That this, however, was not the case, is too clearly shewn in various passages of the ancients, to admit of any doubt on the head.

General Melville, whose repeated voyages across the Atlantic had enabled him to unite to the theory of navigation much more practical knowledge than usually falls to the lot of a landman, despairing of be. ing enabled to untie this Gordian knot, by his researches amongst the most enlightened and experienced seamen, at last, on his way home from his government, laying authorities and theories of every kind entirely aside, inquired in himself what were the objects of the an. cients, in the arrangement of their rowers. To this question, the natural answer was celerity and impe. tus in their movements. The next question was, how this celerity was to be obtained; and the answer could only be by introducing the greatest possible quantity of motive power into a given space. placing the rowers not vertically, but in diagonal order, up the perpendicular side of a ship, it was true that they could be placed in considerably less space than when arranged one directly over the head of another. This, however, was not enough: and, it occurred to the general, that, by means of a double obliquity in the arrange ment of the rowers, every possible advantage might be obtained. Ile therefore supposed that the side of the ship, instead of rising vertical. ly from the water, was at the distance of a few feet from the surface, laid outwards, diverging from the perpendicular at an angle of perhaps forty-five degrees. Upon this inclined side, the seats for the Towers were placed, slanting dia.

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gonally upwards: at the same ti that, by the inchnation of t side, they slanted diagonally o wards. The consequences of ti double obliquity were, that a row raised only from fifteen to eighte inches above the rower bela him, instead of four or five ta that distance, as in some oth schemes, would be able to sit row without receiving any istu ruption in his labour from th others adjoining to him, and th even the uppermost oars, in a que quereme, were not of an unna nageable length.

This theory not only remors all the objections to the forme systems, but it explained a mulh tude of passages in history, hitherto inexplicable; and it was discores ed to be perfectly conformable to the representations still remata on ancient coins, and in the pais ings discovered in the subterrane ruins of Herculaneum.

But a volume would be requi to contain a distinct relation of curious and important discovere and inventions, made by Genes M. and of the systematic pro of his mind in such discoveries a inventions. Amongst those are be reckoned, the discovery made, from principles previo laid down, of the Roman camps the vale of Strathmore, in Sce land; of the construction of 1 catapult, ballista, and other ancie warlike machines; of that specis of artillery known by the name carronades, from the great found ry in Scotland, where they we first made, of which the largest are now generally called, from weight of the shot they receive sixty-eight pounders. The gra improvement, however, which

Genera

operations of the mind, he communicated to the friends with whom he was wont to converse, on those subjects, in a printed card, of which the following is a copy:

Mullum in Parco.

A CREED,

Natural, invariabic, and fundamental; ending where most creeds begin, yet in so far introductory to them as their contents may be found to be con. formable to it.

1st. That, by my nature, I now am, and ever have been, while awake, and in a state of sensibility, passively existing, under an incessant succession of conscious sensations or re-sensations, produced by causes internal or external; both these sensations and resensations naturally and necessarily implying my existence; but the latter only so implies my identity.

2d. That also, by my conscious sensations and re-sensations, produced by causes external, is as naturally and necessarily implied the existence of these externals of nature around me; and these two sorts of sensation, internally and externally caused, are the sole and invariable sources of my know. ledge of my own existence, and that of external nature,

3d. That there ever has been, is, and must be, an existence.

4th. That the existence eternal or infinite in duration or time, must be also infinite in extension or space; for any utmost limits to either are not conceivable.

5th. That the eternal and infimite existence must be either nature universal, or an eternal and infinite cause of nature, which did

create, does sustain, and might annihilate nature.

6th. That which ever of the two be the eternal and infinite exist. ence, whether nature or nature's cause, is as unnecessary as impos sible for man by his nature only to know.

7th. That the best state of nature, with the best use of it by man, in as far as naturally pro ductive of his greatest sum of happiness in all stages of his exist. ence, whether in individuality or society, is ever the most essential object of his nature.

8th. That this most essential object is naturally self-evident to, and so enjoyed by, man, while an individual in solitude, or is competently attainable by him in that state, from the best use of nature and experience.

9th. That this fundamental and important truth, although by na. ture in man, it was not only prior to, and independent of, any human laws of revealed religion, but must still be equally so in a supposed state of totally uneducated and perfectly solitary individuality yet in that of society it will admit or require the concurring aids of both law and religion, in as far as they may be useful or necessary for the said most essential object.

10th. That, lastly, the expedi ency or necessity in society for these aids from law and religion, will be precisely in proportion to the deficiency or inefficacy of the best use of right reason or natural religion; and the degree of perfec tion in both laws and religions for mankind, must necessarily and exactly be in the ratio of their con. formity and conduciveness to the most essential object of human na

ture,

are, as stated in the seventh artile of this creed.—London, 1792. The general, after printing and stributing this card, bethought imself that a neater and more sasfactory, though not in reality a tore comprehensive and complete nalysis and arrangement of the huan mind, would be "sensations, -sensations, and co-sensations:" te last called up, whether by senation or re-sensation, by the wellnown principle of the association f ideas. And he was wont to ask is literary friends if they could ention ay idea or process of hinking, that might not be reaced to one or other of these ends. One of these, noted for elf-sufficiency and briskness of canner, said, without hesitation, nd with an air of triumph " Most rtainly I do." "What is it?" . Why, comparison." "I grant ou," replied the general, we ave in comparison, not one idea of sensation or re-sensation only, it we have two."

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Another friend, to whom the general put the same question, said hat neither consciousness of idenlity, nor even of existence, could be traced to sensation merely, or quatenus sensation: i. e. to the first sensation, or a few of the frst sensations. For both identity and existence were abstractions not obtained by mere sensation, quatenus sensation, but by some posterior process. The general listened to this patiently. But he still maintained the justness of his own analysis. Some weeks afterwards, however, he said to the same person, I have been thinking of adding a "fourth limb to my structure," so that the aua.

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lysis will run thus, sensation, resensation, co-sensation, and PROSENSATION:" by which last he seemed to understand what is called in the schools, simple apprehension, without any consideration either of actual existence, or of any relation to other objects. It was not the conversation just noticed, about existence and iden tity, or at least this alone, that drove the general to PRO-SENSA TIONS, but Professor Stewart's Elements of the Philosophy of the Human Mind, illustrating and confirming Dr. Reid's theory.What the doctor calls suggestion, General Melville called pro-sensation; and this he contended was the just appellative-"For," said he, "what does any thing sug gest? certainly something known before; otherwise it could not be suggested. But, if known before, what other could it possibly be than an idea, or notion, if you will? (Some conversation had taken place about a difference between. notion and idea). Answer m that question?"

It ought not to be omitted that General Melville was a completely well-bred gentleman; uniting, with good sense, and a natural benevolence and frankness of disposition, (which are the grand basis of good manners,) a long and great acquaintance with the polite world, and with all ranks of society. He retained as much of the ceremony, or outward demonstrations of respect of the old school, as must appear quite proper in the eye of sound criticism, and no more. Ia the present age, some fashionable people are so far from overwhelming you with attentions in their on houses, that they take little

if any notice of you. They seem to study nothing so much as their Own ease. This indifference is really a step backward into bar. barism. Expressions of kindness and endearment nourish kind and endearing sentiments. Without such overt expressions or recognizances, social sentiments are apt to languish.

General Melville, while in pri. vate life, was the friend of "the widow, of the orphan, and of those who have no helper:" in public he was a ready and a liberal contributor to the support of the most valuable charitable establishments. The Scotch Corporation, or hospital, in London, by its manage ment, as well as by its constitution, perhaps the least susceptible of abuse, of the multitude of similar benevolent institutions, will long remember the services, and long regret the loss of its venerable recruiting general. The patron of unassuming merit, the encourager of ingenuous youth, his stores of knowledge were ever open to the candid inquirer. A genuine and ardent lover of truth, in every pursuit in which mankind can be interested, and from whatever quarter it proceeded, truth was ever by him most cordially received. By the uniform tenor of his conduct, General Melville evinced himself to be, in the strictest sense of the terms, the true friend and lover of his country.

General Melville was a Fellow of the Royal and Antiquarian Societies of London and Edinburgh, by the university of which last city, his alma mater, he was honoured with the degree of Doctor of Laws. He was also an honorary member of the Board of Agriculture, and

an active member of the Society in London for the Encouragement of Arts, Manufactures, and Com. merce. Although he never had a regiment, a home-government, or any other military emolument whatever, since he quitted the West Indies, he was appointed a full general on the 12th of October, 1798; and at his decease was with one exception, the oldest general in the British army.

Dying a bachelor, General M. is succeeded in name and estate by his cousin, John Whyte Melville, of Bennochy, in the county of Fife, esq.

General Melville had nearly completed his eighty-sixth year, having been born at Monimail, in that county, of which parish his father was minister, on the 12th of October, 1723: his mother was daughter of Robert Whyte, of Bennochy, esq. advocate, and a sister of the late celebrated Dr. Robert Whyte (Whytt) his ma jesty's physician in Scotland, and professor of medicine in the Uni versity of Edinburgh.