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of the external air, or by capillary ther the tubes were fixed from the root, attraction, as was formerly imagined, for instance, on the extremity of a branch, but by irritation from the stimulus of at the distance of 44 feet 3 inches, the light and heat, increased perhaps by higher the sap was raised, and the longer the motion of the sap itself, as it it continued to flow, perfectly agreeable ascends. The Doctor tried his expe- to a common observation, that in wallriments chiefly on the vine, by cement- trees the most distant branches draw ing to its mutilated stump, glass hardest, and receive most nourishtubes, each seven feet long, and a quarter ment.

The oldest branches were of an inch diameter, with brass caps, by soonest affected by a change of temwhich they were screwed one above perature, and in them the sap first another, till they rose to the height of began to sink. On July 4th, whilst 36 feet.' At other times he used in- in one Vine, which was planted in a flested tubes, each with columns of pot, sap was rising, and a considermercury, to be put in motion by the able quantity was daily pressing ascending sap. In the former, the through the stem, to supply the evasap ran over; in the latter, the mer- poration from its leaves, which amountcurial gage stood at 38 inches, which ed to many ounces in the day; another he reckoned equal to the pressure of Vine, being cut off within three inches more than 43 feet of water. To one of the ground, was so far from emitting thriving branch, in a prime bleeding sap, that it imbibed water from the season, he fixed tubes to the height tube, at the rate of one foot per hour: of 25 feet, and in two hours the sap flowed thereby demonstrating, that the sap in over! By these gages, it appeared, the former Vine rose by the stimulus 1st. That the såp began visibly to rise of light and heat, not by trusion from March 10th, when the thermometer by the root. day stood only at three degrees above “When the sap was flowing with the freezing point; 2dly. That April the greatest vigour, the stems did not 18th it was at its height and vigour; dilate, as they evidently do by rain, which 3dly. That from that time to May 5th enters the perSPIRING PORÉS. This the force gradually decreased ; Athly. makes it clear, that the sap passes That it constantly rose fastest from through its proper vessels, and that it sunrise to about 9 or 10 in the morn- is confined by these. From all these ing, and then, unless the day was observations and experiments, is it cloudy, gradually subsided till about not clear, Ist. That the stimulating 5 or 6 o'clock in the afternoon, after powers are light and heat? 2d. That which it slowly rose again; but on a the irritability of plants is the greatest cool and cloudy day, it subsided only in spring, and least in autumn? and from about 12 o'clock to 2 in the after that being accumulated during the noon. If in the morning, while the night, it is exhausted, in some measap was rising, and a cold wind blew, sure, before the middle of the day? the sun was clouded, the sap would By various experiments of Doctor immediately begin to sink at the rate of Hale's, compared with those of Docan inch per minute; but when the sun tor Ingenhouze, it is evident, that shone out, it rose again. Moisture and vegetables in summer, whilst they warmth made the sap most vigorous, enjoy the sun, are incessantly decommore especially after cold weather, caus- posing water, and emitting from their ing it to rise all day, although slowest leaves, oxygen, combined with caloabout noon. It rose likewise sooner ric, in the form of vital air. And it is in the morning after cool weather, clear, that as long as water is supplied than after hot days.

abundantly, they not only preserve “ In the beginning or middle of the their vigour, even at mid-day, with the season, if warm weather has made the most fervent heat, as in the south of sáp flow vigorously, that vigour would Spain, but make a rapid progress in be immediately much abated by cold their growth, and emit a proportioneasterly winds. When the tube was able quantity of vital air. May we fixed to a very short stump of a Vine, not infer from thence, that their irritawithout any lateral branches, and at bility depends on oxygen and heat; only seven inches from the ground; the and their vital energy, on a plentiful sap flowed incessantly, and fastest of supply of these reviving elements; all in the greatest heat of the day, whilst the hydrogen of the water not sinking only after sun-set. The fur- only supplies the combustible part of vegetables, but, by depositing its | £1. 10s. at two years old, and the caloric, maintains the vital heat? That wool will more than pay all the exthe motion of the sap depends on irri- pensé of keeping.–Now, in this young tation, will be still more evident, if man you see a New South Wales we consider the effect produced by grazier. Hundreds more may choose insects; for wherever they have depo- estates equally good, and stock them sited their eggs, the part begins to with equal advantage. swell."

The roads from this part, across the Thus far Doctors Hales and Towns- mountains, are very bad ; and upon end.

their lofty summits there is no pastu. I think these truly curious extracts rage for cattle; in consequence of need no comment of mine, though I which, the traveller is obliged to concould confirm many parts of them from tinue his journey, instead of resting: observations in my own little garden. I only stopped about three hours in

R. G. P. the 120 miles, and that was at a conReading, 9th of the 10th Month, 1822. vict's bark-hut, very far removed from

the residence of any other human

being. I came to it at midnight; it Extract of a Letter from New South was very dark, and I was weary. The

Wales, ( dated Parramatta, February men, however, who were road makers, 8th, 1822.)

fifteen in number, all got up. Some

watered my horse; others boiled the BATHURST, the little settlement which kettle, and made me some tea. They I visited, is 120 miles west of Parra. sat up all night, and piled their wool matta, and 15 more from Sydney. beds one upon another, that I might The country for many miles round it lie upon them comfortably. They very much resembles, in its present knew not that they should get any natural state, the pastures of Wilt- remuneration, but seemed to act from shire, with this difference, that in the that generous spirit which inherits an neighbourhood of Bathurst the beau- English breast. These poor convicts tiful plains are finely interspersed had no shirts, but woollen frocks and with tufts of trees, ever green. I was trowsers. They had food enough, but accompanied by a young man, who no wages. A mutilated copy of the New selected a piece of land which I had Testament composed their library. received from the crown, in common They earnestly requested me to send with others in this colony ; its dimen- them a copy of the whole Scriptures, sions were 600 acres. He fixed upon which of course I shall not omit. The a spot about 12 miles east of Bathurst; thermometer stands now in my study one side line was the Fish-river, upon at 110° in the shade ; and in the sun the banks of which his farm runs 119o. The winds are hot from the nearly two miles; on the other side is west-we have an alarming drought. a beautiful hill, of gentle acclivity, with here and there a cluster of trees, not so thick as to destroy herbage, but sufficiently so to afford a partial shade. About 400 acres of this land are fine MR. EDITOR. alluvial soil, without a single tree, Sir, Mr. Cuff, Secretary to the Earl into which it is only necessary to put of Essex, was executed in the reign the plough, and a heavy crop of wheat of Queen Elizabeth for the same may be confidently expected. The offence which brought his master to whole has the appearance of an Eng- the block. At the place of execution lish gentleman's lawn.

he made the following speech, which, The young owner put about 80 head if you think it worthy your notice, is of horned cattle to graze upon it, and at your service. 700 sheep, with three shepherds, and

W. J. R. Ca stockman; to maintain these men, Deptford, October, 19, 1822. £25 per annum each man is required. Next year he will probably have from “I AM here adjudged to die for acting 30 to 40 calves, each of which will be an act never plotted, for plotting a worth £10 at least, in three years; he plot never acted. Justice will have will also get more than 300 lambs next her course ; accusers must be heard ; year, each of which will be worth greatness must have the victory; No. 47.VOL. IV.

4 B

A REMARKABLE SPEECH.

B.

scholars and martialists (though learn- That rose amid the lonely vale,
ing and valour should have the pre- And, o! with mingled griet and joy,
eminence) in England,

must die like He mark’d the top of old Knock-boy ;' dogs, and be hanged. To mislike this For near it dwelt the lovely maid, were but folly; to dispute it, but time That first his youthful heart betray’d. lost; to alter it, is impossible; but to What though he heard that maid was dead, endure it, is manly; and to scorn it, is And hope had quite his bosom fled; magnanimity. The queen is displeas- Her image haunted still bis breast? ed, the lawyers imperious, and death He call’å to mind the bazel bow'r, terrible; but I crave pardon of the He thought upon the raptur'd hour queen, forgive lawyers and the world, She met him on Glenocum's** side, desire to be forgiven, and welcome And pledg'd her soul to be his bride.

But woe betide the cruel morn death."

That Donald from bis love was torn,

And forc'd in foreign climes to roam,
POETRY.

An exile from his native home :
Though now retarn’d, prepar’d to show,

The baseness of each sland'rous foe;
DONALD,---A Tale founded on Fact. And view his native plains once more,
By Jobn Getty, Randalstown, Author of the He fear’d his days of joy were o'er.
Account of Belfast, The Life of Carolan,
and various other articles in the Edinburgh when all was friendship, love, and truth,

But still the scenes of early youth, Encyclopædia, &c. &c.

Would thrill with rapture through his soul,

And sorrow's deepest sigh control; The sun was set behind the bill,

As down the vale bis anxious eye And ev'ning came serene and still ;

The well-known cottage yet could spy,
The flocks and herds were sunk to rest, Where dwelt, when he was forc'd away,
Upon the distant mountain's breast;

His dearest friend and comrade gay.
As Donald bad in weary plight,
Attain's Knock-ramer's* heath-clad height;

So hast’ning down the mountain-side,

With weary steps he onward hied, From which around him lay display'd,

To gain the cot ere twilight gray The wildest bills that skirt the Braid.t

Would yield to nigbt her milder sway. Far to the south, old Slemisht gray

Yet oft ihe robin's ev'ning song, Still caught the last faint smile of day;

He paus’d to bear the dells among ; While eastward, Claggin's woody hills

And shepherd's whistle, far away, Pour'd forth a thousand crystal rills :

That echo'd wild o'er glen and brae. But Quila's|| mountains seem'd in view,

And now the mountain-burn he past, Clad with a vest of misty hue,

Where, with his friend, he parted last, * Knock-ramer-A hill lying north of Sle

And mark'd the spreading bawthorn tree, mish; from it to the glens, near Cushendall,

Where many a childish sport had be. there is not a single house for the space of But when be reach'd the cottage door, several miles. About a century ago, a great And thought his toil and journey o'ermountain, and the large furrows which it made To find no friend nor welcome there! are still visible, and go by the name of the

The lonely cot a wreck be found, Water Breaks.

And nought but silence reign'd around. + Braid-The most mountainous district in His gen'rous soul, to view the scene, the county of Antrim. The Grund-ridge, or Wa- For, 6! he fear'd his friend was dead,

Was piero'd with anguish sharp and keep; tershed of the county, from which the waters flow eastward to the sea on the one side, and

Or forc'd to leave his native shed;

And doom'd in want and woe to stray, westward to Loughneagh and the Bann on the other, commences to the south of Devis, By carst oppression's lawless sway; near Belfast, and keeping pretty closely to the

Wasted with hunger, toil, and grief, eastern shore, extends to Knock-layde, near

And no kind hand to yield relief. Ballycastle; but in the Braid, the mountains Repining at his luckless lot, branch out into more irregular groups, and ex

He left the melancholy spot, hibit a more bleak and dreary appearance. Knock-coghrum’stt well-known mountain side;

And sought with faint but hasty stride The inhabitants, however, of this district, are a hospitable, well-informed class, greatly resembling the Scotch in their language and man- (Knock-boy-A hill lying above the village ners; and in the four towns of Skirry is a very of Broughshane, it signifies the Yellow hill. old respectable book club.

** GlenocumA small stream, having its #Slemish-Supposed to be the highest moun- source in the Quila mountains, and running tain in the county of Antrim, from which you past Tullymore-lodge, the seat of the Hon. have a fine view of Ailsu, and some of the Col. O'Neill, M.P. There is a small cascade Higbland isles.

on this river, about three miles from its fall $ Claggan mountains were once beautifully into the Braid water. It is sometimes called fringed with woods, the haunt of the wild-cat, Artoaz, which signifies the water of the little martin, and fox.

hills. It is a beautiful romantic stream. | Quila, or Coila, lies westward of Knock- tt Knock-coghram- A hill lying S. W. of

Knock-ramer.

ranier.

When, lo! in all her virgin charms,
His plighted maid rush'd to his arms!
He clasp'd ber to his beating breast,
A thousand kisses deep impress'd;
And thus the lovely maid address'a ;-
“ You see there's nought but this weak arm
To shield you now from hurt or harm;
Yet while that arm can wield a brand,
Fear nothing from yon ruffian's band;
But hark! their signal whistle shrill,
Is answer'd from the neighb’ring hill;
A moment if we here delay,
We both must fall an easy prey.

Instant the lovers westward bied,
To reach Glenocum's silver tide;
While Donald heard the maiden tell,
With joy, his friend was safe and well;
And soon be hoped for vengeance due
On the bold villain and his crew,
Who would have forc'd away the maid,
But for his providential aid;
And soon they reach'd the hazel glen,
Secure from dread and danger then.
For now the morning's early ray
Gilded the top of Slemish gray,
Just as they reach'd her father's cot,
Content and happy with their lot.

IMPROMPTU, On reading Mrs. Opie's admirable work,

“Temper, or Domestic Scenes.”

Resolved to rest, till dawning day Would light him with its cheering ray.

Now night her gloomy curtain spread
Around the mountain's lonely head;
The fox was howling on the Luir,
All else was still on glen and moor,
Except the distant river's swell,
Swift rushing down its rocky dell.
The blossom'd heath and flow'rets fair,
Scented with sweets the midnight air;
Wbile new-mown hay, and blooming broom,
Sent from the vale a rich perfume,
So sweet along the mountain's breast,
That Donald felt their charms confest,
And sunk, resign'd, a while to rest.

Bat scarcely did his eyelids close
In one short moment of repose,
Wben, lo! a deep and dismal cry
Startled his drowsy ear and eye;
And op he rose in wild amaze,
And looking round with eager gaze,
Westward, among the heath and fern,
His eye could easily discern,
A female form was dragg'd along
By two bold ruffians stout and strong;
And as they near and nearer drew,
Behind a bush he crept from view,
And list’ning with attentive ear,
These words he could distinctly hear :
“ Cry not again, or if you do,
Instant my dagger runs you through !
Too long my too fond love has borne
Your cold neglect and cruel scorn;
But fortune in a lucky hour,
Has brought you now within my pow'r;
On yonder bill, a chosen band
Await my whistle and command ;
When once we get within their cry,
Your friends and foll'wers we defy;
You then shall yield, and be my wife
Or pay your ransom with your life !"

With trembling voice, the maid replied,
“I ne'er will yield, nor be your bride."
And with that word from Donald fled
The thoughts of danger, toil, and dread;
His fearless blade he boldly drew,
Like lightning o'er the beath he flew-
Brandish'd bis weapon high in air,
And dauntless, shouted_Here they are !”
Wbile echo from the mountain's side,
Return'd an answer far and wide.
Not swister flies the bounding roe,
When startled by her deadly foe,
Than flew the villains, winy'd with fear,
As if a hundred foes were near;
And scarcely thought themselves secure,
Until they reach'd

the distant moor.
While Donald dropt his shining blade,
And gently rais’d the trembling maid;
With hasty speech inquir'd her name,
And from what house or hall she came ?
She answer'd, “Near Glenocum's side
My aged sire and friends abide.
Last ev’ning, as I chanc'd to stray,
Yon villains base in ambush lay,
And seized me-while to you I owe,
My life preserv'd from treach'rous foe.

He heard with wonder and surprise,
And scarce believ'd his doubting eyes ;

* Luir, or Lure-A place near the Clagginbills, formerly a great haunt of foxes.

What gives to homeliness a charm,

Unfading bloom, resistless grace, Which Time improves, whose ruthless hand

Destroys the witchcraft of the face? A Temper even and benign,

Sedate amidst the storms that rise On life's tempestuous sea,--serene

As ev'ning suns in cloudless skies. What adds to beauty's winning smiles ?

What rivets beauty's pleasing chain ? What most attracts the good and wise?

What will esteem and love obtain ?
A Temper smooth as flows the stream,

Unruffled as the vernal air,
When zephyr waves his silken wings,

Good Temper makes the fair--more fair! It gives a fascinating grace,

When sets the sun of beauty's pow'r, As rising Cynthia's placid beam

Sheds lastre on the midnight hour.

TO THE SUN.-By John Gorton.

MONARCH of day, high soy'reign of the year,
Of this our system (amid nam'rous systems)
The only fix'd star; great and mighty cause,
Next to thy Maker, of both heat and light;
Conservator of life; effulgent source,
Whence Plenty draws her inexhausted store,
And joy his constant reign ; all-cheering lamp,
Whose never-failing beams, blessings diffuse
To various worlds that round thee gladly

roll, Proud of thy friendship, pleas'd t'accept thy

favour, That with po niggard spirit is pour'd down

On them perpetually; how may I sing, And when the sun shall just appear
Great computist of time, thy wondrous fame? On the horizon bright and clear,
Thy grandeur who can tell i Lost in its blaze,

In all its glory;
The mental, as the visual nerve, must fail, Or when its wondrous pow'r shall have
When on thy glories plac'd ; equip'd in light, Quench'd its soft light in yon blue wave,
How inexpressible! seem'st thou to hold, And gone to him alone who gave
Thro' the wide range of heav'n, thy course A luminary;
sublime,

May I behold, at eve or morn,
Invariable, and never deviat'st,
Nor alterest in thy look. Men, mountains, Having no friend on earth but scorn

(Alone, neglected, and forlorn, trees,

And melancholy;)
Originate and decay ; oceans have been,
That are gone now; and earth herself bas The morning sun-beams as they rise,
known

Or catch theffulgence as it dies,

Leaving the concave of the skies
Vicissitude, and many a serious shock;

So solitary!
But thou, majestic orb, still art the same,
Unliable to change. What hast thou seen, And may I sweetly hear the swain
What hast thou not seen, during thy long pas- Sing of his loves in plaintive straiu,
sage ?

While echoes answer back again
Thou laagh’st at th' historian's pany efforts His heart-felt ditty ;
To memorize past ages; books how trivial, And as it melts upon the breeze,
And all the information they contain,

And gently rustles 'mong the trees,
To what's been view'd by thee? The acts of Give me to pity.
men,

And when the tear steals o'er bis cheek,
Deeds bloody, full of woe, hast thou beheld,
And wilt behold again; ambition rising

May I in consolation speak,

And feel his sorrow;
To eminence, then down to ruin hasting.
A little band of heroes at one time

I envy not that meaner breast

Which cannot beal the inind distrest, Raising the tree of freedom; at another,

Nor can I ever think it best Oppression foul its goodly branches blasting.

Its throes to borrow.
Oh! that thou could'st survey man's bitterest
foes,

When day departs, oh! may I roam,
Grim war, dire tyranny, suppress'd for ever, Amid the solitary gloom,
Together with their barbarous implements !

At ev’ning close;
Then would each patriot's breast expand with there to behold the stars of light,
joy,

And hold sweet converse with the nigbt, And dearer still would doubly prize thy beam. While the moon sickens at the sight*

Of dire repose.

Give me, when darkness clothes the sky, SECLUSION.

To woo the gale which passes by

Airy and light; “ La solitude est charmante."-ANON.

And never may I close my eyes

Until my pray'r to beav'n shall rise, GIVE me contentment and a cot,

Then may I dream of yon blue skies, Plac'd in some solitary spot

To chase the night. From public gaze;

Lostwithiel.

R. L.
There let tbe ivy twine around,
While flow'rets deck th' adjacent ground,

LINES
And flocks and herds may there be found
To low and graze.

On reading Mr. Bailey's publication, “The

Carnival of Death."
Oh! let my unaspiring shed
Be to the world of tumult dead,

Rise, Genius! rise, proclaim the reign of In lowly quiet;

peace, Around the door may roses twine,

And bid war's horrors, murder, rapine, cease ; And sweetest scented jessamine

Hurl false-nam'd glory from her soaring Their evanescent scents combine

throne, In nature riot.

And dash the warrior's trophied column down; There on a bench may I inhale

Blight on his gory brow the blood-stain'd The fragrance of the passing gale,

wreath, In contemplation;

Expose the fiends which haunt the field of

death Thus may I dream away my days, And fear not censure, court not praise,

To the world's execrating eye ;-unbind For in amusements such as these

The fetters which intbral th'immortal mind; Is consolation.

Drag from his lair ambition's monstrous mien,
Unmask his hideous heart, and let his crimes

be seen.
As soon as morning lights the sky,
And dews from off the

grass
shall die,

Forbid the mase to pour her magic strain I'll quit my pillow,

Around th' ensanguin'd crest, and o'er the To hear the lark's sweet music rise,

plain In grateful cadence to the skies-Or may I feast my longing eyes

“So sicken waning moons too near the sun." On yon green billow.

DRYDEN.

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