James Gates Percival

Anonymous, in "Literary Thermometer. A Dream" The New York Mirror 3 (3 September 1825) 43.

Next came forward to the trial, with apparent unwillingness, a votary of the muses clad in a snuff-coloured frock coat, which did not entirely hide his linen at the elbows. Notwithstanding the poverty of his appearance, his glass was pure crystal, and as he carried it carelessly in his hand, it glittered and sparkled totally unheeded by its owner, till, "Pale, but intrepid, sad, but unsubdued," he raised it slowly between the sun and the thermometer. The effect was instantaneous, and seemed to surprise the holder of the glass as much as it did me. The liquid mounted with considerable effervescence to the point sixty-eight, and would have reached a still higher point, but the glass was withdrawn in seeming disgust. I needed no one to tell me that the bearer of the crystal glass was Dr. PERCIVAL.