Mrs. Baillie, in her “Tour on the Continent,” has also a comment to make on this proposition of Dinocrates and recalls the fact that a somewhat similar idea was advanced to Napoleon I. “It is somewhat singular,” she says, “that Mr. Pope should have thought this mad project practicable, but it appears that there are still persons who dream of such extravagant and fruitless undertakings. Some modern Dinocrates had suggested to Bonaparte to have cut from the mountain of the Simplon an immense colossal figure, as a sort of Genius of the Alps. This was to have been of such enormous size that all the passengers should have passed between its legs and arms in a zigzag direction.” Another ingenious conception is attributed to Dinocrates in respect to the temple of Diana, which he erected in the city of Alexandria for Ptolemy Philadelphus, in memory of the sister-wife of that potentate, Arsinoë. This relationship, by the way, is said to have been the first ever formed, although it became quite common later in the time of the Ptolemies. Arsinoë was much beloved by her husband, who not only called an entire district in Egypt, Arsinoites, after her, but also gave her name to several cities within his realm. Her features are still preserved to us upon coins struck in her honor, and which represent her crowned with a diadem. When Dinocrates received the commission to erect a temple to so highly esteemed and devotedly remembered a queen, he apparently set his ingenuity to work to give birth to a novelty that should not only please the king, but astonish his subjects. It finally matured in a proposition to roof the proposed temple with loadstones, in order that they might attract into the air an iron statue of Arsinoë. As the figure of the queen would thus appear suspended in the air without any apparent mundane reason, the inference could be drawn that it was by the divine will. Some authorities say that the entire inner walls of the temple were to have been lined with loadstones, so that the statue might appear suspended in the very centre of the cell, touching nothing. Fortunately, both Dinocrates and Ptolemy died before the project could be executed, otherwise they might have been witnesses to the miserable failure such a chimerical fancy must have proved if attempted, as any modern electrician will attest.