Mr. Skrine, his apothecary.  We found his senses clear, and his mind calm:  his nurse and several servants were about him.  He told us he had sent for us to give him an account of an odd sensation he had for some time observed and felt in himself; which was, that, by composing himself, he could die or expire when he pleased; and yet by an effort, or somehow, he could come to life again, which he had sometimes tried before he had sent for us.  We heard this with surprise; but, as it was not to be accounted for upon common principles, we could hardly believe the fact as he related it, much less give any account of it; unless he should please to make the experiment before us, which we were unwilling he should do, lest, in his weak condition, he might carry it too far.  He continued to talk very distinctly and sensibly above a quarter of an hour about this surprising sensation, and insisted so much on our seeing the trial made, that we were at last forced to comply.  We all three felt his pulse first—­it was distinct, though small and thready, and his heart had its usual beating.  He composed himself on his back, and lay in a still posture for some time:  while I held his right hand, Dr. Baynard laid his hand on his heart, and Mr. Skrine held a clean looking-glass to his mouth.  I found his pulse sink gradually, till at last I could not find any by the most exact and nice touch.  Dr. Baynard could not feel the least motion in his heart, nor Mr. Skrine the least soil of breath on the bright mirror he held to his mouth; then each of us by turns examined his arm, heart, and breath, but could not, by the nicest scrutiny, discover the least symptom of life in him.  We reasoned a long time about this odd appearance as well as we could, and all of us judging it inexplicable and unaccountable; and, finding he still continued in that condition, we began to conclude that he had indeed carried the experiment too far; and at last were satisfied he was actually dead, and were just ready to leave him.  This continued about half an hour.  As we were going away, we observed some motion about the body; and, upon examination, found his pulse and the motion of his heart gradually returning.  He began to breathe gently and speak softly.  We were all astonished to the last degree at this unexpected change; and, after some further conversation with him, and among ourselves, went away fully satisfied as to all the particulars of this fact, but confounded and puzzled, and not able to form any rational scheme that might account for it.”

HERMOTIMUS

  I.

  “Wilt not lay thee down in quiet slumber? 
    Weary dost thou seem, and ill at rest;
  Sleep will bring thee dreams in starry number—­
    Let him come to thee and be thy guest. 
        Midnight now is past—­
        Husband! come at last—­
    Lay thy throbbing head upon my breast.”

  II.