Retrospective Criticism. 293 



of his misfortune. He attempted to rise and pursue his journey, but 

 missing his shoe, requested to have it found, and when he was raised, 

 putting his burnt limb to the ground to support his body, the extremity of 

 his leg bone (the tibia) crumbled into fragments, having been calcined into 

 lime. Still he expressed no sense of pain, and probably experienced none, 

 from the gradual operation of the fire, and his own torpidity, during the 

 hours his foot was consuming. This poor drover survived his misfortunes 

 in the hospital about a fortnight; but the fire having extended to other 

 parts of his body, recovery was hopeless." After being somewhat facetious, 

 K. ends by saying, " We will venture upon no further comment on this 

 story: some things are possible that are passing strange." Now, Sir, as 

 truth is always valuable, and the veracity of all who write upon natural 

 history particularly so, I presume that you will, when your space serves 

 you, feel no difficulty in the admission of this to the same channel as that 

 wherein the incredulity appeared. The author of The Journal of a Na- 

 turalist is here well understood to be J. L. Knapp, Esq. F.L.S., and an 

 honorary member of the Bristol Philosophical and Literary Institution. I 

 have not the pleasure of his acquaintance, and am probably entirely 

 unknown to him ; but I cannot forego this opportunity of thanking him 

 for the amusement and instruction I have received by the perusal of his 

 interesting book. But now for his justification. By a reference to my 

 memoranda, I learn that on the 18th of April, 1817, Thomas Martin, aged 

 fifty, was brought to our hospital, having been burned at a limekiln. The 

 outline of the preceding story is the same as the one related to me by the 

 kilnman and the people who brought him to us. As Mr. Knapp's residence 

 at Alvestone is pretty close to Tockington, on the Thornbury road, where 

 the affair happened, it is exceedingly probable that the same persons were 

 his informants as well as mine. As the man did not appear to be in a 

 state of much suffering, as he did not complain of being otherwise injured, 

 and as his clothes had no appearance of having suffered by the fire, it was 

 not suspected that there was any thing to contend with but the leg. The 

 parts just above the ankle being absolutely burnt to a mere cinder, exhibit- 

 ing a most ghastly appearance, the limb was amputated by Mr. Lowe, the 

 surgeon of the week ; Mr. Nathaniel Smith and myself assisting at the 

 operation. Martin died in fourteen days. I prepared the limb, and depo- 

 sited it in the museum which T lately gave to the charity, considering its 

 history to be very curious. Should you, or any friend, come to this part 

 of the country, I shall be happy to show it, as confirmatory, so far, of my 

 part of this "passing strange" narrative. I have only to add, that should 

 this meet the eye of Mr. Knapp, in the pages of your journal, it will be the 

 first intimation that my pen has been taken up in his vindication. I am. 

 Sir, yours, &c. — Richard Smithy senior Surgeon to the Biistol Infirmary. 

 38. Park Street, Oct. 18. 1831. 



Wilson, the celebrated Ornithologist. — Wilson died of the dysentery on 

 the 23d of August, 1813, as stated by me, p. 103. This fact is attested by 

 Wilson's friend, George Ord, in a Memoir of Wilson, from the pen of 

 Mr. Ord, prefixed to vol. ix. of Wilson's American Ornithology ; and in Sir 

 William Jardine's edition of Wilson's work may be found numerous proofs 

 that Wilson was living in the early part of 1813, and, consequently, that 

 he did not die in 1809, as remarked by your other correspondent in p. 103. 

 Wilson was born in 1766, not " 1776," as misprinted on p. 103. — John 

 Parry. Manchester, January 30. 1832.- 



Hares taking the Water. — So much has been said on this subject, that it 

 becomes tiresome ; or I could confirm it by the testimony of an old man 

 here that sees it by day, and by moonlight as he lies in bed. He keeps the 

 locks on the Ellesmere Canal, and constantly sees them voluntarily swim 

 across and back into Aston Park. — J. F. M. Dovaston. January 8. 1832. 

 . The Stoat ; variation in the Colour of its Fur, according to Season. — Sir^ 



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