History and Literature of the Thermometer.—­The origin of the instrument is involved in a depth of obscurity considerably below zero; Pliny mentions its use by a celebrated brewer of Boeotia; we have succeeded, after several years’ painful research, in tracing the invention of the instrument to Mercury, who, being the god of thieves, very likely stole it from somebody else.  Of ancient writers, there are few except Hannibal (who used it on crossing the Alps) and Julius Caesar, that notice it.  Bacon treats of the instrument in his “Novum Organum;” from which Newton cabbaged his ideas in his “Principia,” in the most unprincipled manner.  The thermometer remained stationary till the time of Robinson Crusoe, who clearly suggested, if he did not invent the register, now universally adopted, which so nearly resembles his mode of measuring time by means of notched sticks.  Fahrenheit next took it in hand, and because his calculations were founded on a mistake, his scale is always adopted in England.  Raumur altered the system, and instead of giving the thermometer mercury, administered to it ‘cold without,’ or spirits of wine diluted with water.  Celsius followed, and advised a medium fluid, so that his thermometer is known as the centigrade.  De Lisle made such important improvements, that they have never been attended to; and Mr. Sex’s differential thermometer has given rise to considerably more than a half-dozen different opinions.  All these persons have written learnedly on the subject, blowing respectively hot or cold, as their tastes vary.  The most recent work is that by Professor Thompson—­a splendid octavo, hot-pressed, and just warm from the printer’s.  Though this writer disagrees with Raumur’s temperance principles, and uses the strongest spirit he can get, instead of mercury, we are assured that he is no relation whatever to Messrs. Thompson and Fearon of Holborn-hill.

Concluding Remarks and Description of Punch’s Thermometer.—­It must be candidly acknowledged by every unprejudiced mind, that the thermometer question has been most shamefully handled by the scientific world.  It is made an exclusive matter; they keep it all to themselves; they talk about Fahren_heit_ with the utmost coolness; of Raumur in un-understandable jargon, and fire whole volleys of words concerning the centigrade scale, till one’s head spins round with their inexplicable dissertations.  What is the use of these interminable technicalities to the world at large?  Do they enlighten the rheumatic as to how many coats they may put on, for the Midsummer days of this variable climate?  Do their barometers tell us when to take an umbrella, or when to leave it at home?  No.  Who, we further ask, knows how hot it is when the mercury stands at 120 deg., or how cold it is when opposite 32 deg. of Fahrenheit?  Only the initiated, a class of persons that can generally stand fire like salamanders, or make themselves comfortable in an ice-house.