There was supposed to be a gem called a carbuncle, which emitted, not reflected, but native light.[50] Our old literature abounds with allusions to this miraculous gem. Shakspeare has made use of it in _Titus Andronicus_, where Martius goes down into a pit, and, by it, discovers the body of Lord Bassianus; and calls up to Quintus thus:[51] “Lord Bassianus lies embrewed here, All on a heap, like to a slaughter’d lamb, In this detested, dark, blood-drinking pit. _Quintus._ If it be dark, how dost thou know ’tis he? _Martius._ Upon his bloody finger he doth wear A precious ring, that lightens all the hole, Which, like a taper in some monument, Doth shine upon the dead man’s earthy cheek, And show the ragged entrails of this pit: So pale did shine the moon on Pyramus, When he by night lay bathed in maiden’s blood.” Ludovicus Vartomannus, a Roman, reporteth that the king of Pege (or Pegu), a city in India, had a carbuncle (ruby) of so great a magnitude and splendor, that by the clear light of it he might, in a dark place, be seen, even as if the room or place had been illustrated by the sunbeams. St. or Bishop Epiphanius saith of this gem, that if it be worn, whatever garments it be covered withal, it cannot be hid.[52] It was from a property of resembling a burning coal when held against the sun that this stone obtained the name _carbunculus_; which being afterwards misunderstood, there grew an opinion of its having the qualities of a burning coal and shining in the dark. And as no gem ever was or ever will be found endued with that quality, it was supposed that the true carbuncle of the ancients was lost; but it was long generally believed that there had been such a stone. The species of carbuncle of the ancients which possessed this quality in the greatest degree was the Garamantine or Carthaginian; and this is the true garnet of the moderns.[53] Rings, with a death’s head upon them, were worn by improper characters in the time of Elizabeth of England. This kind of ring is referred to in Beaumont and Fletcher: “---- I’ll keep it, As they keep death’s head in rings: To cry _memento_ to me.”[54] Although we meet with nothing to show the motive for wearing such rings by the characters referred to, we are inclined to fancy the desire was to carry the semblance of a widow and to let the ring have the character of a mourning token. Lord Onslow, who lived in the time of Elizabeth, bequeathed “a ring of gold with a death’s head” to friends.[55] Sir Isaac Newton was possessed of a small magnet set in a ring, the weight of which was only three grains, but which supported, by its attractive power on iron, seven hundred grains. It has been observed that such instances are by no means common, although the smallest magnets appear to have the greatest proportionate power.[56]