indeed, soap is that which of all others best merits the name of restrainer of calorick, as I shall show on another occasion.

From these experiments I proceeded to that with the boiling oil, putting at first a very small drop considerably heated on the tongue, and afterwards increasing the dose and the temperature. The effect corresponded precisely to my expectation. The oil put on the tongue thus prepared made a hissing noise, similar to that made by red hot iron when brought in contact with a humid body. After the hissing the oil ceased to-be hot, and was easily swallowed, perhaps in a state scarcely tepid. Thus furnished with facts, I now be lieved myself in a state to give the following explanation of the phenomena which I had seen executed by Senor Lionetto.

I. The hair over which he passed the plate of red hot iron had been first bathed in a solution of alum or in sulphurous acid, substances with which it was still wet, even at the moment when touched with the iron. Hence the origin of the vapour which arises from his hair in this experi

ment.

II. The plate of red hot iron with which he rubbed his leg and arm, produced no no alteration, because those parts were prepared with the substances of which I have spoken.

III. The same reason will explain the phenomenon of the stroke which he gave the red hot iron with his foot, although the contact of the iron in this experiment was longer: but it is not difficult to comprehend how the soal of the foot may be conveniently prepared for this purpose by the above or similar substances, it being in its nature the most callous and least sensible part of the body. The contact, however, of his foot with the plate of red hot iron was certainly not of very long duration; on the contrary, it clearly appeared in this experiment, more than in any other, that his incombustibility did not surpass a certain limit, beyond

which he might be burned, and like others was highly combustible.

IV. With regard to the boiling oil; this phenomenon, as being the most striking in appearance, merits a more minute examination. To understand well such a fact, it is necessary to know the following particulars. Senor Lionetto took the inflamed oil from the fire, and, to give the publick a proof of its high temperature, immersed in it a certain portion of lead, which melted, thereby demonstrating to what degree it was heated. To me it appears that such an artifice should contribute to cool the oil. This is clearly manifested by the known laws of calorick, the greater part of which is employed in the fusion of the lead. I was better convinced of this truth in repeating the same experiment with a thermometer in my hand, which after the fusion of the lead fell most sensibly. Of all the oil thus reduced to this temperature, he took barely a quarter of a spoonful; and this quantity he dexterously made to fall on his tongue only, which was perhaps prepared in such a manner that it cooled in an instant the oil, which was then swallowed scarcely tepid. The experimenter certainly never drank at one draught alone the dose of oil which he swallowed at several times, nor ever ventured to take in his mouth a whole spoonful of boiling oil.

V. The experiment with liquid lead, of which, with the extremity of his fingers, he put a very small portion not in his mouth, but on his tongue requires no other explanation than the preceding.

VI. The red hot iron also which he passed repeatedly over the back of his tongue produced no alteration on it, as he had, perhaps, clothed it with the plaster of which I have already spoken.

VII. Washing himself with nitrick acid, exposing his face to the vapours which arose from sulphurick or nitrick acids, thrown on the fire, are experiments equivalent to those with sulphurous and nitrous acid;

and also putting his face exposed for a time to the flame of blazing oil, are phenomena which do not merit any particular examination, and which certainly present nothing different from the others. The force of habit, the callousness which the skin, after a time, acquires by the continued exercise of such experiments, and the preceding preparations of the exteriour surface of the body, are reasons sufficient to explain easily all the phenomena of this kind. But, how is it possible that the transparent and opaque cornea of the eyes and the organs of respiration are not affected by the powerful action of acid vapours? It would be madness to believe that he held, or could hold, his eyes open when his face was exposed to the contact of such vapours; and if he respired at the same time he must inevitably be come a victim of such temerity.

In the experiment with a piece of iron almost red hot between his teeth, and which he held there for a short time, it was sufficient to observe at that moment the visage of the experimenter, to see the impression of uneasiness and even acute pain delineated. In this experiment, without doubt, more than in any other, he suffered; and hence the cause why Senor Lionetto seldom repeated it. His teeth, indeed, are blackened and spoiled to the last degree.

It will not now be improper to show, practically, what method should be adopted by any person wishing to become, in this sense, incombustible. First of all, it is necessary to be convinced, from the beginning, that by frequent frictions and practice on the skin, any one may become as able, as Senor Lionetto is at present, to bear the action of fire, and as he was the first time he attempted similar experiments. In the second place it is necessary, that whoever undertakes to practise such operations on his skin, should be inforined that he will not attain a certain perfection without at the same time changing VOL. III.

S.

his nature, by becoming hardier and consequently less sensible.

I would here premise, that whoever desires to make similar experiments, should commence by rubbing themselves with dilute sulphurous acid, or with the saturated solution of alum, agitated or boiled as above. The more numerous the frictions the more insensible the skin will become, and also the more proper to sustain the action of fire; and, as I have before observed, the alum made to boil or ferment into a spongy form acquires a greater force, and is therefore preferable to the simple solution of alum. With this usage alone, after rubbing very often the part over which it is designed to pass the red hot iron, it will become capable of bearing its action. But to attain this object, by these means, a certain space of time is necessary. If any one wishes to become capable of sustaining the action of fire, he must rub very often with one or other of the above liquids, and also with a piece of hard soap slightly moistened, on the same part, in order that it may acquire a slight incrustation. The kind of plaster, of which I have before spoken, formed by the trituration of soap in a mortar with a solution of alum, will be the most proper means of rendering the part anointed insensible to the action of fire. A plate of red hot iron may then be passed over it without occasioning any disagreeable sensation. This mode, although sufficient for the object desired, is easier discovered by others than that of touching the part rubbed with soap.

With regard to the tongue, in order that it may be capable of bear ing the passage of a perfectly red hot iron, it is sufficient to bathe it first with the above solution of alum, and afterwards covering it with a thin stratum of sugar in fine powder, and also rubbing it often with a piece of hard soap. If the tongue, after being bathed in the solution of alum, is rubbed with a piece of

to theatre, and studied the best dramatick writers. From an admirer he became a critick. Idolizing Shakspeare, he often lamented that his dramas had suffered in their structure, from the ignorance or carelessness of the first editors. This determined him to attempt a transposition of the scenes, in a few places, from the order in which they have been handed down by successive editions. "This," he continues in the modest preface to his edition of Lear," will doubtless be thought by many a hardy innovation; but if it be considered in what a disorderly and neglected state this author's pieces are reported to have been left by him, and how little certainty there is that the scenes have hitherto preserved their original arrangement, the presumption with which this attempt is chargeable will admit of much extenuation; and it were, at least, to be wished that no privilege of alteration more injurious to Shakspeare, had ever been assumed by any of his editors." What he attempted, he has accomplished with great ingenuity and much taste in his editions of the following plays:

Lear and Cymbeline, Dublin, 1793, and the Merchant of Venice, Dublin, 1805. To each play he has assigned a separate volume, containing not only notes and illustrations of various commentators, with remarks by the editor, but the several critical and historical essays that have appeared at different times, respecting each piece. To Cymbeline he has added a new translation of the ninth story of Second Day of the Decamerone, and an original air, which accompanies the words of the elegy on Fidele's death, composed on purpose for his publication, by Sig. Giordani. These editions will yet be considered as a valuable accession to the critical labours of the commentators of our immortal bard. According as they are better known, they will rise in estimation. The praise bestowed on them by the author of an essay on the revival of the drama in Italy, note 8, p. 270, is only justice to their merit. "As you like it" was prepared for the press upon the same plan, but it sleeps with the editor.

That sad remembrance lives-the image of despair!

Angelick graces! well my mind

Recalls to view your charms combined; Angelick graces, where, oh! where is now That lovely face, that polished brow; Those eyes which, sweetly, mildly beamed Expression's living fire;

And those enchanting looks, which seemed To wake, yet checked, each rude desire And ye, that played, enticing smiles,

On ruby lips, ensnaring

The heart, surprised with dangerous wiles, The fluttering heart its captive state declaring!

Where is the bosom, high with youth, That bosom, bright as dazzling snow, The shrine of virtue and of truth,

Which, feeling all the passions' glow,
Called mild Religion's art to tame,
And temper there, the fiercer flame!
Oh! where, of all that once could warm,
Dear source of sighs! the matchless form,
Health's finest flush, and beauty's ro-
seate bloom?

The shroud encircling, now contains
The little, poor, and sad remains,

That moulder into dust within the darksome tomb!

Say, o'er her cradle what propitious star Its influence shed soon, soon to sink in night?

Like purple clouds around the car
Of evening, for a moment bright.
Never did favouring planet shower,
To bless an infant's natal hour,
Such gifts profuse, and shine with such
delusive light!

What mortal eye could e'er behold
Unmoved, her form of perfect mould?
Her charms, that scorned the aid of art,
Untouched by Love's resistless smart?
Who heard her breath's entrancing tones,
(No voice such living musick owns)
And felt them not, like liquid notes
Of melting harmony, that floats,

When all around is warm and still,
At eve upon the dullcet air,
Their ravished senses thrill!
No fabled strain will tell the world
How o'er her polished shoulders curled
Loose tresses of translucent gold.
Yet not the beauteous Tuscan dame,
Whom Petrarch sung, or Camoens' flame,
E'er owned such radiant hair.

Fallen is she now; Oh! rosy-stifled breath! Oh! beauty gracing an untimely bier!

*

Fallen is she now, like some fair tree, In May's reviving month we see, Amid the orchard-croud elate,

That, while it flings its odours round, With all its purple blossoms crowned, Struggles awhile with sudden fate, Then droops at once in death:

The blasted promise of the faithless year!

Oh! ye fond l'arents, who, beside her bed, With tender anxiousness, and ceaseless

care,

When every joy was flown,

Hung o'er your dearest hopes, your darling child,

-As the meek lilly hung its lovely headImploring heaven to share,

What dread, what horrour wild,

Struck on your hearts when Reason left her throne,*

And phrensy triumphed o'er the angel mild!

No more the heavenly spark returned
Which once, with clearest lustre, burned,
Dark, void, and cheerless, Reason's ray
Vanished, for ever, from the brain away!
A little space remained between,
(While Pity wept the saddening scene)
For cheating Hope to play her part,
And Death delayed his ruthless dart;
Then closed, in lasting sleep, her languid
eyes,

And gave

her spirit, freed, to seek its native skies!

Far from the spot, the hallowed ground
That holds the relicks of the maid,

'Tis mine to pour the plaintive lay, And wake the lyre's funereal sound, Responsive to my sighs;

Moistened no tears of mine the clay
That covers with its grassy mound,
Her once so loved, so dear;
Unseen, alas! by these sad eyes
With mournful rites in earth's cold bosom
laid.-

Yet, faithful still, by Fancy's aid,
Fearful, alone I seem to tread
The mansions of the peaceful dead,

That robed in twillight gloom appear,
A deeper tinge reflection lending;
And there, in unfeigned sorrow bending
O'er the grave where Fanny lies,
The pensive lover, stone-like stands
With drooping head and folded hands,
Muttering his fancies to her hovering
shade!

G. W. CLARKE
BALTIMORE, 8th January, 1810.

Letter from a friend,