occur, but in every part and in every line of separation; which sufficiently demonstrates the existence of these irregularities in every part of her surface, in a way similar to to the varieties which are known to exist on the surface of our Earth,

Besides the mountains which I have already remarked, the face which presents itself to our notice has been divided into the following countries, to which names have been assigned, similar to those which are situate to our globe; as Reigo Hyperborea, or the northern region, Sarmatia, Taurica Chersonesus, Italia, Mœsia, Asia, Colchis, Sicilia, Peloponnesus, Scythia, Persia, Arabia, Palestina, Ægyptus, Lybia, and the Isle of Circunna, with other names of less note. In addition to these distinguishing appropriations, the following names have also been given to the various oceans and seas, &c, which are supposed to exist on the surface; as Mare Hyperboreum, or the northern sea, Paludes Hyperboreæ, or the northern marshes, Simus Hyperboreus, or the northern bay or gulf, Mare Eoum, Mare Mediterraneum, Pontus Euxinus, Palus Meotis, Mare Caspium, Mare Adriaticum, and the Propontis,-names which are sufficiently known to our geo-graphers, and have probably been adopted as nearest in similarity of form or situation to the places respectively on our globe.

But others have drawn a very different conclusion, in many of these respects from what has been stated. These persons argue, that there are no seas, lakes, &c. and assign as a reason, that these appearances can never be seen in any liquid substance; which I have considered it is my duty to mention, though without being supposed to give it any particular sanction or approbation. Yet I shall not contend about the appearances through a telescope, nor presume to assert that the dark and dusky colour which is seen in the Moon's surface may not proceed from a kind of matter or soil that reflects less light than from the other regions; but, in

reasoning from analogy, it is not very probable, that the Moon should be destitute of oceans or seas, which such an opinion seems to exclude, or at least to leave unaccounted for; or that similar accommodations or conveniences should great Author of Nature for

not have been provided by the robe are furnished with.

her inhabitants, if she has any

doubt it), as the people of our

we can see no reason to

How far the equilibrium can physically be maintained, without a certain portion of water as well as land, is a consideration not entirely to be overlooked; and as the distance from the Sun is comparatively the same, which can only be more or less by the small semi-diameter of the Moon's orbit, or about 240,000 miles from the Earth, the same reasons seem naturally to follow, for the Moon's being supplied with the same advantages.

But these observations are subject to one remark, which is, that the length of their day is equal to our lunar month, for all that time is included in one revolution round her axis. Her days and months, therefore, will constantly be of the same length, or almost fifteen of our days each. The year will be exactly the same with our's; because she must go round the Sun, in company with, or as an attendant upon the Earth, in the same time as that does. Her difference of seasons will be much less than on our Earth, having only a small inclination of her axis, of six degrees and a half; so that the variation between her summer's heat and her winter's cold, must be comparatively inconsiderable. Hence, there will be only thirteen degrees of torrid zone on the parts most opposite to the Sun, and thirteen degrees of frigid zone on those contiguous to her poles; which consequently must leave 77° for what we should call her temperate zones, both in the north and south parts from her equator. In what respects this great length of day and night may be convenient, or otherwise, to the inhabitants there, cannot become us to determine. Yet it can scarcely be deemed presumptuous to

hazard a conjecture, that there may be something physically different in their frame and constitution, so as to be adapted to their state and condition.

A difference of opinion has been advanced as to the We know Moon's possessing an atmosphere similar to ours. it was the opinion of Sir Isaac Newton, that she has one. But against this it has been observed, that the fixed stars are never obscured in the Moon's appulse to them; but are seen, on the contrary, to disappear instantaneously, at the very moment of their occultation, and in the same manner to recover their light on their appearance on the other side. Nor let any one suppose that subsequent astronomers, by differing in opinion in some instances from the sentiments and reasonings of that great luminary of learning, are to be censured as wishing to depreciate his doctrines. However great, it would be too much to conclude that he was in every respect fallible; and, however comprehensible his rational faculties and the powers of his mind, we may assure ourselves, that, in the minuter matters of conjecture, he would have met a variation of opinion with a becoming condescension to the sentiments of others, though conviction might not have followed. This observation will apply no less forcibly to some other parts of my present subject, where, in various views, the opinions and reasonings of others have been sometimes introduced, and at other times my own remarks have been given, on different branches of the science. Yet, basest of the base must be the ingratitude of those who will attempt, notwithstanding these minuter variations, to detract from the veneration due to the memory of either a Newton or a Kepler.

To the Editor of the Monthly Correspondent.

SIR,

K

OF all the varieties of violent death to which the condition of the universe exposes us, or which the ingenious malice of

mankind has invented; there is none from which the imagination recoils with such extreme horror, as from that of gradual suffocation. The heaviest inflictions of bodily pain, "Luke's iron crown, and Damien's bed of steel," shrink from the comparison. Weighed in the scale with the terrible burying alive of the Roman vestal that had been found guilty of incontinence, what are they but comparatively puny sufferings? the vengance of mere Tyros in the art of cruelty? in pain the mind is passive, or soon sinks under it if excessive; but in slow suffocation, there is the dreadful struggle of the will, the incessant unavailing effort; the more incessant and violent, the more it is felt to be unavailing.

Without having recourse to the experience of those who have been recovered from drowning, or other modes of strangulation, by a summary process, I believe no one that has dabbled much in the water in his school days, as most of us I suppose have done, will ever forget the horror of that initiatory ceremony, or ordeal, which is usually performed upon the tender novice, the first time of his bathing, which is termed ducking. The appellation is ludicrous, and the sports of children may seem to have no very terrible tendency; but the poor devil who has been ducked in early life, i. e. held with his head downward by violence in the water, till the strength or patience of his companions was exhausted, will have a tolerable notion through life of the comforts of gradual strangulation.

Whether or not my own recollections are more vivid on that subject, or that I have constitutionally a greater repugnance to that mode of dying than my neighbours, I am often shocked at a custom which many good kind of people practise, and see practised every day, with approbation; I mean the custom of stifling infants, not between two feather beds professedly, but what is almost as bad, between the bed or cradle clothes, out of pure love and kindness. In most famimilies, when an infant is put to sleep, the air is excluded

with as much care as if it were some element to which the new-born babe was not "native and endued," as Shakespeare phrases it. His little face is muffled up with the rest of his small person. He is laid on his back in the midst of the feathers, which rising up, are as a wall to him on this side and on that. The clothes naturally very soon rest upon his mouth. The very action of sucking, which, as symbolical to him of the first and closest instinct of life, he applies to every substance with which his young experience comes in contact, attracts the sheet further within his lips, and from a pledge of life and nutriment, becomes a mode of death. In this imbecile state, without the power or sense to extricate himself, behold him laid craving in vain for that nourishment of free respiration, which is no less necessary for his well being, than the friendly juices with which nature has supplied the kindly maternal fountains for his sustenance.

We find every animal, even a sparrow, destroys the air it breathes in a surprisingly short time. No need to exhaust it by an air; only prevent access of fresh air, and the experiment will be complete. A frog will hop about very gaily without his heart, if it be your fancy to deprive him of it; but deny him fresh air, and he pushes off directly for the banks of the river Styx, there to croak his displeasure against the unkind usage of man.

Why is this all-vivifying principle considered as a viand too luxurious for the infant, which nature bestows a free boon upon frogs and sparrows?

When the man-child grows a little more acquainted with his own strength, he drives off the clothes, to the great annoyance of the good woman that attends him, who carefully replaces them, and pathetically bemoans the disuse of the good old custom of swaddling; by the help of which she could have kept down effectually the little struggling saucy probationer for breathing. Peace to the shade of the bizard Rousseau! to him the human generation is indebted for its