the name of one Bromfeild, a penfioner, came to him, to challenge him to meet Bromfeild in the feild. "Have you no other errand (quoth Sir Richard) ?" "No," fays Green. Then Sr Richard drew his dagger, and broke Greens pate, telling him to carry that as his anfwer; he fcorning to meet fuch a knave as Bromfeild. This treatment of Green highly encreased the anger of the earl. Bromfeild, Green, and others of his retayners, plotted mifchief to the perfon of Sir Richard; but he ftood upon his guard, keeping always 24 ftout men, with fwords, bucklers, and daggers, to defend him from their attempts. They hired boats and wherries upon the Thames, with a defign to drown Sir Richard, as he fhod go from Westminster to London; but he, being privately informed thereof, borrowed the lord mayor of Londons barge, furnished it with men, mufquetts, billets, drums, and trumpets, and rowed along the Thames, fhot the bridge, and went down to Greenwich, where the queen kept her court at that time; and at the landing place, over against the pallace, he caufed his companie to difcharge their mufquets, to beat their drums, and found their trumpets. The Earl of Leycefter hearing thereof, re paired to the queen, and informed her that Sir Richard Bulkeley, more like a rebel than a fubject, had come with barges, men, mufquetts, drums, and trumpetts; and had fhot feveral pieces over against her majeftys palace, to the great terror of her court; a matter not to be fuffered. The queen fent for Sir Richard, and, after hearing his apology for himself, made the earl freinds with him. Within a while after, the earl sent for S Richard to his chamber; who coming thither, the earl began to expoftulate with him on feveral wrongs and abuses he pretended to have received at his hands ; and that he had loft 10,000l. by his oppofition. But the difcourfe ended in milder terms, and Sir Richard was bidden to dinner; but did eat or drink nothing, fave of what he faw the earl taft, remembring Sir Nics Throgmorton, who was faid to have received a fig at his table. But the Earl of Lycefter dying in Oct 1588, Sir Richard Bul keley, and his country, enjoyed peace and quietnefs from his tyrannical oppreffions, his devices and wicked practifes: and Sir Richard furvived to the 28 June 1621, when he dyed, aged 88. He had attended the coronation of ye queens Mary and Elizabeth, and of James the ft. His cloak, at this last coronation, coft him 500l. Account of two ancient Oil-Mills Tranflated from the Notizie Enciclopediche of Milan, Number XXXVII. for the Year 1782. From the London Magazine for December 1783. TH HE fame of the two oilmills difcovered, one in the ancient Pompeja, the other in the excavations of Stabia, in the kingdom of Naples, has been rapidly fpread. In the public papers of Venice and Florence of last year, they were mentioned with high encomiums; but we are now informed, by a judicious obferver, that the defcription given by former delineators is defective, and that the following may be depended on, as true and genuine. We, therefore, publifh it with pleasure, as it treats of a machine which does honour to the genius of the ancients, and to the fimplicity of their inventions, and which could not have fallen from its rank as a valuable piece of mechanism, but with the lofs of all their other ingenious discoveries, after the lamentable invafion of the barbarians. This machine is compofed of two fpheres, one hollow, the other folid; the convexity of the one being fitted to the concavity of the other; with this difference, that of the one, only half is employed, cut in a block of stone, in form of a large mortar, of the other, only two fegments of the fame materials. To have a clearer idea, the former may be compared to the horizon in an armillary fphere, the two latter to the two portions of the fame fphere cut off vertically by the polar circles. The external diameter of the concave hemifphere, or mortar, is about half a Neapolitan ell, the brim is fix inches thick, confequently the internal diameter is twelve inches lefs than the external. We conceive, however, that these proportions may be varied, according to the hardness of the ftone. The two of which we fpeak, are of the lava of Vefuvius, which is both friable and porous in no inconfiderable degree. From the bottom of the concave hemifphere rifes a cylinder, or fmall column, a palm and fix inches in circumference, and nearly two inches higher than the periphery or brim of the mortar. On the top of the cylinder an iron pivot is fixed with lead, on which turns a wooden axle, ftrengthened by an iron rod running through it from end to end. To the extremities of this axle the two fegments ought to be fixed, nearly in the fame manner in which we fix the two fmall wheels of our chariots. This is fufficiently evident from one extremity, which may ftill be feen unconfumed by the fire of the eruption in the mill of Pompeja. It exhibits no appearance of having been lengthened, but is cut fhort off where the fmall part of the axle ought to be. Hence, also, we may conjecture, that a handle or pole, drawn by an animal, or worked by a man, muft have been contrived to give motion to the fegments. And this feems to have been divided in two, like a fork, and made faft with two braces to the two oppofite ends of the axle. The advantages of this ancient mill over the modern are many. The perfect coincidence of the concave and convex furfaces of the two fpheres prefents an infinitely greater number of points for the trituration of the olives, than the periphery of the millftone, or vertical wheel, touching a plane, as in the modern. The double motion too of rotation round the axis, and circumvolution round the cylinder, like that of the planets, multiplies every inftant the points of attrition, and proportionally fhortens the time of the grinding. In fact, it appears from from the trial made before his majetty, by the Marquis Grimaldi, that a quantity of olives, which the modern mill employs half an hour, is ground in the ancient in a minute and an half. The ancient, moreover, in the first grinding, crushes only the pulp, and, confequently, produces the most perfect virgin oil for the ufe of the table, which, from the perfection to which the fun brings the fruit in this climate, does not yield in the leaft to the most delicate butter of the north, and after fome years, becomes balfam, as experience has long fhewn in Calabria, and other fouthern parts of Naples. After the olives, thus mashed, have been fqueezed in the prefs, or trappeto, for fo it is called by the ancient Greek name, in thefe provinces, they are again poured into the mill, and the axle being lowered by removing a fmall pin, the ftones are also triturated. But as the heterogeneous juice of them incorporates with the remaining oil, it produces a mixture of inferior quality, which would be fit only for making foap or manufacturing cloth. cloth. The coarfe palates, however, of labourers, do not difdain to use it in dreffing their victuals. MISCEL MISCELLANEOUS ESSAYS. Difference between Memory and OME philofophers refer to memory all our livelier thoughts, and our fainter ones to imagination: and fo will have it, that the former faculty is diftinguished from the latter by its fuperior vivacity. We believe, fay they, in memory; we believe not in imagination: now we never believe any thing, but what we diftinctly comprehend; and that, of which our comprehenfion is indiftinct, we difbelieve. But this is altogether falfe. The fuggeftions of imagination are often fo lively, in dreaming, and in fome intellectual disorders, as to be mistaken for real things; and therefore cannot be faid to be effentially fainter than the informations of memory. We may be confcious too of remembering that whereof we have but a faint impreffion. I remember to have read books, of which I cannot now give any account; and to have feen perfons, whofe features and visible appearance I have totally forgotten. Nor is it true, that we believe, or disbelieve, according to the vivacity, or the faintnefs, of our ideas. No man will fay, that he has a diftinct idea of eternity; and yet, every rational being muft believe, that one eternity is past, and another to come. I have a livelier idea of Parfon Adams, than of the impoftor Mahomet; and yet I believe the former to be an imaginary character, and the latter to have been a real man. I read, not long ago, Vertot's Revolutions of Sweden, and the Adventures of Tom Jones: I believe the history, and I difbelieve the novel; and yet, of the novel I have a more lively remembrance, than of the hiftory.* Memory and imagination, therefore, are not to be diftinguished, according to the liveliness or faintnefs of the ideas fuggefted by the one, or by the other. The former may be faint, while the latter is lively: nay, a great poet has obferved, that, Where beams of warm Imagination play, * See an Effay on Truth, Part I. Chap. ii. Sect. 4. hold hold true.-Befides, belief may be faid to imply disbelief. If I believe the existence of Julius Cefar, I difbelieve his non-existence. If I admit the history of that commander to be true, I reject every fufpicion of its being falfe. And yet, of Julius Cefar, and his actions, my ideas are equally clear, whether I believe or difbelieve. The faculties in queftion I would therefore diftinguish in the following manner. pened: I can imagine a series of adventures, which never did, or which never can, happen. He who writes the hiftory of his own life, or who compiles a narrative from the books he has read, is guided by the informations of memory: he who composes a romance, puts thofe things in writing, which are fuggefted by his imagination. But A friend defcribes an adventure, in which he fays that he and I were engaged twenty years ago, and inI remember to have seen a lion; forms me of what I faid and did and I can imagine an elephant, on the occafion. I tell him, that "or a centaur, which I have ne- I can diftinctly imagine every "ver feen:"-he, who pronoun- thing he relates, but that I reces these words with underftand- member nothing of it. He mening, knows the difference between tions a circumftance, which on a the two faculties, though perhaps fudden brings the whole to my mehe may not be able to explain it. mory. You are right, I then fay; When we remember, we have al- for now I remember it perfectly ways a view to real exiftence, and well. At first, I could only imato our past experience; it occurs gine the facts he spoke of: but, to our minds, in regard to this though I might believe his word, thing which we now remember, I could not recal any experience of that we formerly heard it, or per- mine, by which, in this particular ceived it, or thought of it +; "I cafe, it might be verified. remember to have feen a lion :" now, my memory informs me, -When we imagine, we contem- that the adventure was real, and plate a certain thought, or idea, that I was an agent in it, and fimply as it is in itfelf, or as we an eye-witnefs. Hence it appears, conceive it to be, without referring that in fome cafes imagination may it to past experience, or to real ex- become remembrance. And it iftence; "I can imagine fuch a may be further obferved, that refigure as that of the elephant, membrance will fometimes decay, though I have never feen one; till it be nothing more than ima"or a centaur, with the head and gination as when we retain the "fhoulders of a man joined to appearance of an object, without the body of a horfe, though I being able to affirm with certainty, know that there is no fuch ani- where we perceived, or whether "mal on earth." I remember we ever perceived it: a state of what has actually happened, and mind, which one is confcious of, what, in confequence of my re- when one fays, "I either faw fuch membering, I believe to have hap- a thing, or I dreamed of it." 66 66 † Αει γαρ ὅταν ἐνεργῇ κατὰ τὸ μνημονεύειν, ἔτως ἐν τῇ ψυχῇ λέγει, ὅτι πρότερον τέτο ήκουσεν, ἢ ᾔσθετο, ἢ ἐνόησεν. Ariftot. de Memoria et Reminifcentia, cap. 1. of |