and Cymbeline, Dub. 1793. During his residence in London, the theatre engaged much of his attention, and his passion for that elegant amusement grew with his years. "He followed the best performers from theatre to theatre, and studied the best dramatic writers. From an admirer he became a critic. Idolizing Shakespeare, 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 Shakespeare, 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, Dub. 1795, and the Merchant of Venice, Dub. 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 Decamerou, 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, bat it sleeps with the editor, to whom we shall now return. His person was tall, well proportioned, and majestic. His countenance beamed benevolence. His manners were soft, easy, and polite. His mind was richly stored with classic lore, and every moral virtue. His conversation was a stream of elegant information, occasionally enriched with just criticism and solid argument. Graced with every accomplishment himself, his family became highly accomplished under his direction. Of the fine arts, music, (which he has so ably defended in a note on the "Merchant of Venice," p. 236, 239,) was his favourite. Accordingly it was particularly cultivated in his family, who seems to inherit not only his accomplishments, but his virtues. To this slight sketch of his charac

ter,

ter, we shall only add, that he closed an useful life at an advanced age, at his beautiful seat of Cronroe, where he had long resided in elegant hospitality, ministering to the comforts of his surrounding tenantry, and exhibiting in his public and private conduct, in his studies and in his amusements, a model worthy the imitation of every country gentleman.

At Philadelphia, on the 9th of February last, aged about 86 years, James Pemberton, esq. of the society called Quakers; by which, no less than by the community at large, he was eminently distinguished for the upright discharge of his religious and civil duties. He was long the colleague of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, in representing that (his native) city, in the general legislature of Pennsylvania, previous to the revolution; and after it, he succeeded the philosopher as president of the society, instituted for promoting the interests of the enslaved Africans; which, with various other benevolent objects, engaged a large proportion of his time, more than half a century. On the 13th, at the interment of his remains, the respect felt for his memory was manifested by a very numerous attendance of his fellow citizens, of all ranks and denominations. His temperament, and regular habits, contributed to preserve, almost to the last, the unimpaired enjoyment of his intellectual faculties, with a capacity for exerting them; and bis closing moments evinced the peaceful retrospect of a well-spent life.-" Mark the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that man is peace."

Sir Charles Corbett, 57 years a Citizen and Livery-man of the Sta

tioners' Company, 78. A melancholy event occurred at his funeral; when his friends were assembled to follow him to his grave, his second son, a young man in the vigour of life, broke a blood-vessel, and fell suddenly a corpse, among the com pany. The funeral of the father was delayed, and they were both interred in one tomb, in the Churchyard of St. Anne's, Westminster. A subscription has been commenced for the family, who have been deprived of their paternal inheritance of 10,000l. per annum, and reduced to such indigence, that the present baronet, although heir to some of the best estates in the kingdom, is in an inferior station in the East India warehouses.

At Woolwich, in his 49th year, Colonel John Harding, of the Royal Artillery. At Copenhagen, under Sir Thomas Blomefield, and in the Spanish campaign, under Sir John Moore, where he had the command of the artillery, he proved himself a soldier, "and a ripe and good one." He stood high in the estimation of two successive Masters of the Ordnance, the Earls of Chatham and Moira

they knew his worth and will lament his loss. To his friends he was deservedly endeared, for of him truly may it be said, as it was long ago of a man of eminence in another profession-" He affirmed, and you believed him; he promised, and you trusted him; you knew him, and you loved him.” He has left a widow, a son (George Judd), who is a captain in the Royal Engineers, and three daughters.

In Great Cumberland-place, the Most Rev. his Grace the Lord Archbishop of Dublin, Primate of Ireland, Earl of Normanton, &c. &e. His Grace's decline was rapid: he

kept

kept his bed but three days previous to his dissolution. As a scholar, a prelate, and a statesman, his Grace stood pre-eminently high. He was in his 73d year, and is succeeded in his titles by his eldest son, Viscount Somerton, now Earl of Normanton.

At Scottlethorpe, Mr. Samuel Clay, who for 30 years was celebrated throughout that neighbourhood as a conjuror, and practised his art with great success. If any thing could excuse the credulity of those whom he deceived, his superior cunning, and the very extraor dinary and impressive figure of the man, might perhaps be pleaded. He was born at Scottlethorpe, and was a short time apprenticed to a baker there; but having had a little education, he disdained that pursuit, and led an idle half-studious -life in his father's cottage, on the Grimsthorpe domain; to which cottage, on the death of his father, he succeeded. By that time the recluse life of the man had occasioned some conversation, and he was regarded with a degree of terror by the children of the neighbouring villages. He stood six feet in height, was remarkably erect and thin, with "eyes severe and coat of formal cut, full of wise saws he was and modern instances;" and his loins were usually girt with a belt, his waistcoat was of goat or dog-skin, and ever at the "witching time o' night" he prowled abroad! In a little while his fame became very general, and silly people from considerable distances resorted to his habitation, to have their difficulties dispelled, and take the benefit of his occult studies: almost innumerable are the instances adduced in which this cunning man

hit upon expedients to relieve and satisfy his ignorant votaries. Being consulted by a man who had lost some traps for catching vermin in the purlieus of Grimsthorpe Parke, the astrologer told him he would, by the second sun-rise, discover the person who had stolen them! He employed the interval in making enquiries; and having suspicion of the offender, he went to a field in which the man was at work, and, accosting him with all the confidence and severity necessary for his purpose, "You stole -'s traps," said he. The appalled offender, smitten with his guilt, and with the impossibility of deceiving his accuser, confessed the fact, and told where he had secreted the stolen articles. "I charge you," concluded the conjuror, "move them not from the spot in which they lie, nor speak of the confession you have made to me, on pain of the most terrible torments my skill is able to inflict.” The man who had sustained the loss, called again at the time appointed, and, by the direction of Sam. Clay, to a particular part of the offender's cottage, recovered his property. Of course the amazing skill of the conjuror was trumpeted in all quarters. A few years ago, however, having, we suppose, misplaced one of his spells, he was reduced to the dire necessity of declaring, by advertisemeut, that HE WAS NO CONJUROR! and of begging pardon of an innocent person whom he had charged with theft! This circumstance had but a slight and temporary effect upon his reputation, and he died in full credit as a magician, in the 50th year of his age.

At Stamford, Mr. Daniel Lambert, whose extraordinary dimensions have for some years rendered

him an object of curiosity. He had travelled the day preceding his death from Huntingdon, and on his arrival in the evening he sent a message to the office of the Stamford newspaper, requesting that, as "the mountain could not wait upon Mahomet, Mahomet would go to the mountain”—or, in other words, that the printer would call upon him, and receive an order for executing some handbills, announcing Mr. Lambert's arrival, and his desire to see company." The orders he gave upon that occasion were delivered without any presentiment that they were to be his last, and ,with his usual cheerfulness. He was iu bed--one of large dimensions-("Ossa upon Olympus, and Pelion upon Ossa")-fatigued with his journey; but anxious that the bills might be quickly printed, in order to his seeing company next morning. Before nine o'clock, on that morning, he was a corpse. He was in his 40th year, and upon being weighed a few days before his death, by the famous Caledonian balance (in the possession of Mr. Ring, of Ipswich) was found to be 52 stone 11lbs. in weight, (14lbs. to the stone) which is 10 stone 11lbs. more than the celebrated Bright, of Essex, ever weighed. He had apartments at Mr. Berridge's, the Waggon and Horse's Inu, St. Martin's, on the ground floor-for he had been long incapable of walking up stairs. His coffin, in which there was great difficulty to place him, is 6 feet 4 inches long, 4 feet 4 inches wide, and 2 feet 4 inches deep: the immense substance of his legs makes it necessarily a square case. This coffin, which consists of 112 superficial feet of elm, was built upon two axle-trees and four cog VOL. LI.

wheels; and upon these his remains were rolled into his grave, which was in a new burial ground at the the back of St. Martin's church. A regular descent was made, by slop ing it for some distance. It was found necessary to take down the window and wall of the room in which he lay to allow his exit.The following particulars of this remarkable man may be relied on as authentic, having been taken from his own mouth. Mr. Daniel Lambert was born on the 13th of March, 1770, in the parish of St. Margaret, at Leicester. From the extraordinary bulk to which he attained, the reader may naturally be disposed to enquire, whether his parents were persons of remarkable dimensions? This was not the case, nor were any of his family inclined to corpulence, excepting an uncle and aunt on the father's side, who were both very heavy. The former died during the infancy of Lambert, in the capacity of gamekeeper to the Earl of Stamford, to whose predecessor his father had been huntsman in early life.

The family of Mr. L. senior, consisted, besides Daniel, of another son, who died young, and two daughters, who are still living, and both women of the common size.The habits of young Lambert were not, in any respect, different from those of other young persons, till the age of fourteen. Even at an early period he was strongly attached to the sports of the field.This, however, was only the natural effect of a very obvious cause, aided probably by an innate propensity to those diversions. We have, already mentioned the profession of his father and uncle, and have yet to observe, that his maternal grandfather was a great cock-fighter. Born and Y y

bred