of the final fyllables the more confpicuous. Befide this complete clofe or full paufe at the end, others are alfo requifite for the fake of melody. I difcover two clearly, and perhaps there may be more. The longest and most remarkable fucceeds the fifth portion, according to the foregoing measure. The other, which being more faint, may be called the femi-paufe, fucceeds the eighth portion; fo ftriking is the paufe first mentioned, as to be diftinguished even by the rudeft ear. The Monkifh rhymes are evidently built upon it. In thefe, it is an invariable rule, to make the final word chime with that which immediately precedes the paufe:

De plan&tu cudo | mitrum cum carmine nudo

Mingere cum bumibis | res eft faluberrima lumbis."

His Lordship then proceeds to make fome very curious and juft remarks on English rhyme, which he illuftrates by inftances from the moft admired poets and towards the conclufion of this fection, he affigns feveral reafons, in our opinion unanswerable, why blank verfe is preferable to rhyme, where force and elevation of language is requifite. But we muft not forget that other articles claim a place; and though it is with reluctance that we quit a fubject, which, of all others within the circle of literature is most interesting and entertaining, yet we muft poftpone the remainder of this article to our next number, in which we fhall take the third volume into confideration, and clofe the whole with fome general obfervations on the execution of this ingenious work.

New Dialogues of the Dead. 8vo. 3s. fewed. Dodfley.

THE

HE grand defect of modern productions, written in the form of dialogue, is, that the circumftance, in which their effential difference from other literary performances fhould confit, is too often mere matter of form.

The

The many unfuccefsful attempts that have been made in this fpecies of writing, fufficiently indicate the difficulty of fuf-* taining the variety of characters introduced, of making them express themselves on all occafions confiftently, and of giving the whole converfation that eafe and fpirit, which are requifite to the perfection of dialogue.

With respect to that particular fpecies of this compofition, which introduces the imaginary perfonages of the dead, Lucian, the father of it, ftill bears away the palm from his fucceffors, many of whom have voluntarily laid themfelves under confiderable difadvantages, by profeffedly imitating him. It is hardly poffible for any one, who endeavours to tread in the fteps, or even loofely to follow the track of another, to walk with that native eafe and gracefulness of mein, which may be otherwise peculiar to him. A certain ftiffness or constraint will always appear, even in the affected cafe of an imitator, who is never at full liberty to exert the ftrength and vivacity of his own genius. Other reafons might be given, to account for the manifeft fuperiority of Lucian in this respect, without recurring to that of natural abilities; the style and fubjects of his dialogues were more various and ftriking, and confequently more interefting and entertaining, than thofe of moft of his fucceffors. In the attempts of the moderns, indeed, want of variety in the ftyle, and importance in the fubject, have been remarkably confpicuous. Fontenelle, it is true, has not unfuccefsfully imitated the humorous Greek in his fprightlinefs and raillery. This ingenious Frenchman, however, is, like most of his countrymen, often sprightly to excefs; his wit is frequently forced, and the turn of his repartee quaint and affected: the manly ftrength, unaffected eafe, and ingenious fimplicity of Lucian, are what none of his imitators could arrive at.

The profeffed intention of the prefent writer is "to revere at a great distance the inimitable Lucian, and to fteer directly between the unadorned gravity of Cambray, and the refined fprightliness of Fontenelle."

As to the celebrated Archbishop of Cambray, he can hardly be efteemed, in any degree, an imitator of Lucian, though he may ferve as a contraft to Fontenelle, having taken a different route, more agreeable to his turn and difpofition. If Fontenelle was thought to have too much levity, Fenelon was judged too grave; if one was too whimfical and fprightly, the other was too formal and even dull: neither of them had attained to that happy combination of fpirit and fubftance that

fo

fo eminently distinguish the inimitable Greek. How evenly our author has fteered his intended courfe between them, will, in fome meafure, appear from the following specimens of his style and manner.

In his fourteenth dialogue, he introduces a Stoic philofopher and the Mogul, arguing the point, whether it be better for man to put off the evil hour as long as he can, by expelling and avoiding disagreeable reflections and images of distress, or to prepare for misfortune and death, by familiarizing ourfelves to the ideas and images of pain and mortality? After having expofed fome of the idle cuftoms practifed by the monarchs of the east, the Stoic proceeds.

"Stoic. As to the prohibition of the name of death in your prefence, did you likewife prohibit it in the public and private hiftories of your kingdom? were the writings of your fubjects as complaisant to you as their conversation? or, if they were, could you expect the fame fubferviency in the moralifts of other nations? and, above all, would the free-born spirit of our philofophy crouch to you, like that of the wretches you commanded?

Mogul. I did not expect this.

"Stoic. If you did, had you guarded likewife against the thoughts of all the approaches to diffolution, as well as diffolution itself? did you forbid, with the name of death, the name of all things connected with it, its various minifters, inftruments, and means?

Mogul. No.

"Stoic. Were the flaves that ftood before the cowardly monarch as careful of pronouncing the word mifery as death? did they never say any thing of famine, peftilence, or fword? were the numberlefs train of difeafes unmentioned or unknown? were, in fhort, all the various accidents that destroy the human species utterly concealed and kept from view?

"Mogul. This was impoffible.

"Stoic. Then it was likewife impoffible that you should be free from this fear; fince, of the infinite variety of avenues that lead to this formidable evil, you had, according to your own confeffion, fhut up only two.

"Mogal. Well, this was however fomething.

"Staic.

"Stoic. No; directly contrary: and I may affert farther,. that if you had fhut up not only two but a million, your cafe would have only been the more deplorable.

Mogul. Though your fect has been always famous for paradoxes, yet furely this is a stranger one than has ever yet. been maintained.

your

"Stoic. As ftrange as it is, I make no doubt but that if you had attended, like other mortals, to the feeling of own heart, and the view of human misfortunes, you would have seen it verified a thoufand times. For, as exalted as your station was, I fuppofe it was not always free from danger and vexation.

"Mogul. Probably.

"Stoic. Then this danger and vexation, whenever it happened, was always doubled to you above the rest of your fellow-creatures. But if it was not free from vexation, fo neither was it free from disease.

<< Mogul. No.

"Stoic. Then this disease likewife had not only every poffible aggravation that illness itfelf could have, but was also increased an hundred-fold, by the dreadful apprehenfions it brought along with it of an evil that was fo terrible, that you durft not hear it mentioned.

Mogul. But why muft all this be augmented to me, more than to any other man?

"Stoic. Because it was fudden and unlooked-for; and because it happened to one who had neither been used to bear misfortunes, nor reflect on them. I will explain what I mean to you by a very celebrated example, which yet probably may not have come to your knowlege, because the word death is in the ftory.When the news of his fon's death was brought to Athenagoras, his only lamentation was, "I knew that I begot him mortal." But now the frantic and unmanly grief of a Mogul on this occafion, his wild. afpect, and indecent eruptions, his rent purple, his ravings and despair

Mogul. Hold! who told you of all this?

"Stoic. Experience, as well as reafon; from both which I am affured, that men of your complexion are the reverse of the philofopher juft' mentioned; and on the death of their fa

vourite

vourite child, act as if they thought they had begot him immortal. And now on comparison of these two forts of men, it is cafy to discover who has taken the best way to happiness.

"Mogul. So eafy, that I fee you have already determined how I would have acted in diftrefs, and that it is impoffible for one of my caft to be as cafy under affliction as your philofopher.

"Stoic. True; for let us depend upon it, that all sudden evils are the moft terrible; that they always leffen in proportion as they are reflected on; and that every man who is prepared for a misfortune has half overcome it; that this is not only a doctrine of the Grecian fchool, but that it is equally true both in the eaft and the weft; and that the man who neglects it is equally unhappy, whether he be Stoic or Mogul."

We could wifh that the characters our author hath introduced were, in general, better known; and that the fubjects of their converfation were lefs trite, and more univerfally interefting. In giving this intimation, however, it is but just to mention the limited extent of our author's defign.

If, in the execution of this work, fays he, I can felect fome critical and important parts in the lives of fome re markable perfons; if I can make them fpeak in a manner fuitable to their character and dignity; if I can draw the reader's attention by a certain spirit and embellishment proper to the narration; and if, in the conclufion, I can collect fome useful point of doctrine for the conduct of human life; I fhall then have done all that my prefent plan admits of." It is certain we have no right to expect more than is promifed; but though this may be fufficient to juftify the author in the eyes of a candid critic, we are apprehenfive fomething farther may be required of him, if he expects to engage, in any confiderable degree, the attention and applaufe of the public.

In the following extract from the fourteenth dialogue, our author makes Lucian plead against the furious zealot, Mellinius*, on the impropriety of engaging perfecution, defamation, or calumny on the fide of Chriftianity.

Mellinius was a Catholic Writer of the tenth century, who wrote a book, on purpose to collect all the p gan calumnies thrown upon Christianity; but wrote it in fo angry and peevish a manner, that, by a fate not uncommon to fuch furious bigots, he laid himself open to all the cenfure he had caft upon the Heathens, and became himself as violent a calumniator as any mentioned in his work.

"Lucian.