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judges of the subject than myself; and I shall be very glad to see them followed by improved remarks, upon this tine and liberal art. Your's, &c. WILLIAM NEILSON.

Dundalk, May 24, 1809.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

SIR,

INCE my last communication on the

Silje en y fast communication on the

vered, that Eustathius gained his information, concerning the phenomena there mentioned, from a Life of Isidore, written by Damascius, who also composed four books de Incredibilibus, which have never scen the light, but inay probably lie concealed in the Vatican library; where some unedited philosophical works of this author are stated, by Hæsehelius, to be preserved. They were probably of equal value with the Mirabilia of Antigonus the Carystian, and the Incredibilia of Apollonius and Phlegon Trallianus; the second of whom should be consulted for the sake of a curious description of the British Isles. This Damascius, of whose history I know little more than that he seems to have lived shortly after the time of Severus, falls under the heavy dis pleasure of the pious and learned patriarch Photius; who, in more places than one, mildly reproves him with the appellations of a fool, an atheist, a polytheist, and an impious wretch, for sleeping, as he terms it, in the deep darkness of idolatry. At the same time, he does not withhold from him the praise of writing in a style neither inelegant nor obscure. If any judgment is to be formed from the little which remains of him, the good patriarch must have been easily pleased.

Before I transcribe the passage in question, as extracted by Photius from the original work, I will notice a curious coincidence of appellations, p. 1043, ad fin. Báßia dì oi zúgoi, xai párista of ex sapas, τὰ νεογιὰ καλέσαιδία. It should be ob

served, to the credit of this sophist, that he does not appear to be unacquainted with the Attic poets, since he quotes Eschylus, though the words are inixed with the prose, and Eupolis, p. 1035. We may collect from the words of Photius, p. 363, that he was not far removed from the age of Achilles Tatius and Heliodorus. But to the extract in question, p. 1041. Ἀλλὰ καὶ τὸν (Ι. τῶν περὶ ̓Αντίλων ἕνα ὄντα, τὸν Βαλίμεςιν, ἀπὸ τοῦ οικείου σώματος απο πάλλειν σπινθήρας· ὅδε ἦν ὁ Βαλίμερος ὁ Θευδερίχου πατὴς, ὃς νῦν τὸ μέγιστον ἔχει κρά

της Ιταλίας ἁπάσης· λέγει δὲ καὶ περὶ ἑαυτοῦ ὁ guyygapaùs (i. e. Damascius), a na imel ἐνδυομένω τε καὶ ἐκδυομένῳ, εἰ καὶ σπανιον τοῦτο συμβαίνει, συμβαίνει δ ̓ οὖν, σπινθήρας ἀποπηδαν ἐξαισίους, ἔσθ ̓ ὅτε καὶ κτύπου παρέχοντας· ἑνώτε δὲ καὶ φλόγας ὅλας καταλάμπειν τὸ ἱμάτιον, μὴ μέντοι καιούσας· καὶ τὸ τέρας ἀγνοεῖν, εἰς λευτήσει. ἰδεῖν δὲ λέγει καὶ ἄνθρωπόν τινα ἀπὸ τῆς κεφαλῆς ἀφιέντα σπινθῆρας· ἀλλὰ καὶ φλόγα ἀναπτοντα, τέβούλοιτο, ἱματίῳ τινὶ τραχεῖ παρατριβομένης.

TE

The concluding words are very remarkable, inasmuch as they clearly ascertain the electrical nature of this luminous appearance, which was produced by rubbing his head with a coarse cloth, probably a woollen one. I perceive, that I inadvertently erred in my preceding communication; for I believe that a dry skin is non-electric, and the luminous phænomena described will often take place, upon suddenly stripping flannel from the skin, or silk from flannel. I have made one or two slight alterations in the Greek text; but I do not think it correct as it now stands-we should read, καὶ φλόγας ὅλας καταλάμπειν, μὴ μέντοι τὸ fuáriov xaιosas. We want also the words οὐ μόνον after κεφαλῆς.

appears

from

As I alluded in my last to the theories of geologists, I will venture to produce a few more examples, to shew that the modern notions on these subjects are not entirely new. Zeno, as it Laërtius, entertained opinions similar to those held by the Neptunians of the present day. Indeed, Thales seems to have been the father of the scct; and he, perhaps, as Lipsius says, took the hint from Homer.

Ωκεανοῦ, ὅσπερ γένεοις πάντεσσι τέτυκται.

Homer himself, probably, learned this from the Brachimins, in whose opinion, according to Strabo, xai per riv συμπάντων ἕτερα, τῆς δὲ κοσμουποιίας ὕδως. To rise a step higher, the Indian philoso phers might have been instructed by the Egyptians, whom Philo Judæus states to have held similar opinions. Manilius l. 1. briefly states this and the Huttonian theory:

Seu liquor boc peperit, sine quo riget arida

rerum

Materies, ipsumque vocat, quo solvitur, ignem 1" The great author of the Huttonian or Vulcanian theory, was Heraclitus, whom most of the stoics, and even sometimes Zeno himself, followed. He taught, iis täsa κόσμιον, γεννᾶσθαι δὲ αὐτὸν ἐκ πυρός, καὶ πάλιν ἐκπυροῦσθαι κατά τινας περιόδους ἐναλλάξ τὸν σύμπαντα αιώνα. If there be any tratta in the fanciful speculations of Buffon,

with respect to the encroachments of the
frigid upon the temperate zones, this last
supposition of Heraclitus, "the Dark-
ling," as they called him, would be ne-
cessary, in order to restore the equili-
brium of temperature-But I alluded to
some notes on Athenæus, by "Græculus."
At present I have only the 20th number
at hand. Why not warrawao? and why
apozónou, which word does not exist,
when Casaubon has given the true reading
angaxónou? Why, moreover, does he call
the play of Pherecrates Corianne, which
is a mere error of Dalecampius, and not,
as it is in the text, Corianno? At some
future opportunity I shall resume my stric-
tures on these notes; recommending, in
the mean time, the author of them, when
he proposes emendations, carefully to
assign them to their original owners-
μηδ' ἀλλότριον ἀμὰν θέρος.
May 14, 1809.

B. J. C.

To the Editor of the Monthly Magazine.

SIR,

Unappropriate quotations or strained ana. logy, may shew reading, but they do not shew taste. That just and happy allusion which knows by a word how to awaken a corresponding image, or to excite in the hearer the idea which fills the mind of the speaker, shews less pedantry and more taste, than bare citations; and a mind imbued with elegant knowledge will inevitably betray the opulence of its resources, even on topics which do not relate to science or literature. Well-informed persons will easily be discovered to have read the best books, though they are not always detailing catalogues of authors."Mrs. More's Strictures on Female Education. Chapter-Conversation.

use a common phrase) runs away with
her, sprinkles her letters with poetry in
no sparing manner; and as that lady
would certainly say, were she writing on
this subject,

The memory's soft traces fade away."
"Where beams of warm imagination play,

So Mrs. Grant sometimes quotes in-
correctly, and sometimes assigns to one
author what belongs to another: it is to
be hoped these errors will be corrected in
the next edition, given to the public, of
the interesting and entertaining Letters

from the Mountains.

Miss Hamilton, to whom the present age is so much indebted, is not so faulty in this respect as her sister writers; but, in the next edition of her valuable Letters on Education, we may, perhaps, see a mistake corrected, which has long of fended the eye and ear of every reader of Shakespeare: in telling us, that some children have learning thrust upon them. Miss H. gives to the merry Sir John Faistaff the observations on greatness, made by the fantastic and melancholy Malvolio.

But what shall we say, when we find Celebs, the justly celebrated Calebs, the law-giver transgressing her own laws? though not the avowed production of Mrs. More, is yet universally supposed to proceed from her pen; indeed, the style and sentiments speak it hers in every page: after having remarked, that I think the book replete with good sense and judgment, and that it contains many very excellent observations on life and manners, it may appear trifling to notice the style; but as Mrs. More observes in a former production," there is no piety and in bad taste," so, detracting

HESE are certainly very excellent

well deserving the attention of the female writers of the present day, (i mean those who dedicate their talents to the improvement of the rising generation), whose propensity to quotation I have long remarked, and have endeavoured, in vain, to find a reason for it. One cannot suspect such well-regulated minds of harbouring so weak a feeling as vanity; a desire to make a display of their reading, therefore, cannot be the motive. Is it then their extreme modesty and diffidence which will not permit them to advance any opinion, or lay down any position unsupported by authority? though it is to be remembered, poetical authority is not always infallible. Letters are but one degree above conversation; yet the lively Mrs. Grant, whose pen (to

the merits of the sentiments, I may ob-
serve, that they are sometimes delivered
in such lofty pedantic language, as to be
almost unintelligible. This book consists
early altogether of conversations, and
according to her own rule, (vide quotation
at the beginning), Mrs. M. has given
almost all her characters a bad taste, for
almost all are extremely fond of making
quotations and comparisons, which, not
unfrequently, are unappropriate quo-
tations and strained analogy." Sir John
Belfield, we are told, has a fine taste in
poetry; yet, though he resides almost
constantly in town, he has not learned
(according to the happy expressions in
the just and admirable encomium on
London, page 22), that "quickness of
allusion, which brings the idea before you

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without detail or quotation." The fol-
Jowing citations are surely very awkward-
ly introduced:-Sir J. Belfield, speaking
of Mrs. Fentham's laughter, says,
"The
damsels still remain, like Shakespeare's
plaintive maid, * in single blessedness;'
they do not, however, like her, spend
gloomy nights chanting cold hymns to
the pale lifeless moon,' but in singing
sprightlier roundelays to livelier audi-
tors." Here we are first to be told in
lofty verse what they do not do, before
we hear in humble prose what they ac-
tually do. In the play from which this
forced allusion and quotation is made,
Ilermia asks the Duke what is to befal
her, if she refuse to wed Demetrius? The
Duke tells her either to die, or to live in
a cloister "chanting, &c." but hints, that
more earthly happiness is to be found in
marriage than in "single blessedness;"
here we have no plaintive maid “chant-
ing faint hymns to the cold fruitless
moon" (which, by the byc, is as Shake-
I wish these ladies,
speare wrote it.
when they quote, would turn to their
Shakespeares and Popes, and not give
their lines from memory, which is a
very treacherous faculty). Again, Sir
John is quite poetical in his relation of
what he supposes occurred in his young
friend's visit at Mrs. Fentham's; but he
keeps within bounds, till he commits the
absurdity of making Milton tell us what
Calebs did not do, before he tells us
himself what he did do!

Cœlebs, as soon as he enters Stanley Grove, grows poetical; but as he almost as soon becomes a lover, we must allow him as a privilege belonging to that character, the full range of poetry; though it would surely be a greater compliment to the lady, were this verse original and not borrowed.

For the Monthly Magazine.

ACCOUNT of THOMAS MAJOR'S CONFINEMENT in the CASTLE of the BASTILLE, in the YEAR 1746, interspersed with several ANECDOTES of POPISH BIGOTRY, in a LETTER to THOMAS HOLLIS, ESQ. of LINCOLN'S INN, F.R.S. and S.A.S. 1772, REVISED and PUBLISHED by his GRANDSON, THOMAS WILSON.

(Concluded from page 435.)

THE morning after my confinement,

the governorsent to know if I would acquaint my friends with my imprisonment, that they might endeavour to get my release. This I took as a great civility, and I returned him my thanks, and said I should take it as a particular favour. Accordingly pens, ink, paper and wafers, were sent me. I wrote to Monsieur D'Anville, (the King's geographer) who knew that my coming to France with his brother, Monsieur Gravelot, of whom I had been a pupil, was purely for my improvement in the arts. I desired that he would apply to the Duke of Orleans (the king's uncle) for whom I had engraved

some copper-plates; and entreat his in-
terest for my release, that I might pursue
my studies. This letter, as wafers were
sent, I inconsiderately closed, not then
knowing the nice punctilios of the French,
and how tenacious they are of ceremoni-
ous trifles. This was an incivility to the
governor; it should have been sent open
for his inspection, for which reason he ne
ver forwarded it, Perhaps, it was only
a method used to come at the connec-
tions of the prisoner, and by that means to
obtain light into any affair they may wish
to be acquainted with. But of this I am
not certain, it is only a surimise, and I
should be sorry to cast any reflection
upon this gentleman, who behaved so
I have since been in-
genteely to me.
formed, that no prisoner is allowed to
write from hence, but by a particular or-
der, first obtained for that purpose, from
the minister of state; and this confirms
my conjecture, that the above was an ar
tifice only. My Inndlord earnestly en-
treated the exempt, to acquaint him

Is not the following line from Pope very awkwardly forced in (I may say) by that indefatigable quoter, Sir J. Belfield? Mr. Tyrrell proposes making a general bonfire of the poets: after a reply from Mr. Stanley, Sir John exclains," And if fuel fails, we might not only rob Belinda's altar of her Twelve tomes of French romances, neatly where he was going to take me, and to

gilt,'

but, &c."

I do not like the task of censuring, therefore shall here close my remarks, with recommending to the female writers who adorn the present age, to preserve a plain and simple style, free from forced allusion and frequent quotation. SENIX. Your's, &c.

tell of what I had been accused, saying, he had no reason to suspect me of harm. He was deaf to his entreaties; and, with the usual brutality annexed to his profession, absolutely refused to give him an an

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swer, further, than he seized me by a Lettre de Caches, which was fully sufficient, and his authority for what he was doing. My old landlady, too, was very desirous of knowing whither they had taken me. She went early the next morning to enquire of the people near the Bastille, whether they had heard of any prisoner having arrived that day. They asked, If any belonging to her had been taken up. She said, young Englishman, who boarded with them. They answered, For God's sake do not say you know him, but get away as fast as you can, lest you bring yourself into trouble. During my stay at Paris, I frequently took a walk to view my old habitation, the place of my captivity. When I stopt to look attentively at the prison, and make observations, if the centinel perceived me, he would come up to me, and say, Monsieur, passez votre chemin-Sir, go about your business. This severity may be a proper check upon many violent, ill-designing people; but at the same time, it must be a shocking weight upon the minds of others, who probably may have innocent relations or friends confined there.

Possibly I might have remained a pri soner for years, languishing out the remainder of my days in close confinement and hopeless captivity, (perhaps, "with a rusty nail, scratching on a stick another day of misery, to add to the heap,") as perpetual imprisonment has sometimes been deemed a favour, had not my landlord received a friendly hint from the commissaire, when we left my lodgings, who kindly whispered in his ear-Bastille. That gentleman behaved nobly as a man and as a citizen of the world, and I should certainly be wanting in gratitude, if I did not pay him this acknowledgement. It was fortunate for me, that I was not taken up in the street; had this been the case, none of my friends could have known what was become of me, as they never would have thought, a person like me, who canie to France purely for study, could possibly be an object for the minister's attention, and commitment to the Bastille, on affairs of state; but would have naturally concluded, that by some accident I had been privately murdered. Had a change of ministry then been made, I might have remained a prisoner the rest of my days; it being castomary for the succeeding minister, never to make enquiries after the prisoners, taking it for granted, that their crimes occasioned their confinement; and as a caution to others, not to meddle with political affairs; consequently they remain

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immured there, during their lives, unless released by application from their friends, which cannot always be done, it being unknown what persons are there.

It is not improbable, that many who have suddenly disappeared at Paris, and who have never been heard of since, have unluckily been taken up in the street, at a distance from their friends and acquaiutance. The following anecdote was told me, by Dr. Longfield, who, when he resided at Paris, had contracted an intimacy with several learned gentlemen of differ ent nations; they used to meet at a coffeehouse for the sake of conversation and amusement. One night when five or six of them were at supper, an exempt entered, and took away a Spanish gentleman, who was never heard of more.

Another extraordinary circumstance was, of a young surgeon, who went to Paris to study his profession, having strong recommendations to a French gentleman living near the rue St. Antoine. Immediately on his arrival, he went with his letter; but not finding him at home, left it, intending to call again, and dismissed his guide. In the mean time, taking a walk, be happened to go by the Bastille, and, mistaking the entrance for a thoroughfare, by chance he passed the first centinel, whose back was towards him. However, he was stopped by the second, and not speaking French, he was taken before the governor; the account he gave of himself, was not sufficient for his release, and there he remained. Some time elapsed, and the Frenchman wondered that his English visitor did not appear; his friends in England were as much surprised, they had no tidings of his arrival. At length, they wrote to Paris, to enquire for him; they received for answer, that he cer tainly had been there, by the delivery of his letter, but that they had not seen him at all. In short, he was given over. Three years had passed, when an officer, who had formerly been stationed on duty at the Bastille, suppeil in company at this gentleman's. This strange circumstance happened to be mentioned; the officer recollecting the time, said that when he was stationed there, a foreigner was taken un, and, not giving a satisfactory account of himself, was secured. Possibly it might be the same; but desired his name might not be mentioned, as giving intelli gence. The French gentleman, through bis friends, immediately made application to the minister; and finding the object of their search in the Bastille, by their interest he was released, after three years imprisonment.

imprisonment. To return to myself. Monsieur Le Bas, (under whom I was studying,) waited on the governor at his house in the city, desiring that I might be permitted to engrave for him in my apartment, and he would furnish me with materials. The governor, upon enquiry, found the implements to be such, as, by the duty of his office, he could by no means entrust me with, lest I might be tempted to do myself an injury. It is not unlikely, the account the governor had received of me by the exempt, from my landlord, being strengthened by the recommendations, and good opinion of Mousieur Le Bas, night contribute greatly to the lenient manner in which I was treated.

The noise of bolts, locks, keys, and bars, are terrible beyond description; I could hear the prison-doors unlock, and lock, a great while before they came to me, and a long time after; this made me conclude there were several others in my condition. One day, I asked the keeper, if there were many of my countrymen fellow-inhabitants with me; it was very natural for me to enquire. He stopped me short, by desiring me not to ask him any questions; and said, he was not suffered to talk with the prisoners. From that time, I uever held any conversation with him, but merely for necessaries. However, I found him to be a very keen artful fellow; for one day he accosted me in this manner; pray Sir! how is your money made in England; is it like ours? I immediately perceived what he ained at. Money to me then was, like the diamond to the cock in the fable, of no kind of value. I gave a six livre piece (5s. 3d.) and some small pieces besides, telling him it was all the money I had, and as he behaved civilly, he was welcome to it. He took it, and was very thankful and obliging.

set a prisoner free,) for among other reflections, that intruded themselves at times, I had more than once this uneasiness occurred to me, that if I remained long here, I might perhaps be forgotten, and the impossibility of making my wants known, would have made starving an additional distress to imprisonment, and would have rendered my state truly deplorable, and superlatively wretched. As I had occasion for linen, &c. the following billet was sent to my landlord, by order of the

"Monsieur Dengovernor : nis will be so good as to send to Mr. Major, a flannel waistcoat, a night-cap, and shirts, to the Bastille.-To Monsieur Dennis, opposite St. Bennet's Church, St. James's Street, Paris."

In the evening, the keeper used to bring a lighted candle. Being remarkably uneasy and fatigued, having racked my tortured mind to no purpose, closely scrutinizing into every circumstance and transaction, that I could recollect, to find out, if possible, the cause of my being thus shut up; for in uncertainties, the mind is abundantly employed in raising a thousand phantoms, more terrible in idea, than in reality. In this plight, I used to go to bed early, and put out my candle, in hopes that sleep, which brings to a level the prince and the slave, would free me from reflection.

One night, the keeper not coming to me so soon as usual, and being in the dark, I endeavoured to light my candle, which by the following accident I was enabled to do; in the strict search of my room, I had left no corner unexamined, I had found upon the ledge of the chimney-piece, almost buried in dust, two or three matches, a steel, and a flint, but no tinder-box; upon which I struck a light into the suuffers, and accomplished my wish. When the keeper canie, opening the door, and seeing ine reading by a candle, his astonishment was very great; he started, and gave a sudden spring backwards, believing me the devil. He could not conceive how it was possible for me to obtain a light, as he knew there was no tinder-box in the room. I soon undeceived him, by shewing him the operation; otherwise he might (knowing me to be au heretic,) have raised some strange reports of witchcraft, by no means to my advantage, among a Ligoted and superstitious people.

This was a most insinuating and genteel way of making me sensible of recompensing him for his trouble. It is true, he did not ask me for money, not being permitted to take any from the prisoners; and had this circumstance been known, he would certainly have been discharged from his place, and perhaps punished. The Freuch are very nice in these affairs, receiving no money in royal prisons, or palaces, which redounds much to their honour. The trifle I gave, was entirely at my option, and therefore cannot be deemed any other than as a gift. I did not think this money ill bestowed; (not that I thought a composition here could dying by hunger is the greatest.

When I had been here a few days, the

For of all the terrors of nature, that of

surgeon,

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