Other persons referred his illness to the deleterious fumes, especially those of Baryta, to which his experiments had exposed him: an opinion recorded in an Epigram,[82] which was circulated amongst the members of the Institution after his recovery. Says Davy to Baryt, "I've a strong inclination To try to effect your deoxidation;" But Baryt replies--"Have a care of your mirth, Lest I should retaliate, and change _you_ to Earth." [82] I received the above _jeu d'esprit_ from the late learned Orientalist, Mr. Stephen Weston, only four days before his death. Since its publication in the first edition of this work, a chemical friend sent me the following improved version of it. Says Davy to Baryt, "I feel strong temptation To effect by my art your deoxidation; And the money I've got in my pocket I'll bet all, I prove you a true, though disguised lad of metal." Says Baryt to Davy, "A truce to your mirth; If you turn me to metal, I'll turn you to earth; So moisten your clay, don't improve Science daily, Nor treat me as you've treated poor Soda and Kali." Upon conversing, however, with Dr. Babington, who, with Dr. Frank, attended Davy throughout this illness, he assured me that there was not the slightest ground for either of these opinions; that the fever was evidently the effect of fatigue and an over-excited brain. The reader will not feel much hesitation in believing this statement, when he is made acquainted with the habits of Davy at this period. His intellectual exertions were of the most injurious kind, and yet, unlike the philosophers of old, he sought not to fortify himself by habits of temperance. Should any of my readers propose to me the same question respecting Davy, as Fontenelle tells us was put to an Englishman in Paris, by a scientific Marquis, with regard to Newton,--whether he ate, drank, and slept like other people?--I certainly should be bound to answer in the negative.