which the objection equally applies. Let us farther attend to this author's account of these rivers. "The rivers Scamander and Simois," says he, "when they approach, the one to Sigeum, and the other to Rheteum, unite a little before New Ilium, and thence fall into the sea near Sigeum, forming a lake named Stoma," (p. 892.) This description is strictly accurate, when applied to the Mendere and the Thymbrek, but cannot with the least propriety be applied to any other streams in the district. It clearly implies that the Scamander was the river towards Sigeum, and the Simois towards Rheteum. Now, the Thymbrek is the only river that approaches Rheteum at all; and the expression obviously means, that they kept distinct till they approached these towns, which does not hold true of any other rivers there. Considering the hills as the back country, the words (μικρον εμπροσθεν) a little be fore," apply more properly to the space between the city and the sea, than to the ground at the mouth of the Califat. We may remark farther, that the Mendere and the Thymbrek are the only rivers which can consistently be said to form the lake or marsh, (Strabo, p. 890,) and Strabo's expression seems to imply that they fell into the sea immediately after uniting, which accords strictly with the fact.

Now, if this river be the Simois of Strabo, we think it affords a presumption, almost amounting to certainty, that it was the Simois of Homer; for rivers in all parts of the world have preserved their names with a wonderful constancy amidst changes of language and political revolutions; and, since there was a Simois in Strabo's time, it would have been singular had the name been transferred from one river to another in the period when so many strong associations existed to make the river an object of general interest. At all events, it is evident,

Dr Clarke and Chevalier, to accommodate this passage to their views, use the words" flow or turn towards," instead of "approach," and are thus guilty of the absurdity of making two streams, very near each other from the first, turn towards two points, almost our miles asunder, as a preparation for uniting.

The town of Sigeum, according to Chandler, did not stand on the hill of Giaour Keu, but on the slope reaching down towards the Scamander.

that, if the Thymbrek was the Simois of the Greek geographer, this totally destroys the idea of the present name being a traditionary relic descended to us from the time of Homer, which is the sole ground for identifying it with the poet's Thymbra.

In the most essential circumstances this river corresponds sufficiently with the Simois of Homer. It is the largest river in the district, except the Scamander, (Hobhouse, p. 749,) as we should expect to find it. Mr Hob house, who saw it near the marsh in April, describes it as “ a ditch stream;" but Mr Frere, who observed it higher up, terms it “ a clear and rapid stream," (Walpole's Memoirs, p. 562.) Dr Clarke says, it becomes nearly dry in summer, (as the Mendere itself does,) but in winter" it often presents a powerful torrent, carrying all before it," (Vol. III. p. 114.) When Scamander calls to Simois " to drain all his springs, to suminon all his brooks, to swell his waters, and to bear along trunks and stones," that they might jointly overwhelm Achilles, (B. xxi. v.308,) the expression evidently refers to the river in a state of flood, and may, without any violation of consistency, be applied to a mountain stream like the Thyinbrek, though even poetical licence could scarcely sanction the application of such terms to the brook of Califat, which, Mr Hobhouse says, might very easily escape the traveller's observation altogether. The Thymbrek rises in Mount Ida, as the Simois did, (B. xii. v. 19.) Eight rivers were employed to sweep away the remains of the Greek entrenchments, and, whether these entrenchments were at Sigeum or Rheteum, no river was better placed for this service than the Thyinbrek. If it were the same with the Thymbrius, then we should be sure to find the latter in the list. The Thymbrius, however, is not mentioned, but the Simois is. It is farther worthy of observation, that all Homer's details require the confluence of the Scamander and Simois to be close upon the sea, like that of the Mendere and Thymbrek, for

the level banks, or the plain of Scamander, seem to have reached to the very tents of the Greeks, (B. ii. v. 465;) but, had the rivers united some what farther up, and the ground below not been rendered impassable by a marsh, as at this day, we can scarcely doubt that some bodies of an army occupying so wide a space would at times have passed below the junction, and approached Troy across the Simois; yet we find no instance of such

a movement.

These reasons are greatly strengthened when we attend to the only alternative that presents itself, if we reject the conclusion to which they lead. In this case, the brook of Califat must be the Simois. But this brook, besides the insignificance of its size, can scarcely be said to rise in Mount Ida, but in the plain at its foot. It is so situated, that the Greeks, in marching to Troy, ought to have crossed the united trunk of the two streams first, and then have crossed the Simois by itself. The battle in the 6th book between the rivers must have been fought in a stripe of land where two full regiments would scarcely find room for their movements, much less 50,000 men. It is, in fact, obvious, from the inspection of the map, that, most of the battles, upon this hypothesis, should have been fought between the Simois and the Thymbrius, which certainly is not Homer's account of the matter. Against all this weight of evidence in favour of the identity of the Thymbrek and the Simois, there is nothing to allege but the analogy between the name of Thymbrek and Thymbrius; and this analogy, after all, is, perhaps, imaginary, for in Mr Hunt's journal, we find the modern name changed to Gheumbrek, (Walpole's Memoirs, p. 105.) We have even some reason to doubt whether the name of Kamara Sou is not applied to this stream in the upper part of its course. Besides, the influence of the present name is neutralized by that of Simores, given by certain early travellers to a river near Rbeteum, apparently the same as this, but which is no longer heard of, since the Thymbrek appeared. We have shown also that it was the Simois of Strabo. Although, therefore, the name were really Thymbrek, it has not the authority of uninterrupted tradition from the days of Homer, without which it proves nothing.

VOL. VI.

IT has been said, and by high authority, that the public are always anxious to know somewhat of the history and condition of him who presumes to instruct, or endeavours to amuse them. I shall consider this proposition as fairly proven, and, without attempting to demonstrate its truth, or illustrate its justice, I shall proceed to act upon it, by giving a concise account of my uneventful life.

I am the descendant and unworthy representative of one of the most noble Scottish families. My ancestors have always been distinguished by the active share they have taken in public affairs; for which activity they were rewarded, many centuries ago, with an Earl's title, and, in the year 1745, were recompensed by its attainder. Through the interest of powerful friends, our estates were preserved; and, though the family were, in the eyes of the world, degraded to the rank of commoners, they still reckoned themselves amongst the nobility. It was still an established rule, that no one bearing the name of Mshould contract an alliance with any family whose blood was less noble than his own; nay, it was even boasted, that the connections formed after the attainder, both by the principal and inferior branches of the family, were more illustrious than any that had been made for several generations before. Be that as it may, it is certain, that, if the vital stream which flows in our veins was rendered yet more pure by these alliances, the means of obtaining those gross elements that are necessary to preserve its vitality sensibly diminished. This was occasioned by the friendly terms on which we lived with our noble relatives, and the frequent opportunities those relatives

D d

gave us of obliging them with loans, which they were in no haste to repay. When my grandfather succeeded to the estates, they were burdened with debts, of which the interest amounted to the half of the rents drawn from the property. He married the sister of a Marquis, and his income was soon reduced to a few hundreds. For this evil there was but one remedy, which, unpalateable as it was to the pride of the family, they were obliged to take. My father married the heiress of a wealthy merchant; he paid off the debts, and the family gained in comfort what they lost in blood. Yet, such is the nature of humanity, that, while the gain was sometimes forgot ten, the loss was ever remembered, and remembered with deep regret.

To see the fallen coronet once more borne aloft was the darling wish of my father, but his natural indolence prevented him from making any efforts towards its accomplishment. On me, therefore, his only child, rested all his hopes of the future restoration of our honours. From the earliest period to which memory can look back, I remember him taking me upon his knee, and telling me stories of the dignities and favours that had been conferred on the Earls of · To these narratives I listened sometimes with impatience, but more frequently I received them with total inattention. I recollect one day hearing a long his tory about King James, (which of the Jameses, I am ashamed to say, I know not,) who, in hastily mounting a spirited horse, missed the stirrup, and would have fallen, had not our ancestor, Earl Robert, (who was famous for his athletic strength,) caught him, and, gently lifting his Majesty in his arms, placed him upon the saddle. Upon which the King declared, that he was the best stirrup he had ever met with; and from that day forward no one else was allowed to assist the monarch in getting on horseback. "Would not you like to have a similar honour conferred on n you, David?" said my father. "No," answered I, "I would not be footman to any king." My father angrily pushed me from his knee; but in a few moments, regarding me with more complacency, he said, "that sentiment may proceed from excess of ambition."

But, alas! ambition, even in its most moderate degree, formed no part

of my character; and even a father's partiality could not long prevent the disagreeable discovery. Those who are fond of tracing an effect to its remote and hidden cause, will find lit tle sport in attempting to account for this sad anomaly in the family of M, as the plebeian origin of my mother will sufficiently explain the reason of all my wayward propensi ties.

When I was in my twelfth year, the only brother of my father died, and his eldest son, a boy about my own age, came to reside with us. A few days after he became an inmate in our family, whilst my father was, as usual, telling us tales of other times, my cousin John stood looking up in his face with the most delighted attention, and I was seated on the ground, with my back towards them, apparently listening, when in reality I was watching the motions of a terrier dog, and a large black tabby cat, two of my particular favourites. My father (as John afterwards told me) changed his discourse from the past to the future, and declared the means by which he thought it most probable we should obtain liberty to assume once more the envied title of

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"Oh! I hope you may suc ceed," said John, with energy, "although it will only make me an Earl's cousin.' "I knew she would get it at last," exclaimed I, clapping my hands. "She would get it!" said my father in astonishment, "what do you mean, child?" "Oh," said I, still laughing," Snap came into the room a short while since with a dead mouse in his mouth; puss fawned upon him, hissed at him, and did all she could to get it, but in vain. At last she laid herself down in a corner, and pretended to sleep, while Snap went to the fireside, and soon fell asleep in reality. Puss then, watching her opportunity, seized upon the mouse, and there she goes bearing it off in triumph. Poor Snap will be so provoked when he awakes, and finds it gone." John burst into a loud laugh; my father was too much shocked to be able to speak for a few moments. "Degenerate boy," said he at length, "is it possible, that while I have been disclosing plans for your future advancement, you have suffered your attention to be occupied by such ridiculous trifles? My eyes