those lines. The vitious custom of contracting our syllables, in order to reduce them to the standard of five accented and five unaccented, would make us read these verses in the manner following:

Than which contractions, and neglect of the natural length of the syllables composing these verses, nothing could be more inharmonious and barbarous. Again, we have a similar example in the following verse:

The wounded bull,

Roar❜d bellowing, whilst rebellowing rang the woods.

If accent may always supply the place of time, and the harmony of the verse depends on a strict adherence to accent we must necessarily read the verse thus:

The wounded bull,

Roar❜d bell'wing, whilst rebell' wing rang the woods.

On the other hand, if the harmony of verse principally consists, as I conceive it does, in the consonance or affinity which the words of such verse bear to their meaning, or in their propriety or aptitude to express that meaning, we should certainly find it in giving every syllable of this verse its full sound and natural length, thus,

"The wounded bull

"Roar❜d bellowing, whilst rebellowing rang the woods.

The discerning and judicious hearer will not only infer, from these examples, the necessity of making a distinction between accent and mere time, but also the necessity of carefully attending to both; the one being no more to be neglected in reading with propriety than the other.

It is indeed possible to write Iambic, Trochaic, Hexameter, and every other species of ancient verse in English; but while emphasis and accent have so great a share in the composition of our numbers, a bare attention to the length of syllables, would make but very lame and very imperfect verses. Hence, though in reading the heroic measure in blank verse, the principles of harmony require the observance of the final pause at the end of each line, yet too slavish an observance of the classical mode of scanning by long and short syllables, and the exact modulation of feet and measure, would produce such a degree of mechanical stiffness, as would not only effectually destroy the proper harmony of the 'verse, and just expression of the sentiment, but render it altogether disgusting to an English ear, being so diametrically opposed to the genius and idiom of our language.

All speech naturally divides itself into long and short syllables. Whatever language we speak, or whether it be quantity or accent, that we attend to in

it, we pronounce some syllables with more rapidity than others; and the art of versification universally consists in the disposition of long or short sylla bles according to some rule. In some kinds of verse indeed there is more latitude than in others, but an utter inattention to the length of the syllables would quite destroy the harmony of any versification, or of what in English supplies the place of them, accented and unaccented syllables.

The regular disposition of the long and short, or accented and unaccented, syllables, necessarily divides every verse into certain distinct portions or feet, and the classical harmony of a verse is most distinctly perceived when these portions or feet are marked by what is called scanning a line, or distinctly marking those feet by the voice; because then the regular disposition of the long and short syllables or accented and unaccented syllables, in which the essence of verse consists, is most evident.

The harmony of prose does not depend upon any regular return of long of short syllables, or accented and unaccented syllables, for that would constitute it verse, but is consistent with any disposition of long and short syllables, that are easy to pronounce, and at the same time express the sense. Very many long syllables coming together, make a style rough and heavy; and many short syllables have likewise a disagreeable effect, because there is nothing to support the voice, and for want of that it is apt to hurry on, and embarras itself. For this reason people who are inclined to stammer, find great difficulty in pronouncing many short syllables together: as would be the case in the following sentence:

"The doctrine which he principally preached, I apprehend to be erroneous, and of a pernicious tendency."

Those single words are the most agreeable to the ear, in which the long and short syllables are the most remarkably distinguishable, because they contain the greatest variety of sound. This excellence we perceive in many polysyllables, as rapidity, impetuosity, independent, administration, &c. On the same principle; in constructing language so as to form a discourse, a uniform observance of either the style periodique, or the style coupé, would soon fatigue the ear; but by a due intermixture of both, be the subject what it may, the ear is gratified, and consequently the mind more willingly informed.

Pauses must also be carefully attended to in the reading of prose as well as verse; and since the voice must rest, it is convenient and proper that provision be made for its resting at proper intervals. But having dwelt so long upon Quantity, I must reserve the discussion of that branch of our subject, for my next Lecture.

EPISTOLARY FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

Copy of a Letter from the justly celebrated Dr. Beattie to a gentleman in this city who transmitted to him the certificate of his election into the American Philosophical Society.

SIR,

Aberdeen, 12th December, 1786.

I HAD the honour to receive your letter about six weeks ago, together with the diploma. I was then confined by a severe illness, which has proved very tedious, and of which I have not yet got the better! This will serve as an apology for my long silence.

And now, sir, when I sit down to write, I am really at a loss for words to express the warmth of my gratitude to you, and the high sense I entertain of the very great honour done me by the American Philosophical Society. If circumstances would permit, I should be happy in an opportunity of crossing the Atlantic, and returning my thanks in person. But, that not being in my power, I must satisfy myself with asuring them by letter, that I shall, to the end of my life, retain a most grateful sense of their goodness, and (which I know they will look upon as the best return I can make for it) endeavour, to the utmost of my poor abilities, so to promote the cause of Truth and of Good Learning as to prove myself not altogether unworthy of their friendship. To be connected with so respectable and learned a society, is a circumstance which I can never cease to reflect upon with most particular satisfaction.

I must beg you will present my humble respects and most affectionate compliments to the illustrious and venerable president,* and the other learned gentlemen, whose subscriptions do me so much honour. May their labours for the improvement of the human mind, and the advancement of human happiness be ever successful. Though, for the wisest purposes no doubt, Providence has so disposed affairs, that I cannot now have the happiness to call the Citizens of the United States of America my fellow subjects, I must ever love them as my brethren, and rejoice in their prosperity.

I have the honour to be, with the most perfect regard and esteem,

MR. OLDSCHOOL,

The annexed letter has degenerated into a kind of essay, and yet remains a very imperfect aggregate of desultory ideas on a subject well deserving to be fully treated by an abler hand. If, notwithstanding, you should think it not unworthy of a place in your magazine, you have my consent for its pub

lication.

I remain, respectfully,

Your obedient servant,

E. B.

FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

MAN CONSTITUTIONALLY MORAL.

I HAVE read with much attention, and a considerable degree of interest, in the first number of your valuable magazine, the paper signed Analyticus, calling in question the correctness of the opinion of the celebrated Adam Smith, in conceiving sympathy to arise from the power of imagination, which causes us involuntarily to participate in the pains and pleasures of others, and in considering this sympathy as the basis of our moral sentiments.

Mr. Smith has not, it appears to me, established his idea with all that precision and force of argument of which it is susceptible, nor followed it through its various ramifications, but it is so fertile in useful rules when applied to society, and it leads to so many interesting reflections, that I think it of the utmost importance its truth should be generally felt and acknowledged.

To supply what Mr. Smith has omitted; to throw light on what he has left obscure, or to finish those parts of his system which he has only sketched-is a task which I presume not to undertake, nor could it be attempted in a paper destined for your magazine; but I may be permitted, perhaps, to examine a little the solidity of the objections of your correspondent, which, I hope, he will be the more disposed to receive in good part as the signature he has adopted seems to invite rather than to repel a rigorous scrutiny.

Your correspondent admits, that imagination is necessary to excite sympathy, for, he says, without bringing home the situation of another to ourselves we can form no conception of his sensations, and we cannot be influenced by what we cannot conceive; but, he continues, this power of the imagination, which brings home the situation of others to ourselves, does not appear sufficiently to explain why a conception of the existence of certain feelings in another should awaken emotion in us. He admits that imagination causes the conception of the feelings

of another; but he does not see why this conception should be likewise productive of emotions, of fellow feelings, and therefore he thinks the explanation of Adam Smith deficient.

I see a man who is undergoing torture in the hands of the executioner; I see how his nails are torn off, one by one, with an instrument contrived for that purpose; I see how the muscles of his face are convulsed; how he is writhing with pain and anguish-that it is the power of the mind, denominated imagination, which enables me to form a conception of the sufferings of this poor wretch Analyticus admits, but he is at a loss to comprehend why I might not remain perfectly cool and composed at the sight, unless the Author of our being had implanted in my breast another distinct, independent power, which is called sympathy.

This, therefore, is the point in which he differs from Mr. Smith, Both seem to agree that sympathy, that the painful or pleasurable feelings excited in ourselves by the affections of others, are the cause of our morality-because it is to allay these painful feelings in us that we fly to their relief, as we are, impelled to make them glad by the pleasing reaction of their gladness on our own sensibility. But with Adam Smith this sympathy is the necessary result of our imagination, which involuntarily makes us change place with the object affected, and excites affection in ourselves; while with your correspondent, it is an implanted, distinct power. For though he agrees that imagination causes conception, yet this bare conception, he thinks, cannot cause emotion.

This difficulty, however, would have vanished, if Analyticus had paid some attention to the laws of association, which act so important a part in our physical as well as moral economy, and without a due consideration of which, every attempt to form a just idea of man, and to explain his nature must prove unsuccessful.

It is certainly true, that there exists no essential connexion between our ideas and the emotions excited by those ideas, no more than between these letters and the sounds they express, or these sounds and the things they represent. If there were an essential connexion, the ideas and corresponding emotions must be inseparable, which is by no means always the case, though they will generally accompany each other whenever what I should like to term the regular, the standard reciprocity of thoughts and feelings in an individual has not been interrupted or changed by the operation of unusual circumstances.

When a child for the first time sees blood issuing from a wound in the arm of a third person, without hearing groans, or perceiving the expression of pain in the face of the wounded or the bystander; or at a period of life before it has learned to understand the meaning of groans