of increased temperature. Feb 5th, having placed the largest of the monkies on a pedestal, and covered it with a bell glass, the edges of which rested on a receiver filled with limewater, I fixed my eyes upon it for an hour, in order to have a better view of the phoenomena of respiration; I was convinced beyond a doubt, that during this time the motions of inspiration and expiration were repeated 15 times distinctly, at three intervals of four or five minutes each. On the sanie day, at pine o'clock in the evening, I placed the small monkey upon the outside of my window in a bed of hay. It remained for some time immoveable, simply giving those signs of a languishing respiration which always continues during lethargy; but in an hour I perceived that its respiration became more frequent, and that it appeared rather asleep than torpid; so that the external temperature, which was three degrees and a half above zero, instead of diminishing the respiration, had considerably increased it. I would have left it an hour longer in the same situation; but observing that its respiration continued to increase, and perceiving, on touching it, that the heat of its body was greatly increased, I withdrew it, and returned it to its usual place in the room. I flattered myself that it would not waken entirely; but having visited it about ten o'clock, I found it not only awake, but saw that it had resumed its natural heat and vivacity it leaped suddenly from its nest and hid itself among the hay, as if to avoid the cold, or any other accident which might interrupt its gentle lethargy. Hence it follows, that less time is required to bring monkies out of torpidity than to plunge them into it. The other monkey, which I had placed under the bell-glass, assumed in its little cradle a - position to preserve itself from the cold, and continued to give signs of respiration 14 or 15 times in an hour. I also observed that the water had risen in the bell-glass, and that a pellicle of carbonate of lime was formed.

Feb. 6th, the thermometer in the room being at 6 or 7°, at one P. M., the external temperature having risen to 74, I resolved to expose the torp d monkey, which had been under the bell-glass, upon the sole of my window. My object was, to ascertain if the action of cold, when it increased insensibly, would produce on the animal the same effects which a sudden transition produced, although there was no difference between the temperature of the room and that of the external atmosphere. For two hours and a half the monkey exhibited no increased signs of life; but about six o'clock . I perceived some indications of a strong respiration. The night approaching, the ther mometer gradually fell, so that on the outside of the window the thermometer was at 4 only. At this moment i saw the monkey

agitated by convulsive movements as if from pain: it afterwards stretched itself in its cradle, its respiration increased gradually until it appeared no longer to be torpid, but rather asleep. At seven o'clock it respired 16 times per minute, whereas while in a torpid state it respired only 15 times an hour. The heat of its body, as tried by the ther mometer, increased with the frequency of respiration, so that by half-past nine o'clock it was perfectly awake.

Convinced by this experiment that the action of cold, although it increases almost insensibly, occasions pain to animals in a state of torpidity, I returned the monkey to its bed of hay. I tried to make it walk upon the carpet, but it could not use its hind legs; which were torpid from having been so far from the body.

Feb. 20th, at seven o'clock in the morning, I tried another experiment with the largest torpid monkey: 1 placed it outside my window in a vessel surrounded by ice and muriate of lime. This mixture produced so intense a cold in the receiver, that the thermometer I placed in it fell to 7 below zero. This sudden transition did not excite any sudden convulsive movements in the monkey: in half an hour I observed it to give signs of pain. I observed increasing signs of respiration and expiration, which must have fatigued it much. It was eleven o'clock, however, before it was completely awake. The cold continued very sharp, and it tried to escape from it several times, by moving from side to side in great pain throughout the night. I visited it several times, and found it always trembling: its eyes were half closed. It did not sleep, however, although I left it exposed to the same cold till nine o'clock next morning. I am convinced that a sharper cold would in a short time have plunged it into that lethargy which is followed by death.

The professor has made other experiments on animals in a natural state of torpidity, the result of which cannot but be interesting: but for these we must wait his publication of their results.

"Sitting," say the Hindoos, "is better than walking; sleep, than sitting; and death than sleep." If they knew the effects of a northern winter they would interpose a middle term between sleep and death. Sleep is as necessary for the body, as food; and all animals sleep, though at different times of the day or night. Sleep contributes to strength; yet what it contributes positively, it is not easy to discover. It enwraps the whole person, yet those who dream of great activity and exertion, are not refreshed by sleep. We conclude, then, that sleep, though one of the most ordinary, is one of the most perplexing operations of nature,

THE GATHERER.

Stuff-WOTTON.

No. VII.

It is upon this score that we have seen some of the Indians, who were sensible of

Deaf and Dumb.

The Abbés de l'Epée and Sicard, have enjoyed the credit due to the invention of the admirable art of enabling the deaf and dumb to convey their sentiments by speech. But, it appears from the journals of the time, that so long ago as June 11th, 1749, M. Pereyra, a Jew by descent, but a Spaniard by birth, a man of remarkably mild and conciliating maniners, read to the French Academy a memoir on this subject. A report was inade on this memoir, the 2d of July following, by Messrs. Dortous de Mairan, Buffon, and Ferrein. They highly praised the author. The Mercures for March and April 1750, are to the same effect. The Gatherer takes a pleasure in yielding honour to whom honour is due; and in presenting for the gratitude of mankind the name of Pereyra.

England exempt from dangerous Reptiles. . Britain cannot sufficiently congratulate itself on that great degree of freedom from "dangerous reptiles which it enjoys. The country is now so well cultivated, that little shelter is afforded to them: and if there were wolves in our island now, they could not long continue unknown or undestroyed. We have indeed, adders, and other venomous creatures, but their powers are feeble compared with those of their kind in, hot climates. An instance or two of the hazards to which some places are exposed, may enable those who are happily exempt from such evils to value their happiness, and to express becoming gratitude for it.

Among the several kinds of adders which are to be found in the Indies, some are of so pernicious a nature, that, whenever they infect any person, he dies in an instant, without the least hope of relief. Of this kind are the greenones, of the coast of Malabar.

They are not above an inch thick, but 5 or 6 feet long, and from their greenish colour they are not easily to be discerned in the grass and bushes, where they lie lurking to seize upon such as pass by, and commonly endeavour to fasten either on their eyes, noses,

or ears.

The poison of these pernicions creatures being so volatile, and of so subtil a nature, as to be soon conveyed to the heart, often

"What a virtue is promptitude, where delays are so dangerous!" The naturalist, and the moralist, may adopt the exclamation.

Is it true, that Ireland at present has neither venomous reptiles, nor even harmless frogs in it? And if true, what is the real cause?-For, as to the blessing of St. Patrick, Valeat quantum valere potest.

William Penn assaulted by a Duellist.

I was once

In William Penn's treatise entitled No Cross, No Crown, p. 148, he mentions his haring been, before he professed the cammuniou he was now of, in danger from an assault on a point of honour. myself in France set upon about eleven at night (as I was walking to my lodging) by a person that way-laid me, with his naked sword in his hand, who demanded satisfaction of me, for taking no notice of him, at a time when he civilly saluted me with his hat? Though the truth was, I saw him not when he did it. I will suppose he had killed me (for he made several passes at me) or [ in my Defence had killed him, when I disarmed him: I ask any man of Understanding and Conscience, if the whole Ceremony were worth the Life of one man, considering the Dignity of the Nature, and the Importance of the Life of man, both with respect to God his Creator, Himself, and the benefit of Civil Society ? "

Are any further particulars known concerning this rencontre, which might have deprived the world of a man afterwards o highly esteemed among his society, and so laudable, as a citizen, a legislator, and a governor?In what a wretched state were the manners of the French ration, and the police of the city (of Paris?) where this incident happened! And yet, no doubt, the French-boasted then, as they have since boasted of their nation, as the truly great, the civilized,humane, polite, and, what not?

SONNET.

The traveller, who explores an unknown waste,
And wearied, wanders o'er a boundless way,
Eager the comforts of his home to taste;
Yet wondering what occasions his delay!
If chance some fellow-traveller he views,
Who tells him, that misguided he pursues
An erring course, how drooping and forlorn
He measures, with his anxious gazes, back
The useless steps he took: but soon upborne
By hope anew, seeks out a truer track.

So I, seduced by novelty, had stray'd ·

Far from the scenes where calm contentment dwelt;

Where oft by friendship, oft by love betray'd,

Pleasures flow by untasted and unfelt; And while adown my cheek repentant tears Made me neglect the waste of many years, She snacth'd me far from error's fatal maze ; Taught me how best life's blessings to employ, To scenes of nobler aim my thoughts to raise, Where mortal cares are lost in endless joy.

EPITAPH ON FREDERIC THE GREAT.

[From the French, by Dr. Beattie.]

He every human talent misemploy'd,
And men at once delighted and destroy'd;
Savage in action, but a sage in rhyme,
Each virtue sung, and practis'd every crime ;
The scorn of Venus, but of Mars the pride,

He fill'd his country, and the world with strife; Thousands for him in honour's bed have died,

But from his own not one e'er sprung to life.

TO LAURA.

Can the harmoniz'd tints which the rainbow adorn

The complexion of Laura outvie,

Or the dew-drop, enrich'd by the blushes of morn, The lustre that melts in her eye?

Can the golden light shed when the sun's dying gleams

The cup of the tulip illume,

Excel the soft radjance that o'er her face beams,
When a rosy smile heightens its bloom?

Ah! no; all that nature or art can combine
Is surpass'd by the blaze of her charms;
And far above others that mortal will shine
That enfolds this proud prize in his arms."
I envy not canopied monarchs their throne,
Their sceptre and glittering train
But I envy the man that calls Laura his own,
Tho' a cottage be all his domain.

SONGS, ETC. FROM THE EXILE.
Song.-Count Calmar.

How often will proud memory trace,
When 1, the last of Calmar's race,
Inheriting my native land,

Beheld enslav'd a hapless band,

Who, slow and sullen, bent their stubborn knee,
And sigh'd for heaven's best boon-dear liberty!
"Oppression's sons," I cried, "your'e free,
"I come to give you liberty!"

Awhile amaz'd, 'tween hope and fear,
Dubious the silent crowd appear;

Then shouts of joy proclaim-" We're free! We're free!".

Hail, sweetest boon of heaven, hail liberty!

Thus freedom, with heroic fire,

Can e'en degenerate minds inspire.
Since her glorious call attends,
Valour her daring plan defends,
Freedom by force o'erthrown can never be,
Hail, sweetest boon of heaven, hail liberty!
Recitative, and Air.-Catharine.

She's gone a daughter's gone to save
A banish'd father from an early grave!
Hope her support, and heav'n her guide,
No fears can turn her steps aside,
Nought can o'ercome her filial love,
Eager she rushes on to move,
With lowly suit, and bended knee,
The royal breast to clemency.
Around may gentle zephyrs play,
To cheer the trav'ller on her way!
And oh! may ev'ry pitying power
Befriend her in that anxious hour
When Alexina on her knee
Invokes the royal clemency !

Song.-Count Calmar.

In days of yore! on Pavia's plain,
When haughty France encounter'd Spain,
Fortune awhile in equal balance held

The rage, the woes, the slaughter of the field.
But brave Castilians fir'd,

By patriot zeal inspir'd,

Like knights of old, impetuous, wild, and free,
Rush'd on, and cried :-" For Spain and Chivalry,"
In open battle, not betray'd,

Proud Gallia's king was pris'ner made;
But Spain soon feeling for a fue o'erthrown,
Restor'd the captive monarch to his crown.

For brave Castilians fir'd,

By courtesy inspir'd,

Like knights of old, will die, e'er tarnished see The sacred names of "Spain and Chivairy,"

Song.-Servitz.

Young Lobski said to his ugly wife,
I'm off till to-morrow to fish, my life."
Says Mrs. Lobski, "I'm sure you 'nt',
But

you brute you are going to gallivant."
What Mrs. Lobski said was right;
Gay Mr. Lobski was out all night;
He ne'er went to fish, 'tis known very well,
But where he went i shall not tell.
Next morning Mr. Lobski knew

He had caught no fish, so he bought a few,
Thinks he my wife won't smoke my plot,
And she will bite, tho' the fish did not.
When Lobski to his spouse drew near,

Says she, "what sport have you had, my dear?”.
"The river," says he," is full of water-rats,
"So I've only caught you a dozen sprats."
"A dozen sprats, base man," says she,
"What, catch in the river the fish of the sea?
"You may draw a long line, Mr. Lobski, I know,
"But 'tis clear you can draw a much longer bow.”

Let all men who are frail in flesh,

Observe salt water is not fresh,

For wives their husbands will condemn,

H.

Who think with sprats to gudgeon them