In the life of Dr. H. More (1710) there is a letter to a correspondent who had sent him a pious treatise, in which the same expression occurs, and is thus noticed by the doctor: "There is but one passage that I remember, which will afford them (the profane and atheistical rout of the age) a disingenuous satisfaction; which is in p. 489, where you say that _straight lines drawn from the centre run parallel together_. To a candid reader your intended sense can be no other than that they run [Greek: par allêlas], that is, by one another; which they may do, though they do not run all along equidistantly one by another, which is the mathematical sense of the word parallel."--_Gent. Mag._ May, 1782. The good doctor is, I think, the best critic on the subject that has yet appeared, and sufficiently explains Massinger.--GIFFORD. _Bert._ How you ruin What you would seem to build up! I know no Disparity between us: you're an heir, Sprung from a noble family; fair, rich, young, And every way my equal. _Cam._ Sir, excuse me; One aerie with proportion ne'er discloses The eagle and the wren[146]:--tissue and frieze In the same garment, monstrous! But suppose That what 's in you excessive were diminish'd, And my desert supplied; the stronger bar, Religion, stops our entrance: you are, sir, A knight of Malta, by your order bound To a single life; you cannot marry me; And, I assure myself, you are too noble To seek me, though my frailty should consent, In a base path. _Bert._ A dispensation, lady, Will easily absolve me. _Cam._ O take heed, sir! When what is vow'd to heaven is dispensed with, To serve our ends on earth, a curse must follow, And not a blessing. _Bert._ Is there no hope left me? _Cam._ Nor to myself, but is a neighbour to Impossibility. True love should walk On equal feet; in us it does not, sir: But rest assured, excepting this, I shall be Devoted to your service. _Bert._ And this is your Determinate sentence? _Cam._ Not to be revoked. _Bert._ Farewell, then, fairest cruel! all thoughts in me Of women perish. Let the glorious light Of noble war extinguish Love's dim taper. That only lends me light to see my folly: Honour, be thou my ever-living mistress, And fond affection, as thy bond-slave, serve thee! [_Exit._ _Cam._ How soon my sun is set, he being absent, Never to rise again! What a fierce battle Is fought between my passions! _Syl._ I perceive He has his answer: now must I step in To comfort her. [Comes forward.] You have found, I hope, sweet lady, Some difference between a youth of my pitch, And this bugbear Bertoldo. Despair not; I May be in time entreated. _Cam._ Be so now, to leave me.-- Lights for my chamber! O my heart! [_Exeunt._ FOOTNOTES: