Strangers of distinction made a point of calling on the philosopher of Ferney, who for some years received their visits very willingly, giving them fetes and plays; but he became tired of this, and at last would only see those who could amuse him while he amused them.  A quaker from Philadelphia, called Claude Gay, travelling in Europe, stayed some time at Geneva; he was known as the author of some Theological works, and liked for his good sense, moderation, and simplicity.  Voltaire heard of him, his curiosity was excited, and he desired to see him.  The quaker felt great reluctance, but suffered himself at last to be carried to Ferney, Voltaire having promised before hand to his friends that he would say nothing that could give him offence.  At first he was delighted with the tall, straight, handsome quaker, his broad-brimmed hat, and plain drab suit of clothes; the mild and serene expression of his countenance; and the dinner promised to go off very well; yet he soon took notice of the great sobriety of his guest, and made jokes, to which he received grave and modest answers.  The patriarchs, and the first inhabitants of the earth were next alluded to; by and by he began to sneer at the historical proofs of Revelation; but Claude was not to be driven away from his ground, and while examining these proofs, and arguing upon them rationally, he overlooked the light attacks of his adversary, when not to the point, appeared insensible to his sarcasms and wit, and remained always cool and serious.  Voltaire’s vivacity at last turned to downright anger; his eyes flashed fire whenever they met the benign and placid countenance of the quaker, and the dispute went so far at last, that the latter, getting up, said, “Friend Voltaire! perhaps thou mayst come to understand these matters rightly; in the meantime, finding I can do thee no good, I leave thee, and so fare thee well!” So saying he went away on foot, notwithstanding all entreaties, back again to Geneva, leaving the whole company in consternation.  Voltaire immediately retired to his own room.  M. Huber,[8] who was present at this scene, made a drawing of the two actors.

PHILO.

* * * * *

+THE GATHERER.+

A snapper up of unconsidered trifles. 
SHAKSPEARE.

SIR W. JONES AND MR. DAY.

One day, upon removing some books at the chambers of Sir William Jones, a large spider dropped upon the floor, upon which Sir William, with some warmth, said, “Kill that spider, Day, kill that spider!” “No,” said Mr. Day, with that coolness for which he was so conspicuous, “I will not kill that spider, Jones; I do not know that I have a right to kill that spider!  Suppose when you are going in your coach to Westminster Hall, a superior being, who, perhaps may have as much power over you as you have over this insect, should say to his companion, ’Kill that lawyer! kill that lawyer!’ how should you like that, Jones? and I am sure, to most people, a lawyer is a more noxious animal than a spider.”