actual reduction of temperature as would reach this point is impracticable; and it must therefore, if the folution of the problem is to be attempted, be determined by calculation. Dr Irvine was led, by the views his theory fuggefted, to the invention of a method of ascertaining the natural zero or point of total privation of heat, this method being founded on the confideration of the change of the capacity of bodies during their fufion, and of the quantity of caloric neceffary to produce fluidity.' It is fully ftated (p. 116.) from a manufcript of Dr Irvine's, which, from its length, we cannot infert. We can only obferve, that it refts on the affumption that the quantity of caloric contained in bodies is proportioned to their capacity. If, therefore, the difference in the capacity of a body in its different states, for example, in thofe of folidity and fluidity, be determined, and if the quantity of caloric which it has absorbed or given out in the change of state be ascertained, we difcover, by a fimple calculation, the quantity of caloric it contains, and consequently the point in the thermometrical scale at which it would be deprived of caloric,the quantity being equal to the capacity of the folid multiplied by the latent heat, and divided by the difference of the capacities. It may likewife be determined by the comparison of the capacities of any two bodies which unite chemically before and after mixture, combined with the obfervation of the heat given out at the fame time.' From experiments in both modes, Dr Irvine fixed the zero at 900 below o of Fahrenheit. We cannot enter on the subject more fully, but may merely remark, that although the principle on which the folution of the problem is attempted is probably juft, there are so many sources of error in the estimation of the capacities, and even in determining the quantities of heat evolved or absorbed, that we cannot place much confidence in the refults; and accordingly these have differed widely as obtained by different experimenters. This has been ascribed to a radical fault in the method itself, while, on the other hand, it has been contended, that it may arise from the errors to which the methods of fixing the grounds of the calculation are liable; a position which Dr Irvine junior has, we think, fucceeded in establishing. We have entered fo fully into the confideration of the first, and undoubtedly the most interesting part of this volume, that we can scarcely offer any obfervations on the remaining parts. The fecond is compofed of effays written by Dr Irvine, and feveral of them read before the Literary Society of Glafgow. As the production of a man of talents and celebrity they muit excite intereft; but, independent of this, we have found in them fome original views, and a number of curious and important facts, which we acknowledge, from confidering the ftate of chemistry at the time they were written, we did not expect. The firft unfolds the principle on which the evolution of heat from chemical combination depends, and which Dr Crawford afterwards fo fuccessfully applied to the explanation of the origin of animal temperature, and of the heat produced in combuftion. Among the others, we would particularly diftinguifh the effays on the feeds and roots of plants and on foils, and those on fermentation. In the former we have views of the circumftances connected with the growth, nutrition, and propagation of vegetables, of the nature of foils, the caufes of their fertility, the changes they fuffer by cultivation, and their adaptation to particular plants, which, even now, with the aid of modern chemistry, could not perhaps be much improved, and which the naturalift and the fcientific agriculturift will peruse with pleasure. In the latter there are fome practical details on the procefs of fermentation, and the fubftances susceptible of it, and fome facts and principles ftated which we have been taught to believe were of more recent difcovery. In an effay on the quantity of matter in bodies, we have a very good sketch of the chemical views which immediately preceded the theory of Lavoifier, and fome striking experiments on the increase of weight in metallic folutions. The laft part of the work confifts of two effays by Dr Irvine junior; one on latent heat, in which are related a series of experiments on the quantities of caloric which become latent in the fufion of fulphur, and of feveral of the metals, and which have added fome facts to those before known; and another on the affections of fulphur with caloric, directed principally to the inveftigation of the fingular property which that fubftance exhibits of thickening after its fufion, by an elevation of temperature within a cer tain extent. ART. XI. Nathan the Wife: a Dramatic Poem. Written originally in German. By G. E. Lefling. 8vo. pp. 293. London. 1805. WE E met with this volume by accident, a fhort time ago, and have been fo much edified by its perufal, that we haften to give our readers an account of it. It is a genuine German drama, written without any imitation of French or English, and admirably calculated to elucidate the native and peculiar tafte of that ingenious people. They have borrowed fo much of late from both thefe quarters, that it may reafonably be doubted, whether a relifh for their own original and and appropriate literature be altogether fo common in this country as is ufually imagined. This book, we think, will afford a very useful test for determining that important problem, and will enable the reader immediately to afcertain whether he has hitherto admired the true German genius itself, or only its imitation of French and English. A traveller may very erroneously fuppofe that he relishes German cookery, when he gormandizes on fricandeau or plum-pudding at Vienna; but if he take delight in four krout and wild-boar venifon, he may reft affured that he is under no mistake as to the proficiency he has made, and that he has completely reconciled himself to the national taste of his entertainers. The work before us is as genuine four krout as ever perfumed a feast in Weftphalia. The ftory, in point of absurdity, we think, is fairly entitled to bear away the palm from the celebrated German play in the poetry of the Antijacobin: the moral is no lefs comfortable; and the diction, though not altogether fo lofty, is, upon the whole, entitled to equal admiration. The scene is laid in Jerufalem in the time of the crufades; and the ftory turns chiefly upon the adventures of a young Templar, who had been made captive by the armies of the celebrated Saladin. This monarch, who is reprefented as a pattern of mildnefs and generofity, chufes to amufe himself one morning by feeing the heads of twenty prifoners ftruck off by his chief execu tioner, and witneffes the operation upon nineteen of them with fingular complacency and fatisfaction. Being ftruck, however, with a fort of refemblance which the twentieth feemed to bear to a favourite brother, who had disappeared many years before, he directs his life to be fpared, and allows him to roam at large, in a fcarving condition, through all the streets of Jerufalem. In one of his evening rambles, this youth perceives the houfe of Nathan the Jew to be on fire; and gallantly going to the affiftance of the city firemen, is the means of delivering the Jew's daughter from the flames. The young Ifraelite very naturally falls in love with her preferver; but he, having a bad opinion of the whole nation, keeps out of the way of her gratitude, till Nathan finds him out, and wins the affection of this Christian champion in a moment, by affuring him that he is not a Jew, but only a fort of Deift, who has acquired a habit of going to the fynagogue without meaning any thing. The Templar protefts that he is himself of the very fame faith; and, after vowing eternal friendship, he goes home with him and falis furiously in love with the daughter. In the mean time, Saladin fends for the Jew to lend him money, and to afk him which of the three religions is the best, K 3 the the Chriftian, Jewish, or Mahometand! The learned Rabbi án fwers, that they are all very good in their way; but that it is impoffible to fay, till the day of judgment, which is the best and then gratifying his royal pupil with heaps of gold, he leaves him enchanted with his wifdom and munificence. The Templary without confidering his vow of celibacy, now becomes very uro gent to marry the daughter of Nathan; and fome accidental obftacles being thrown in the way, it turns out, rft, that this fair creature is not the Jew's daughter, but the daughter of a Chriftian Knight, who had confided her to his charge; 2d, that the gallant Templar is the fon of the Saracen prince who had difappeared from Saladin's court, and, wandering into Europe, had been feized with the caprice of becoming a Knight Templar, and fighting against his own beloved brother, under which character he had chofen, however inconfiftently, to marry a German lady, and beget this young hero; and, 3d, that the fame illuftrious convert was alfo the father of the Jew's reputed daughter, and confequently, that these young lovers ftand to each other in the relation of brother and fifter. The moft edifying part of the ftory is, that this difcovery produces no fort of uneafinefs or disturbance to the parties concerned; on the contrary, the young people feem quite delighted with the occurrence; and the author leaves them embracing their uncle the Sultan, in a paroxyfm of filial and paternal affection. Such is the fable of Nathan the Wife. Its moral, we are informed, is to inculcate the duty of mutual indulgence in religious opinions: and truly, it must be confeffed that it does this in a very radical and effectual way, by urging, in a very confident manner, the extreme infignificance of all peculiar fyftems of faith, or rather, the ftrong prefumption against any of them being at all worth attending to, or in any refpect better than another. The author's whole fecret, for reconciling Jews, Mahometans, and Chriftians to each other, is, to perfuade them all to renounce their peculiar tenets, and to reft fatisfied with a kind of philofophical deifm, in which they may all agree. The play, we are told, had a great effect in Germany, in quelling the diffenfions of contending fectares; and it is now made public in England with the fame benevolent purpose. We would do much to forward the end, but we can by no means reconcile ourfelves to the means which are here recommended. We fhall quote a line or two, to fhew that we do not at all misreprefent the doctrines of the author, when we fay, that his antidote for religious intolerance is abfolute indifference, or infidelity. When the Templar is reproaching the Jew with the prejudices and fuperftitions of his nation, he answers, • Nath. • Nath. -Defpife my nation We did not chufe a nation for ourselves. Are we our nations? What's a nation then? Were Jews and Chriftians fuch, ere they were men ? it is enough to be a man? • Temp. That haft thou; Nathan, by God, thou haft. Thy hand; I blush p. 104. to have mistaken thee a fingle instant.' This pious Knight makes a still clearer profession of his faith in a dialogue with a Christian woman, in which the poor damsel having happened to say, Daya. -nor were this time the first, when thro' an unexpected path he answers, Temp. So folemn that and yet if in the ftead of Saviour, I were to fay Providence, it would found true p. 170. The creed of the Sultan appears, from a variety of passages, to be equally liberal and accommodating. The diction and composition of this piece is not, as we have already observed, altogether so magnificent or ambitious as that of the modern German theatre. It aims rather at great simplicity and aptness. The dialogue is the most familiar and natural imaginable, and the metaphors and figures which are introduced the most humble and homely. There is a vein of innocent jocularity which runs through the whole drama; and the sultan and his ministers gibe and play upon each other, in the very same style of infantine raillery and impatience, which prevails between the young Jewess and her governante. The personages are all very quick and snappish withal, without ever subjecting themselves to the agitation of the greater passions; and the author has contrived. most ingeniously to produce a drama, which has all the levity of comedy, without its wit or vivacity, and all the extravagance of tragedy, without its passion or its poetry. The translator, we think, has done great justice to his original; except that his partiality for the German idiom has induced him to stick to it occasionally, to the manifest prejudice of his English: his notions of metrical harmony are probably borrowed from the same source. But our readers will judge better of the work by a specimen. The following is the Templar's first soliloquy, after he has fallen in love with the Jewess. Temp. 'Tis fure 1 Aed in vain ; but more than fly I could not do, whatever K 4 comes |