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SUPPLEMENT TO THE

ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA.

SUPPLEMENT TO THE

FOURTH, FIFTH, AND SIXTH EDITIONS

OF THE

ENCYCLOPAEDIA BRITANNICA WITH PRELIMINARY DISSERTATIONS ON THE

HISTORY OF THE SCIENCES.

Sllugtrateii fig (Brntabimfr

VOLUME FIFTH.

EDINBURGH: PRINTED FOR ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE AND COMPANY, EDINBURGH ; AND HURST, ROBINSON, AND COMPANY, LONDON.

1824.

ADVERTISEMENT.

apology, I am afraid, is necessary for the length to which this Dissertation has already extended. My original design (as is well known to my friends) was to comprise in ten or twelve sheets all the preliminary matter which I was to contribute to this SUPPLEMENT. But my work grew insensibly under my hands, till it assumed a form which obliged me either to destroy all that I had written, or to continue my Historical Sketches on the same enlarged scale. In selecting the subjects on which I have chiefly dwelt, I have been guided by my own idea of their pre-eminent importance, when considered in connection with the present state of Philosophy in Europe. On some, which I have passed over unnoticed, it was impossible for me to touch, without a readier access to public libraries than I can command in this retirement. The same circumstance will, I trust, account, in the opinion of candid readers, for various other omissions in my performance. The time unavoidably spent in consulting, with critical care, the numerous Authors referred to in this and in the former part of my Discourse, has encroached so deeply, and to myself so painfully, on the leisure which I had destined for a different purpose, that, at my advanced years, I can entertain but a very faint expectation (though 1 do not altogether abandon the hope) of finishing my intended Sketch of the Progress of Ethical and Political Philosophy during the Eighteenth Century* An undertaking of a much earlier date has a prior and stronger claim on my attention. At all events, whatever may be wanting to complete my plan, it cannot be difficult for another hand to supply. An Outline is all that should be attempted on such a subject; and the field which it has to embrace will be found incomparably more interesting to most readers than that which has fallen under my review. SOME

Kinneil House, August

7, 1821.

ERRATA. 27, line eleventh from the bottom, for reflection read reflexion. 27, line eighth from the bottom, for reflection read reflexion. 45, line fifteenth from the bottom, for Tarquinus read Tarquinius. 79, fourteenth line from the top, for hand read hands. 90, last line but one, for insueti read insuetum. 134, second line from the top, after the full stop insert the reference to the foot note. 145, line twenty-fifth from the bottom, for Gottolb read Gottlob.

DISSERTATION FIRST EXHIBITING A GENERAL VIEW OF THE

PROGRESS OF METAPHYSICAL, ETHICAL, AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY, SINCE THE REVIVAL OF LETTERS IN EUROPE.

PART II.

BY DUGALD STEWART,

ESQ.

F. R. SS.

LOND. & EDIN.

HONORARY MEMBER OF THE IMPERIAL ACADEMY OF SCIENCES AT ST PETERSBURG; MEMBER OF THE ROYAL ACADEMIES OF BERLIN AND OF NAPLES ; OF THE AMERICAN SOCIETIES OF PHILADELPHIA AND OF BOSTON ; AND HONORARY MEMBER OF THE PHILOSOPHICAL SOCIETY OF CAMBRIDGE : FORMERLY PROFESSOR OF MORAL PHILOSOPHY IN THE UNIVERSITY OF EDINBURGH.

DISSERTATION FIRST.

PART II.

I

the farther prosecution of the plan of which I traced the outline in the Preface to the First Part of this Dissertation, I find it necessary to depart considerably from the arrangement which I adopted in treating of the Philosophy of the seventeenth century. During that period, the literary intercourse between the different nations of Europe was comparatively so slight, that it seemed advisable to consider, separately and successively, the progress of the mind in England, in France, and in Germany. But from the era at which we are now ai rived, the Republic of Letters may be justly understood to comprehend, not only these and other countries in their neighbourhood, but every region of the civilized earth. Disregarding, accordingly, all diversities of language and of geographical situation, I shall direct my attention to the intellectual progress of the species in general; enlarging, however, chiefly on the Philosophy of those parts of Europe, from whence the rays of science have, in modern times, diverged to the other quarters of the globe. I propose also, in consequence of the thickening crowd of useful authors, keeping pace in their numbers with the diffusion of knowledge and of liberality, to allot separate discourses to the history of Metaphysics, of Ethics, and of Politics; a distribution which, while it promises a more distinct and connected view of these different subjects, will furnish convenient resting-places, both to the writer and to the reader, and can scarcely fail to place, in a stronger and more concentrated light, whatever general conclusions may occur in the course of this survey. The foregoing considerations, combined with the narrow limits assigned to the sequel of my work, will sufficiently account for the contracted scale of some of the following N

DISS. I. PART II.

A

2

FIRST DISSERTATION.

sketches, when compared with the magnitude of the questions to which they relate, and the peculiar interest which they derive from their immediate influence on the opinions ot our own times. , In the case of Locke and Leibnitz, with whom the metaphysical history of the eighteenth century opens, I mean to allow myself a greater degree of latitude. The rank which I have assigned to both in my general plan seems to require, of course, a more ample space for their leading doctrines, as well as for those of some of their contemporaries and immediate successors, than I can spare for metaphysical systems of a more modern date ; and as the rudiments of the most important of these are to be found in the speculations either of one or of the other, I shall endeavour, by connecting with my review of their works, those longer and more abstract discussions which are necessary for the illustration of fundamental principles, to avoid, as far as possible, in the remaining part of my discourse, any tedious digressions into the thorny paths of scholastic controversy The critical remarks, accordingly, which I am now to offer on their philosophical writings, will, I trust, enable me to execute the very slight sketches which are to follow in a manner at once more easy to myself, and more satisfactory to the bulk of my readers. But what I have chiefly in view in these preliminary observations, is to correct certain misapprehensions concerning the opinions of Locke and of Leibnitz, which have misled (with very few exceptions) all the later historians who have treated of the literature of the eighteenth century. I have felt a more particular solicitude to vindicate the fame of Locke, not only against the censures of his opponents, but against the mistaken comments and eulogies of his admirers, both in England and on the Continent. Appeals to his authority are so frequent in the reasonings of all who have since canvassed the same subjects, that, without a precise idea of his distinguishing tenets, it is impossible to form a just estimate, either of the merits or demerits of his successors. In order to assist my readers in this previous study, I shall endeavour, as far as I can, to make Locke his own commentator; earnestly entreating them, before they proceed to the sequel or this dissertation, to collate carefully those scattered extracts from his works, which, in the following section, they will find brought into contact with each other, with a view to their mutual illustration. My own conviction, I confess, is, that the Essay on Human Under, standing has been much more generally applauded than read ; and if I could only flatter myself with the hope of drawing the attention of the public from the glosses of commentators to the author’s text, I should think that I had made a considerable step towards the correction of some radical and prevailing errors, which the supposed sanction of h.s name has hitherto sheltered from a free examination.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

3

PROGRESS OF METAPHYSICS DURING THE EIGHTEENTH CENTURY.

SECTION L Historical and Critical Review of the Philosophical Works of Locke and Leibnitz.

LOCKE.

entering on the subject of this section, it is proper to premise, that, although my design is to treat separately of Metaphysics, Ethics, and Politics, it will be impossible to keep these sciences wholly unmixed in the course of my reflections. They all run into each other by insensible gradations ; and they have all been happily united in the comprehensive speculations of some of the most distinguished writers of the eighteenth century. The connection between Metaphysics and Ethics is more peculiarly close ; the theory of Morals having furnished, ever since the time of Cud worth, several of the most BEFORE

abstruse questions which have been agitated concerning the general principles, both intellectual and active, of the human frame. The inseparable affinity, however, between the different branches of the Philosophy of the Mind, does not afford any argument against the arrangement which I have adopted. It only shows, that it cannot, in every instance, be rigorously adhered to. It shall be my aim to deviate from it as seldom, and as slightly, as the miscellaneous nature of my materials will permit. JOHN LOCKE, from the publication of whose Essay on Human Understanding a new era is to be dated in the History of Philosophy, was born at Wrington in Somersetshire, in 1632. Of his father nothing remarkable is recorded, but that he was a captain in the Parliament’s army during the civil wars ; a circumstance which, it may be presumed from the son’s political opinions, would not be regarded by him as a stain on the memory of his parent. In the earlier part of Mr Locke’s life, he prosecuted for some years, with great ardour, the study of medicine ; an art, however, which he never actually exercised as a profession. According to his friend Le Clerc, the delicacy of his constitution rendered this impossible. But, that his proficiency in the study was not inconsiderable, we have good evidence in the dedication prefixed to Dr Sydenham’s Observations on the History and Cure of Acute

FIRST DISSERTATION.

4 Diseases;1

where he boasts of the approbation bestowed on his METHOD by Mr John Locke, who (to borrow Sydenham’s own words) “ examined it to the bottom ; and who, if we consider his genius and penetrating and exact judgment, has scarce any superior, ^ and few equals, now living.”

The merit of this

METHOD,

therefore, which still continues

to be regarded as a model by the most competent judges, may be presumed to have belong3 ed in part to Mr Locke,2 — confirmation of what Bacon has-so sagaciously taught, concerning the dependence of all the sciences relating to the phenomena, either of Matter or of Mind, on principles and rules derived from the resources of a higher philosophy. On the other hand, no science could have been chosen, more happily calculated than Medicine, to prepare such a mind as that of Locke for the prosecution of those speculations which have immortalized his name ; the complicated and fugitive, and often equivocal phenomena of disease, requiring in the observer a far greater portion of discriminating sagacity, than those of Physics, strictly so called ; resembling, in this respect, much more nearly, the phenomena about which Metaphysics, Ethics, and Politics, are conversant. I have said, that the study of Medicine forms one of the best preparations for the study of Mind, to such an understanding as Locke's. To an understanding less comprehensive, and less cultivated by a liberal education, the effect of this study is likely to be similar to what we may trace in the works of Hartley, Darwin, and Cabanis ; to all of whom we may more or less apply the sarcasm of Cicero on Aristoxenus, the Musician, who attempted to explain the nature of the soul by comparing it to a Harmony ; Hie AB ARTI3 TTCIO suo NON RECESSIT. In Locke’s Essay, not a single passage occurs, savouring of the Anatomical Theatre, or of the Chemical Laboratory. In 1666, Mr Locke, then in his thirty-fifth year, formed an intimate acquaintance with Lord Ashley, afterwards Earl of Shaftesbury ; from which period a complete change took place, both in the direction of his studies, and in his habits of life. His attention appears to

1

Published in the year 1676.

- It-is remarked of Sydenham, by the late Dr John Gregory, “ That though full of hypothetical reasoning,

it had not the usual effect of making him less attentive to observation; and that his hypotheses seem to have sat so loosely about him, that either they did not influence his practice at all, or he could easily abandon them, whenever they would not bend to his experience.” This is precisely the idea of Locke concerning the true use of hypotheses. “ Hypotheses, if they are well made, are at least great helps to the memory, and often direct us to new discoveries.” Locke’s Works, Vol. IIL p* 81. See also some remarks on the same subject in one of his letters to Mr Molyneux. (The edition of Locke to which I uniformly refer, is that printed at London in 1812, in Ten Volumes 8vo.) 3 Tusc. Quaest. Lib. 1.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

have been then turned, for the first time, to political subjects ; and his place of residence transferred from the university to the metropolis. From London (a scene which gave him access to a society very different from what he had previously lived in ’) he occasionally passed over to the Continent, where he had an opportunity of profiting by the conversation of some of the most distinguished persons of his age. In the course of his foreign excursions, he visited France, Germany, and Holland ; but the last of these countries seems to have been his favourite place of residence ; the blessings which the people there enjoyed, under a government peculiarly favourable to civil and religious liberty, amply compensating, in his view, for what their uninviting territory wanted in point of scenery and of climate. In this respect, the coincidence between the taste of Locke and that of Descartes throws a pleasing light on the characters of both. The plan of the Essay on Human Understanding is said to have been formed as early as I67O ; but the various employments and avocations of the Author prevented him from finishing it till 1687, when he fortunately availed himself of the leisure which his exile in Holland afforded him, to complete his long meditated design. He returned to England soon after the Revolution, and published the first edition of his work in 1690 ; the busy and diversified scenes through which he had passed during its progress, having probably contributed, not less than the academical retirement in which he had spent his youth, to enhance its peculiar and characteristical merits. Of the circumstances which gave occasion to this great and memorable undertaking, the following interesting account is given in the Prefatory Epistle to the Reader. “ Five or six friends, meeting at my chamber, and discoursing on a subject very remote from this, found themselves quickly at a stand, by the difficulties that rose on every side. After we had a while puzzled ourselves, without coming any nearer a resolution of those doubts which perplexed us, it came into my thoughts that we took a wrong course, and that, before we set ourselves upon inquiries of that nature, it was necessary to examine our own abilities, and see what objects our understandings were, or were not, fitted to deal with. This I proposed to the company, who all readily assented, and thereupon it was agreed, that this should be our first inquiry. Some hasty and undigested thoughts on a subject I had never before considered, which I set down against our next meeting, gave the first entrance into this discourse, which having been thus begun by chance, was continued by entreaty ; written by incoherent parcels, and, after long intervals of neglect, resumed again

^ illiers Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Halifax, are particularly mentioned among those who were delighted with his conversation.

6

FIRST DISSERTATION.

as my humour or occasions permitted; and at last in retirement, where an attendance on my health gave me leisure, it was brought into that order thou now seest it.” Mr Locke afterwards informs us, that “ when he first put pen to paper, he thought all he should have to say on this matter would have been contained in one sheet, but that the farther he went the larger prospect he had ;—new discoveries still leading him on, till his book grew insensibly to the bulk it now appears in.” On comparing the Essay on Human Understanding with the foregoing account of its origin and progress, it is curious to observe, that it is the fourth and last book alone which bears directly on the author’s principal object. In this book, it is further remarkable, that there are few, if any, references to the preceding parts of the Essay ; insomuch that it might have been published separately, without being less intelligible than it is. Hence, it seems not unreasonable to conjecture, that it was the/rs* part of the work in the order of composition, and that it contains those leading and fundamental thoughts which offered themselves to the author’s mind, when he first began to reflect on the friendly conversation which gave rise to his philosophical researches. The inquiries in the first and second books, which are of a much more abstract, as well as scholastic, nature, than the sequel of the work, probably opened gradually on the author’s mind, in proportion as he studied his subject with a closer and more continued attention. They relate chiefly to the origin and to the technical classification of our ideas, frequently branching out into collateral, and sometimes into digressive, discussions, without much regard to method or connection. The third book (by far the most important of the whole), where the nature, the use, and the abuse of language are so clearly and happily illustrated, seems, fiom Locke s ow n account, to have been a sort oi after-thought; and the two excellent chapters on the Association of Ideas and on Enthusiasm (the former of which has contributed, as much as any thing else in Locke’s writings, to the subsequent progress of Metaphysical Philosophy) were printed, for the first time, in the fourth edition of the Essay. I would not be understood, by these remarks, to undervalue the two first books.

All

that I have said amounts to this, that the subjects which they treat of are seldom susceptible of any practical application to the conduct of the understanding ; and that the author has adopted a new phraseology of his own, where, in some instances, he might have much more clearly conveyed his meaning without any departure from the ordinary forms of speech. But although these considerations render the two first books inferior in point of general utility to the two last, they do not materially detract from their merit, as a precious accession to the theory of the Human Mind. On the contrary, I do not hesitate to consider them as the richest contribution of well-observed and well-described facts, which

FIRST DISSERTATION.

7

was ever bequeathed to this branch of science by a single individual; and as the indisputable (though not always acknowledged) source of some of the most refined conclusions, with respect to the intellectual phenomena, which have been since brought to light by succeeding inquirers. After the details given by Locke himself, of the circumstances in which his Essay was begun and completed ; more especially, after what he has stated of the “ discontinued way of WTiting,” imposed on him by the avocations of a busy and unsettled life, it cannot be thought surprising, that so very little of method should appear in the disposition of his materials ; or that the opinions which, on different occasions, he has pronounced on the same subject, should not always seem perfectly steady and consistent. In these last cases, however, I am inclined to think that the inconsistencies, if duly reflected on, would be found rather apparent than real. It is but seldom, that a writer possessed of the powerful and upright mind of Locke, can reasonably be suspected of stating propositions in direct contradiction to each other. The presumption is, that, in each of these propositions, there is a mixture of truth, and that the error lies chiefly in the unqualified manner in which the truth is stated ; proper allowances not being made, during the fervour of composition, for the partial survey taken of the objects from a particular point of view. Perhaps it would not be going too far to assert, that most of the seeming contradictions which occur in authors animated with a sincere love of truth, might be fairly accounted for by the different aspects which the same object presented to them upon different occasions. In reading such authors, accordingly, when we meet with discordant expressions, instead of indulging ourselves in the captiousness of verbal criticism, it would better become us carefully and candidly to collate the questionable passages; and to study so to reconcile them by judicious modifications and corrections, as to render the oversights and mistakes of our illustrious guides subservient to the precision and soundness of our own conclusions. In the case of Locke, it must be owned, that this is not always an easy task, as the limitations of some of his most exceptionable propositions are to be collected, not from the context, but from different and widely separated parts of his Essay.1

1

That Locke himself was sensible that some of his expressions required explanation, and was anxious that his opinions should be judged of rather from the general tone and spirit of his work, than from detached and isolated propositions, may be inferred from a passage in one of his notes, where he replies to the animadversions of one of his antagonists (the Reverend Mr Lowde), who had accused him of calling in question the immutability of moral distinctions. cc But (says Locke) the good man does well, and as becomes his calling, to be watchful in such points, and to take the alarm, even at expressions, which, standing alone by themselves, might sound ill, and be suspected.” (Locke’s Works, Vol. II. p. 93. Note.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

8

In a work thus composed by snatches (to borrow a phrase of the author’s), it was not to be expected, that he should be able accurately to draw the line between his own ideas, and the hints for which he was indebted to others. To those who are well acquainted with his speculations, it must appear evident, that he had studied diligently the metaphysical writings both of Hobbes and of Gassendi; and that he was no stranger to the Essays of Montaigne, to the philosophical works of Bacon, or to Malebranche’s Inquiry af ter Truth} That he was familiarly conversant with the Cartesian system may be presumed from what we are told by his biographer, that it was this which first inspired him with a disgust at the jargon of the schools, and led him into that train of thinking which he afterwards prosecuted so successfully. I do not, however, recollect that he' has anywhere in his Essay mentioned the name of any one of these authors.1 write, he found the result of his youthful reading so completely identified with the fruits of his subsequent reflections, that it was impossible for him to attempt a separation of the one from the other ; and that he was thus occasionally led to mistake the treasures of memory for those of invention. That this was really the case, may be farther presumed from the peculiar and original cast of his phraseology, which, though in general careless and unpolished, has always the merit of that characteristical unity and raciness of style, which demonstrate, that, while he was writing, he conceived himself to be drawing only from his own resources. With respect to his style, it may be further observed, that it resembles that of a well educated and well informed man of the world, rather than of a recluse student who had made an object of the art of composition. It everywhere abounds with colloquial expressions, which he had probably caught by the ear from those whom he considered as models of good conversation ; and hence, though it now seems somewhat antiquated, and not altogether suited to the dignity of the subject, it may be presumed to have contributed its share towards his great object of turning the thoughts of his contemporaries to logical and metaphysical inquiries. The author of the Characteristics, who will not be accused of an un-

1

Mr Addison has remarked, that Malebranche had the start of Locke, by several years, in his notions on the subject of DuratioTU (Spectator, No, 94.) Some other coincidences, not less remarkable, might be easily pointed out in the opinions of the English and of the French philosopher. 2 The name of Hobbes occurs in Mr Locke’s Reply to the Bishop of Worcester. See the Notes on his Essay, b. iv. c. 3. It is curious that he classes Hobbes and Spinoka together, as writers of the same stamp ; and that he disclaims any intimate acquaintance with the works of either. “ I am not so well read in Hobbes and Spinoza as to be able to say what were their opinions in this matter, but possibly there be those who will think your Lordship’s authority of more use than those, justly decried names,” &c. &c,. 8

FIRST DISSERTATION.

9

due partiality for Locke, acknowledges, in strong terms, the favourable reception which his book had met with among the higher classes. “ I am not sorry, however,” says Shaftesbury, to one of his correspondents, “ that I lent you Locke’s Essay, a book that may as well qualify men for business and the world, as for the sciences and a university. No one has done more towards the recalling of philosophy from barbarity, into use and practice of the world, and into the company of the better and politer sort, who might well be ashamed of it in its other dress. No one has opened a better and clearer way to reasoning.” 1 In a passage of one of Warburton’s letters to Hurd, which I had occasion to quote in the first part of this Dissertation, it is stated as a fact, that, “ when Locke first published his Essay, he had neither followers nor admirers, and hardly a single approver.” I cannot help suspecting very strongly the correctness of this assertion, not only from the flattering terms in which the Essay is mentioned by Shaftesbury in the foregoing quotation, and from the frequent allusions to its doctrines by Addison and other popular writers of the same period, but from the unexampled sale of the book, during the fourteen years which elapsed between its publication and Locke’s death. Four editions were printed in the space of ten years, and three others must have appeared in the space of the next four 5 a reference being made to the sixth edition by the author himself, in the epistle to the reader, prefixed to all the subsequent impressions. A copy of the thirteenth edition, printed as early as lyiS, is now lying before me. So rapid and so extensive a circulation of a work, on a subject so little within the reach of common readers, is the best proof of the established popularity of the author’s name, and of the respect generally entertained for his talents and his opinions. That the Essay on Human Understanding should have excited some alarm in the University of Oxford, was no more than the author had reason to expect from his boldness as a philosophical reformer; from his avowed zeal in the cause of liberty, both civil and religious ; from the suspected orthodoxy of his Theological Creed ; and (it is but candid to add) from the apparent coincidence of his ethical doctrines with those of Hobbes.2 It is more difficult to account for the long continuance, in that illustrious seat of learning, of the prejudice against the logic of Locke (by far the most valuable part of his work), and of that partiality for the logic of Aristotle, of which Locke has so fully exposed the futility. In the University of Cambridge, on the other hand, the Essay on Human Understand1

See Shaftesbury’s First Letter to a Student at the University. u It was proposed at a meeting of the heads of houses of the University of Oxford, to censure and discourage the reading of Locke’s Essay; and, after various debates among themselves, it was concluded, that each head of a house should endeavour to prevent its being read in his college, without coming to any public censure.” (See Des Maizeaux’s note on a letter from Locke to Collins. Locke’s Works, Vol. X.p. 284.) DISS. I. PART II.

B

10

FIRST DISSERTATION.

was, for many years, regarded with a reverence approaching to idolatry : and to the authority of some distinguished persons connected with that learned body may be tiaced (as will afterwards appear) the origin of the greater part of the extravagancies w7hich, towards the close of the last century, were grafted on Locke’s errors, by the disciples of Hartley, of Law, of Priestley, of Tooke, and of Darwin.1 To a person who now reads with attention and candour the work in question, it is much more easy to enter into the prejudices which at first opposed themselves to its complete success, than to conceive how it should so soon have acquired its just celebiity. Something, I suspect, must be ascribed to the political importance which Mr Locke had pieviously acquired as the champion of religious toleration ; as the great apostle of the Revolution ; and as the intrepid opposer of a tyranny which had been recently oveithiown. In Scotland, where the liberal constitution of the universities has been always peculiarly favourable to the diffusion of a free and eclectic spirit of inquiry, the philosophy of Locke seems very early to have struck its roots, deeply and permanently, into a kindly and congenial soil. Nor were the errors of this great man implicitly adopted from a blind reverence for his name. The works of Descartes still continued to be studied and admired ; and the combined systems of the English and the French metaphysicians served, in many respects, to correct what was faulty, and to supply what was deficient, in either. As to the ethical principles of Locke, where they appear to lean towards Hobbism, a powerful antidote against them was already prepared in the Treatise De Jure Belli et Bacis, which was then universally and deservedly regarded in this country as the best introduction that had yet appeared to the study of moral science. If Scotland, at this period, produced no eminent authors in these branches of learning, it was not from want of erudition or of talents 5 nor yet from the narrowness of mind incident to the inhabitants of remote and insulated regions j but from the almost insuperable difficulty of writing in a dialect, which imposed upon an author the double task of at once acquiring a new language, and of unlearning his own.^

ing

1 I have taken notice, with due praise, in the former part of this discourse, of the metaphysical speculations of John Smith/Henry More, and Ralph Cudworth; all of them members and ornaments of the University of'Cambridge about the middle of the seventeenth century. They were deeply conversant in the Platonic Philosophy, and applied it with great success in combating the Materialists and Necessitarians of thentimes. They carried, indeed, some of their Platonic notions to an excess bordering on mysticism, and may, perhaps, have contributed to give a bias to some of their academical successors towards the opposite extreme. A very pleasing and interesting account of the characters of these amiable and ingenious men, and of the spirit of their philosophy, is given by Burnet in the History of his Own Times. To the credit of Smith and of More it may be added, that they were among the first in England to pei* ceive and to acknowledge the merits of the Cartesian Metaphysics. 2 Note (A.)

FinST DISSERTATION.

11

The success of Locke’s Essay, in some parts of the Continent, was equally remarkable ; owing, no doubt, in the first instance, to the very accurate translation of it into the French language by Coste, and to the eagerness with which every thing proceeding from the author of the Letters on Toleration1 may be presumed to have been read by the multitude of learned and enlightened refugees, whom the revocation of the edict of Nantz forced to seek an asylum in Protestant countries. In Holland, where Locke was personally known to the most distinguished characters, both literary and political, his work was read and praised by a discerning few, with all the partiality of friendship but it does not seem to have made its way into the schools till a period considerably later. The doctrines of Descartes, at first so vehemently opposed in that country, were now so completely triumphant, both among philosophers and divines,3 that it was difficult for a new reformer to obtain a hearing. The case was very nearly similar in Germany, where Leibnitz (who always speaks 1

The principle of religious toleration was at that time very imperfectly admitted, even by those philosophers who were the most zealously attached to the cause of civil liberty. The great Scottish lawyer and statesman, Lord Stair (himself no mean philosopher, and, like Locke, a warm partizan of the Revolution), seems evidently to have regretted the impunity which Spinoza had experienced in Holland, and Hobbes in England. “ Execrabilis ille Athens Spinosa adeo impudens est, ut affirmet omnia esse absolute necessaria, et nihil quod est, fuit, aut erit, aliter fieri potuisse, in quo omnes superiores Atheos excessit, aperte negans omnem Deitatem, nihilque praeter potentias naturae agnoscens. “ Vaninus Deitatem non aperte negavit, sed causam illius prodidit, in tractatu quern edidit, argumenta pro Dei existentia tanquam futilia et vana rejiciens, adferendo contrarias omnes rationes per modum objectionum, casque prosequendo ut indissolubiles videantur; postea tamen larvam exuit, et atheismum clare professus est, ET JUSTISSIME IN INCLYTA URBE THOLOSA DAMNATUS EST ET CREMATUS.^ “ Horrendus Hobbesius tertius erat atheismi promotor, qui omnia principia moralia et politica subvertit, eorumque loco naturalem vim et humana pacta, ut prifna principia moralitatis, societatis, et politic! regiminis substituit: NEC TAMEN SPINOSA AUT HOBBIUS, QUAMVIS IN REGIONIBUS REFORMATIS VIXERINT ET MORTUI SINT, NEDUM EXEMPLA FACTI SUNT IN ATHEORUM TERROREM, UT NE VEL ULLAM PAS NAM SENSE-

RiNT*”—Physiol. Nova Experimentalis (Lugd. Batav. 1666), pp. 16, 172 Among those whose society Locke chiefly cultivated while in Holland, was the celebrated Le Clerc, the author of the Bibliotheque Universelle, and the Bibliolheque Choisie, besides many other learned and ingenious publications. He appears to have been warmly attached to Locke, and embraced the fundamental doctrines of his Essay without any slavish deference for his authority. Though he fixed his residence at Amsterdam, where he taught Philosophy and the Belles Lettres, he was a native of Geneva, where he also received his academical education. He is, therefore, to be numbered with Locke’s Swiss disciples. I shall have occasion to speak of him more at length afterwards, when I come to mention his controversy with Bayle. At present, I shall only observe, that his Eloge on Locke was published in the Bibliotheque Choisie (Annee 1705), Tom. VI.; and that some important remarks on the Essay on Human Understanding (particularly on the chapter on Power) are to be found in the 12th Vol. of the same work (Annee 1707). 3 Quamvis hide sectae (Cartesian®) initio acriter se opponerent Theologi et Philosophi Belgae, in Academiis tamen eorum hodie (1727), vix alia, quam Cartesiana principia inculcantur. (Heineccii Elem. Hist. Philosophy In Gravesande’s Introductio ad PhUosophiam, published in 1736, the name of Locke is not once mentioned. It is probable that this last author was partly influenced by his admiration for Leibnitz, whom he servilely followed even in his physical errors.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

12

coldly of Locke’s Essay)1 was then looked up to as the great oracle in every branch of learning and of science. If I am not mistaken, it was in Switzerland, where (as Gibbon observes) “ the intermixture of sects had rendered the clergy acute and learned on controversial topics,” that Locke’s real merits were first appreciated on the Continent with a discriminating impartiality. In Crousaz’s Treatise of Logic (a book which, if not distinguished by originality of genius, is at least strongly marked with the sound and unprejudiced judgment of the author), we everywhere trace the influence of Locke’s doctrines ; and, at the same time, the effects of the Cartesian Metaphysics, in limiting those hasty expressions of Locke, which have been so often misinterpreted by his followers." Nor do 1

In Lockio sunt quaedam particularia non male exposita, sed in summa longe aberravit a janua, nec naturam mentis veritatisque intellexit.—Leibnitz. Op. Tom. V. p. 355. Ed. Dutens. M. Locke avoit de la subtilite et de 1’addresse, et quelque espece de metaphysique superficielle qu’il savoit relever. {Ibid. pp. 11, 12.) Heineccius, a native of Saxony, in a Sketch of the History of Philosophy, printed in 1728, omits altogether the name of Locke in his enumeration of the logical and metaphysical writers of modern Europe. In a passage of his logic, where the same author treats of clear and obscure, adequate and inadequate ideas (a subject on which little or nothing of any value had been advanced before Locke), he observes, in a note, “ Debemus hanc Doctrinam Leibnitio, eamque deinde sequutus est illust. Wolfius.” 2 Of the Essay on Human Understanding Crousaz speaks in the following terms: “ Clarissimi, et merito celebratissimi Lockii de Intellectu Humano eximium opus, et auctore suo dignissimum, logicis utilissimis semper annumerabitur.” (Praefat.) If Pope had ever looked into this Treatise, he could not have committed so gross a mistake, as to introduce the author into the Dunciad, among Locke’s Aristotelian opponents ; a distinction for which Crousaz was probably indebted to his acute strictures on those passages in the Essay on Man, which seem favourable to fatalism. Prompt at the call, around the goddess roll Broad hats, and hoods, and caps, a sable shoal; Thick and more thick the black blockade extends, A hundred head of Aristotle’s friends. Nor wer’t thou, Isis ! wanting to the day (Though Christ-chuich long kept prudishly away). Each staunch Polemic, stubborn as a rock, Each fierce Logician, still expelling Locke, Came whip and spur, and dash’d through thin and thick On German Crousaz, and Dutch Burgersdyck.

Warburton, with his usual scurrility towards all Pope’s adversaries as well as his own, has called Crousaz a blundering Swiss; but a very different estimate of his merits has been formed by Gibbon, who seems to have studied his works much more carefully than the Right Reverend Commentator on the Dunciad. “ M. de Crousaz, the adversary of Bayle and Pope, is not distinguished by lively fancy or profound reflection ; and even in his own country, at the end of a few years, his name and writings are almost obliterated. But his Philosophy had been formed in the school of Locke, his Divinity in that of Limborch and Le Clerc; in a long and laborious life, several generations of pupils were taught to think, and even to ■write; his lessons rescued the Academy of Lausanne from Calvinistic prejudices; and he had the rare merit of diffusing a more liberal spirit among the people of the pays de Vaud.” (Gibbon’s Memoirs.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

13

Crousaz’s academical labours appear to have been less useful than his writings; if a judgment on this point may be formed from the sound philosophical principles which he diffused among a numerous race of pupils. One of these (M. Allamand), the friend and correspondent of Gibbon, deserves particularly to be noticed here, on account of two letters published in the posthumous works of that historian, containing a criticism on Locke’s argument against innate ideas, so very able and judicious, that it may still be read with advantage by many logicians of no small note in the learned world. Had these letters happened to have sooner attracted my attention, I should not have delayed so long to do this tardy justice to their merits. 1 I am not able to speak with confidence of the period at which Locke’s Essay began to attract public notice in France. Voltaire, in a letter to Horace Walpole, asserts, that he

In a subsequent passage Gibbon says, “ The logic of Crousaz had prepared me to engage with bis master Locke, and his antagonist Bayle; of whom the former may be used as a bridle, and the latter applied as a spur to the curiosity of a young philosopher.” (Ibid.) The following details (independently of their reference to Crousaz) are so interesting in themselves, and afford so strong a testimony to the utility of logical studies, when rationally conducted, that I am tempted to transcribe them. “ December 1755. In finishing this year, I must remark how favourable it was to my studies. In the space of eight months, I learned the principles of drawing ; made myself completely master of the French and Latin languages, with which I was very superficially acquainted before, and wrote and translated a great deal in both; read Cicero’s Epistles ad Familiares, his Brutus, all his Orations, his Dialogues de Amicitia et de Senectute; Terence twice, and Pliny’s Epistles. In French, Giannoni’s History of Naples, I’Abbe Banier’s Mythology, and M. Roehat’s Memoires sur la Suisse, and wrote a very ample relation of iny tour. I likewise began to study Greek, and went through the grammar. I began to make very large collections of what I read. But what I esteem most of all,—from the perusal and meditation of De Crousaz s logic, I not only understood the principles oi that science, but formed my mind to a habit of thinking and reasoning, I had no idea of before.” After all, I very readily grant, that Crousaz’s logic is chiefly to be regarded as the work of a sagacious and enlightened compiler; but even this (due allowance being made for the state of philosophy when it appeared) is no mean praise. “ Good sense (as Gibbon has very truly observed) is a quality of mind hardly less rare than genius.” 1 For some remarks of M. Allamand, which approach very near to Reid’s Objections to the Ideal Theory, See Note (B.) Of this extraordinary man Gibbon gives the following account in his Journal: “ C’est un ministre dans le Pays de Vaud, et un des plus beaux genies que je connoisse. II a voulu embrasser tons les genres; mais c est la Philosophic qu’il a le plus approfondi. Sur toutes les questions il s’est fait des systemes, ou du moins des argumens toujours originaux et toujours ingenieux. Ses idees sont fines et lumineuses, son expression heureuse et facile. Ou lui reproche avec raison trop de rafinement et de subtilite dans 1’esprit; trop de fierte, trop d ambition, et trop de violence dans le caractere. Cet homme, qui auroit pu eclairer ou troubler une nation, vit et mourra dans 1’obscurite.” It is of the same person that Gibbon sneeringly says (in the words of Vossius), o search after it; what improvements can be expected of this kind ? What greater ig it can e ope or m the moral sciences ? The subject part of mankind in most places might instead thereof, with Egypt, bondage expect Egyptian darkness, mere not the candle of the Lord set up by hmselfrn men s nnnds, rvfoch * is impossible for the breath or power of man wholly to extinguish:’ Vol. II. pp. 343, 344.

31

FIRST DISSERTATION. used, is connatural.

For what has birth or progress of the foetus out of the womb to do

in this case ?—the question is not about the time the ideas entered, or the moment that one body came out of the other ; but whether the constitution of man be such, that, being adult and grown up,1 at such a time, sooner or later (no matter when), the idea and sense of order, administration, and a God, will not infallibly, inevitably, necessarily spring up in him.” In this last remark Shaftesbury appears to me to place the question about innate ideas upon the right and only philosophical footing; and to afford a key to all the confusion running through Locke’s argument against their existence.

The sequel of the above quo-

tation is not less just and valuable—but I must not indulge myself in any farther extracts. It is sufficient to mention the perfect coincidence between the opinion of Shaftesbury, as here stated by himself, and that formerly quoted in the words of Locke 5 and, of consequence, the injustice of concluding, from some unguarded expressions of the latter, that there was, at bottom, any essential difference between their real sentiments. 2

1

Lord Shaftesbury should have said, u grown up to the possession and exercise of his reasoning powers.” I must, at the same time, again repeat, that the facts and reasonings contained in the introduction to Locke’s Essay go very far to account for the severity of Shaftesbury’s censures on this part of his work. Sir Isaac Newton himself, an intimate friend of Locke’s, appears, from a letter of his which I have read in his own hand-writing, to have felt precisely in the same manner with the author of the Characteristics. Such, at least, were his /fV^ impressions; although he afterwards requested, with a humility and candour worthy of himself, the forgiveness of Locke for this injustice done to his character. “ I beg your pardon (says he) for representing that you struck at the root of morality in a principle you laid down in your book of ideas, and designed to pursue in another book ; and that I took you for a Hobbist.” In the same letter Newton alludes to certain unfounded suspicions which he had been led to entertain of the propriety of Locke s conduct in some of their private concerns; adding, with an ingenuous and almost infantine simplicity, “ I was so much affected with this, that when one told me you was sickly and would not live, I answered, ’twere better if you were dead. I desire you to forgive me this uncharitableness.” The letter is subscribed, your most humble and most unfortunate servant, Is. Newton. * The rough draught of Mr Locke’s reply to these afflicting acknowledgments was kindly communicated to me by a friend some years ago. It is written with the magnanimity of a philosopher, and w ith the goodhumoured forbearance of a man of the world; and it breathes throughout so tender and so unaffected a veneration for the good as well as great qualities of the excellent person to whom it is addressed, as demonstrates at once the conscious integrity of the writer, and the superiority of his mind to the irritation of little passions. I know of nothing from Locke’s pen which does more honour to his temper and character ; and I introduce it with peculiar satisfaction, in connection with those strictures which truth has extorted from me on that part of his system which to the moralist stands most in need of explanation and apology. 2

MR LOCKE TO MR NEWTON. “ Sir, Oates, 5th October 93. “ I have been ever since I first knew you so kindly and sincerely your friend, and thought you so much mine, that I could not have believed what you tell me of yourself, had I had it from any body else. And * It is dated at the Bull in Shoreditch, London, Sejptemlcr 1693; and is addressed, For John Locke, Esq. at Sir Fra. Ma$ham's, Bart, at Oatei, in Essex.

FIRST DISSERTATION*

32

Under the title of Locke’s Metaphysical (or, to speak with more strict precision, his Logical') writings, may also be classed his tracts on Lducation, and on the Conduct of the Understanding.

These tracts are entirely of a practical nature, and were plainly intended

for a wider circle of readers than his Essay ; but they everywhere bear the strongest marks of the same zeal for extending the empire of Truth and of Reason, and may be justly regarded as parts of the same great design.1

It has been often remarked, that they

display less originality than might have been expected from so bold and powerful a thinker ; and, accordingly, both of them have long fallen into very general neglect.

It ought,

however, to be remembered, that, on the most important points discussed in them, new suggestions are not now to be looked for ; and that the great object of the reader should be, not to learn something which he never heard of before, but to learn, among the multi-

though I cannot but be mightily troubled that you should have had so many wrong and unjust thoughts of me, yet, next to the return of good offices, such as from a sincere good will I have ever done you, I receive your acknowledgment of the contrary as the kindest thing you could have done me, since it gives me hopes I have not lost a friend I so much valued. After what your letter expresses, I shall not need to say any thing to justify myself to you: I shall always think your own reflection on my carriage both to you and all mankind will sufficiently do that. Instead of that, give me leave to assure you, that I am more ready to forgive you than you can be to desire it; and I do it so freely and fully that I wish for nothing more than the opportunity to convince you that I truly love and esteem you ; and that I have still the same good will for you as if nothing of this had happened. To confirm this to you more fully, I should be glad to meet you anywhere, and the rather, because the conclusion of your letter makes me apprehend it would not be wholly useless to you. I shall always be ready to serve you to my utmost, in any way you shall like, and shall only need your commands or permission to do it. “ My book is going to press for a second edition ; and, though I can answer for the design with which I writ it, yet, since you have so opportunely given me notice of what you have said of it, I should take it as a favour if you would point out to me the places that gave occasion to that censure, that, by explaining myself better, I may avoid being mistaken by others, or unwillingly doing the least prejudice to truth or virtue. I am sure you are so much a friend to both, that, were you none to me, I could expect this from you. But I cannot doubt but you would do a great deal more than this for my sake, who, after all, have all the concern of a friend for you, wish you extremely well, and am, without compliment,” &c. &c. (For the preservation of this precious memorial of Mr Locke, the public is indebted to the descendants of his friend and relation the Lord Chancellor King, to whom his papers and library were bequeathed. The original is still in the possession of the present representative of that noble family ; for whose flattering permission to enrich my Dissertation with the above extracts, I feel the more grateful, as I have not the honour of being personally known to his Lordship.) 1 Mr Locke, it would appear, had once intended to publish his thoughts on the Conduct of the Understanding, as an additional chapter to his Essay. “ I have lately,” says he, in a letter to Mr Molyneux, Cf got a little leisure to think of some additions to my book against the next edition, and within these few days have fallen upon a subject that I know not how far it will lead me. I have written several pages on it, but the matter, the farther I go, opens the more upon me, and I cannot get sight of any end of it. The title of the chapter will be, Of the Conduct of the Understanding, which, if I shall pursue as far as I imagine it will reach, and as it deserves, will, I conclude, make the largest chapter of my Essay. (Locke s Works, Vol. IX. p. 407»)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

33

plicity of discordant precepts current in the world, which of them were sanctioned, and which reprobated by the judgment of Locke.

The candid and unreserved thoughts of

such a writer upon such subjects as Education, and the culture of the intellectual powers, possess an intrinsic value, which is not diminished by the consideration of their triteness. They not only serve to illustrate the peculiarities of the author’s own character and views, but, considered in a practical light, come recommended to us by all the additional weight of his discriminating experience.

In this point of view, the two tracts in question, but

more especially that on the Conduct of the Understanding, will always continue to be interesting manuals to such as are qualified to appreciate the mind from which they proceeded.

1

It must not, however, be concluded from the apparent triteness of some of Locke’s remarks, to the present generation of readers, that they were viewed in the same light by his own contemporaries.

On the contrary, Leibnitz speaks of the Treatise on Education

as a work of still greater merit than the Essay on Human Understanding.2

Nor will

this judgment be wondered at by those who, abstracting from the habits of thinking in which they have been reared, transport themselves in imagination to the state of Europe a hundred years ago.

How flat and nugatory seem now the cautions to parents about

watching over those associations on which the dread of spirits in the dark is founded! But how different was the case (even in Protestant countries) till a very recent period of the last century ! I have, on a former occasion, taken notice of the slow but (since the invention of printing) certain steps by which Truth makes its way in the world ; “ the discoveries, which, in one age, are confined to the studious and enlightened few, becoming, in the next, the established creed of the learned ; and, in the third, forming part of the elementary princi-

1

A similar remark may be extended to a letter from Locke to his friend Mr Samuel Bold, who had complained to him of the disadvantages he laboured under from a weakness of memory. It contains nothing but what might have come from the pen of one of Newberry’s authors; but with what additional interest do we read it, when considered as a comment by Locke on a suggestion of Bacon’s ! (Locke’s Works, Vol. X. p. 317.) It is a judicious reflection of Shenstone’s, that “ every single observation published by a man of genius, be it ever so trivial, should be esteemed of importance, because he speaks from his own impressions ; whereas common men publish common things, which they have perhaps gleaned from frivolous writers.” I know of few authors to whom this observation applies more forcibly and happily than to Locke, when he touches on the culture of the intellectual powers. His precepts, indeed, are not all equally sound; but they, in general, contain a large proportion of truth, and may always furnish to a speculative mind matter of useful meditation. 2 Leib. Op. Tom. VI. p. 226. DISS. I. PART II. E

FIRST DISSERTATION.

34 pies of education.’*

The harmony, in the meantime, which exists among truths of all de-

scriptions, tends perpetually, by blending them into one common mass, to increase the joint influence of the whole ; the contributions of individuals to this mass (to borrow the fine allusion of Middleton) “ resembling the drops of rain, which, falling separately into the water, mingle at once with the stream, and strengthen the general current.”

Hence

the ambition, so natural to weak minds, to distinguish themselves by paradoxical and extravagant opinions; for these, having no chance to incorporate themselves with the progressive reason of the species, are the more likely to immortalize the eccentricity of theii authors, and to furnish subjects of wonder to the common compilers of literary history. This ambition is the more general, as so little expence of genius is necessary for its gratification. less

“ Truth (as Mr Hume has well observed) is one thing, but errors are number-

and hence (he might have added) the difficulty of seizing the former, and the faci-

lity of swelling the number of the latter.

1

Having said so much in illustration of Locke’s philosophical merits, and in reply to the common charge against his metaphysical and ethical principles, it now only remains foi me to take notice of one or two defects in his intellectual character, which exhibit a stiong contrast to the general vigour of his mental powers. Among these defects, the most prominent is, the facility with which he listens to historical evidence, when it happens to favour his own conclusions.

M^any remarkable in-

stances of this occur in his long and rambling argument (somewhat in the style of Montaigne) against the existence of innate practical principles ; to which may be added, the degree of credit he appears to have given to the popular tales about mermaids, and to Sir William Temple’s idle story of Prince Maurice’s “ rational and intelligent parrot.” Strange ! that the same person who, in matters of reasoning, had divested himself, almost to a fault, of all reverence for the opinions of others, should have failed to perceive, that, of all the various sources of error, one of the most copious and fatal is an unreflecting faith in human testimony 1 1

Descartes has struck into nearly the same train of thinking with the above, but his remarks apply much better to the writings of Locke than to his own. cc Inexperience m apprit, que quoique mes opinions surprennent cl abord, parce qu elles sont fort differentes des vulgaires, cependant, apres qu’on les a comprises on les trouve si simples et si conformes au sens commun, qu’on cesse entierement de les admirer, et par la meme d en faire cas: parceque tel est le naturel des homines qu’ils n’estiment que les choses qui leur laissent d’admiration et qu ils ne possedent pas touta-fait. C’est ainsi que quoique la sante soit le plus grand de tous les biens qui concernent le corps, c est pourtant celui auquel nous faisons le moins de reflexion, et que nous goutons le moins. Or, la connoissance de la verite est comme la sante de Tame; lorsque on la possede on n y pense plus. (Lettres, Tome I. Lettre xliii.) 8

35

FIRST DISSERTATION.

The disrespect of Locke for the wisdom of antiquity, is another prejudice which has frequently given a wrong bias to his judgment.

The idolatry in which the Greek and

Koman writers were held by his immediate predecessors, although it may help to account for this weakness, cannot altogether excuse it in a man of so strong and enlarged an understanding.

Locke (as we are told by Dr Warton) “ affected to depreciate the ancients;

which circumstance (he adds), as I am informed from undoubted authority, was the source of perpetual discontent and dispute betwixt him and his pupil, Lord Shaftesbury; who, in many parts of the Characteristics, has ridiculed Locke’s philosophy, and endeavoured to represent him as a disciple of Hobbes.”

To those who are aware of the direct opposition

between the principles of Hobbes, of Montaigne, of Gassendi, and of the other minute philosophers with whom Locke sometimes seems unconsciously to unite his strength,—and the principles of Socrates, of Plato, of Cicero, and of all the soundest moralists, both of ancient and of modern times, the foregoing anecdote will serve at once to explain and to palliate the acrimony of some of Shaftesbury’s strictures on Locke’s Ethical paradoxes.

1

With this disposition of Locke to depreciate the ancients, was intimately connected that contempt which he everywhere expresses for the study of Eloquence, and that perversion of taste which led him to consider Blackmore as one of the first of our English poets.' That his own imagination was neither sterile nor torpid, appears sufficiently from the agreeable colouring and animation which it has not unfrequently imparted to his style : but this power of the mind he seems to have regarded with a peculiarly jealous and unfriendly eye ; confining his view exclusively to its occasional effects in misleading the judgment, and overlooking altogether the important purposes to which it is subservient, both in our intellectual and moral frame.

Hence, in all his writings, an inattention to

those more attractive aspects of the mind, the study of which (as Burke has well observed), “ while it communicates to the taste a sort of philosophical solidity, may be expected to reflect back on the severer sciences some of those graces and elegancies, without which the greatest proficiency in these sciences will always have the appearance of something illiberal.” To a certain hardness of character, not unfrequently united with an insensibility to the charms of poetry and of eloquence, may partly be ascribed the severe and forbidding spirit

1

Plebeii Philosophi (says Cicero) qui a Platone et Socrate, et ab ea familia dissident. “ All our English poets, except Milton,” says Molyneux in a letter to Locke, “ have been mere ballad-makers in comparison to Sir Richard Blackmore.” In reply to which Locke says, “ There is, I with pleasure find, a strange harmony throughout between your thoughts and mine.” (Locke’s Works, Vol. IX. pp. 423, 426.) 2

FIRST DISSERTATION.

36

which has suggested some of the maxims in his Tract on Education,1

He had been treat-

ed, himself, it would appear, with very little indulgence by his parents ; and probably was led by that filial veneration which he always expressed for their memory, to ascribe to the early habits of self-denial imposed on him by their ascetic system of ethics, the existence of those moral qualities which he owed to the regulating influence of his own reason in fostering his natural dispositions ; and which, under a gentler and more skilful culture, might have assumed a still more engaging and amiable form.

His father, who had served

in the Parliament’s army, seems to have retained through life that austerity of manners which characterized his puritanical associates ; and, notwithstanding the comparative enlargement and cultivation of Mr Locke’s mind, something of this hereditary leaven, if I am not mistaken, continued to operate upon many of his opinions and habits of thinking. If, in the Conduct of the Understanding, he trusted (as many have thought) too much to nature, and laid too little stress on logical rules, he certainly fell into the opposite extreme in everything connected with the culture of the heart; distrusting nature altogether, and placing his sole confidence in the effects of a systematical and vigilant discipline.

That

the great object of education is not to thwart and disturb, but to study the aim, and to facilitate the accomplishment of her beneficial arrangements, is a maxim, one should think, obvious to common sense; and yet it is only of late years that it has begun to gain ground even among philosophers.

It is but justice to Rousseau to acknowledge, that the

zeal and eloquence with which he has enforced it, go far to compensate the mischievous tendency of some of his other doctrines. To the same causes it was probably owing, that Locke has availed himself so little in his Conduct of the Understanding, of his own favourite doctrine of the Association of Ideas. He has been, indeed, at sufficient pains to warn parents and guardians of the mischievous consequences to be apprehended from this part of our constitution, if not diligently watched over in our infant years.

But he seems to have altogether overlooked the positive and im-

mense resources which might be derived from it, in the culture and amelioration, both of our intellectual and moral powers;—in strengthening (for instance), by early habits of right thinking, the authority of reason and of conscience ;—in blending with our best feelings the congenial and ennobling sympathies of taste and of fancy ;—and in identifying, with the first workings of the imagination, those pleasing views of the order of the universe,

1

Such, for example, as this, that “ a child should never be suffered to have what he craves, or so much ns spooks for, much less if he cries for it A maxim (as his correspondent Molyneux observes) which seems to bear hard on the tender spirits of children, and the natural affections of parents.” (Locke’s Works, Vol. IX.p. 319.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

37

which are so essentially necessary to human happiness.

A law of our nature, so mighty

and so extensive in its influence, was surely not given to man in vain ; and the fatal purchase which it has, in all ages, afforded to Machiavellian statesmen, and to political religionists, in carrying into effect their joint conspiracy against the improvement and welfare of our species, is the most decisive proof of the manifold uses to which it might be turned in the hands of instructors, well disposed and well qualified humbly to co-operate with the obvious and unerring purposes of Divine Wisdom. A more convenient opportunity will afterwards occur for taking some notice of Locke’s writings on Money and Trade, and on the Principles of Government.

They appear to

me to connect less naturally and closely with the literary history of the times when they appeared, than with the systematical views which were opened on the same subjects about fifty years afterwards, by some speculative politicians in France and in England.

I shall,

therefore, delay any remarks on them which I have to offer, till we arrive at the period, when the questions to which they relate began everywhere to attract the attention of the learned world, and to be discussed on those general principles of expediency and equity, which form the basis of the modern science of Political Economy.

With respect to his me-

rits as a logical and metaphysical reformer, enough has been already said for this introductory section : but I shall have occasion, more than once, to recur to them in the following pages, when I come to review those later theories, of which the germs or rudiments may be distinctly traced in his works ; and of which he is, therefore, entitled to divide the praise with such of his successors as have reared to maturity the prolific seeds scattered by his hand,

1

SECTION II. Continuation of the Review of Locke and Leibnitz, LEIBNITZ. Independently of the pre-eminent rank, which the versatile talents, and the universal learning of Leibnitz entitle him to hold among the illustrious men who adorned the Continent of Europe during the eighteenth century, there are other considerations which have

‘ And yet with what modesty does Locke speak of his own pretensions as a Philosopher ! ff In an age that produces such masters as the great Huygenius and the imcomparable Mr Newton, it is ambition enough to be employed as an underlabourer in clearing the ground a little, and removing some of the rubbish that lies in the way to knowledge.” (Essay on Human Understanding. Epistle to the Reader.) See Note (F.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

38

determined me to unite his name with that of Locke, in fixing the commencement of the period, on the history of which I am now to enter.

The school of which he was the

founder was strongly discriminated from that of Locke, by the general spirit of its doctrines ; and to this school a large proportion of the metaphysicians, and also of the mathematicians of Germany, Holland, France, and Italy, have, ever since his time, had a decided leaning. On the fundamental question, indeed, concerning the Origin of our Knowledge, the philosophers of the Continent (with the exception of the Germans, and a few eminent individuals in other countries) have, in general, sided with Locke, or rather with Gassendi ; but, in most other instances, a partiality for the opinions, and a deference for the authority of Leibnitz, may be traced in their speculations, both on metaphysical and physical subjects. Hence a striking contrast between the characteristical features of the continental philosophy, and those of the contemporary systems which have succeeded each other in our own island ; the great proportion of our most noted writers, notwithstanding the opposition of their sentiments on particular points, having either attached themselves, or professed to attach themselves, to the method of inquiry recommended and exemplified by Locke. But the circumstance which chiefly induced me to assign to Leibnitz so prominent a place in this historical sketch, is the extraordinary influence of his industry and zeal, in uniting, by a mutual communication of intellectual lights and of moral sympathies, the most powerful and leading minds scattered over Christendom.

Some preliminary steps towards

such an union had been already taken by Wallis in England, and by Mersenne in France ; but the literary commerce, of which they were the centres, was confined almost exclusively to Mathematics and to Physics ; while the comprehensive correspondence of Leibnitz extended alike to every pursuit interesting to man, either as a speculative or as an active being.

From this time forward, accordingly, the history of philosophy involves, in a far

greater degree than at any former period, the general history of the human mind ; and we shall find, in our attempts to trace its farther progress, our attention more and more irresistibly withdrawn from local details to more enlarged views of the globe which we inhabit. A striking change in this literary commerce among nations took place, at least in the western parts of Europe, before the death of Leibnitz ; but, during the remainder of the last century, it continued to proceed with an accelerated rapidity over the whole face of the civilized world.

A multitude of causes, undoubtedly, conspired to produce it; but I know

of no individual whose name is better entitled, than that of Leibnitz, to mark the era of its commencement.1

1 The following maxims of Leibnitz deserve the serious attention of all who have at heart the improvement of mankind:

FIRST DISSERTATION.

39

I have already, in treating of the philosophy of Locke, said enough, and perhaps more than enough, of the opinion of Leibnitz concerning the origin of our knowledge. Although expressed in a different phraseology, it agrees in the most essential points with the innate ideas of the Cartesians; but it approaches still more nearly to some of the mystical speculations of Plato.

The very exact coincidence between the language of Leibnitz

on this question, and that of his contemporary Cudworth, whose mind, like his own, was deeply tinctured with the Platonic Metaphysics, is not unworthy of notice here, as an historical fact; and it is the only remark on this part of his system which I mean to add at present to those in the preceding history. “ The seeds of our acquired knowledge,” says Leibnitz, “ or, in other words, our ideas, and the eternal truths which are derived from them, are contained in the mind itself ; nor is this wonderful, since we know by our own consciousness, that we possess within ourselves the ideas of existence, of unity, of substance, of action, and other ideas of a similar nature.”

To the same purpose, we are told by Cudworth, that “ the mind contains

in itself virtually (as the future plant or tree is contained in the seed) general notions of all things which unfold and discover themselves as occasions invite, and proper circumstances occur.” The metaphysical theories, to the establishment of which Leibnitz chiefly directed the force of his genius, are the doctrine of Pre-established Harmony ; and the scheme of Optimism, as new modelled by himself.

On neither of these heads will it be necessary for me

long to detain my readers. 1. According to the system of Pre-established Harmony, the human mind and human body are two independent but constantly correspondent machines

adjusted to each other

like two unconnected clocks, so constructed, that, at the same instant, the one should point the hour, and the other strike it.

Of this system the following summary and illustration

are given by Leibnitz himself, in his Essay entitled Theodiccea : I cannot help coming into this notion, that God created the soul in such manner at first, that it should represent within itself all the simultaneous changes in the body; and that he has made the body also in such manner, as that it must of itself do what the soul wills

So that the laws which make the thoughts of the soul follow each other in regular

“ On trouve dans le monde plusieurs personnes bien intentionnees ; mais le mal est, qu’elles ne sentendent point, et ne travaillent point de concert. S’il y avoit moyen de trouver une espece de glu pour les eunir, on feroit quelque chose. Le mal est souvent que les gens de bien ont quelques caprices ou opinions particulieres, qui font qu’ils sont contraires entreux L’esprit sectaire consiste proprement dans cette pretention de vouloir que les autres se reglent sur nos maximes, au lieu qu’on se devroit contenter de voir qu'on aille au but principal.” (Leib. Op. Tom. I. p. 740.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

40

succession, must produce images which shall be coincident with the impressions made by external objects upon our organs of sense; while the laws by which the motions of the body follow each other, are likewise so coincident with the thoughts of the soul, as to give to our volitions and actions the very same appeal ance, as if the latter were really the natural and the necessary consequences of the former.”

(Leib. Op. I. p. 163.)

Upon an-

other occasion he observes, that “ everything goes on in the soul as if it had no body, and that everything goes on in the body as if it had no soul.”

{Ibid. II. p. 44.)

To convey his meaning still more fully, Leibnitz borrows from Mr Jaquelot1 a comparison, which, whatever may be thought of its justness, must be at least allowed some merit in point of ingenuity.

“ Suppose that an intelligent and powerful being, who knew, before-

hand, every particular thing that I should order my footman to do to-morrow, should make a machine to resemble my footman exactly, and punctually to perform, all day, whatever I directed.

On this supposition, would not my will, in issuing all the details of my orders,

remain, in every respect, in the same circumstances as before ? And would not my machinefootman, in performing his different movements, have the appearance of acting only in obedience to my commands ?”

The inference to be drawn from this comparison is, that the

movements of my body have no direct dependence whatever on the volitions of my mind, any more than the actions of my machine-footman would have on the words issuing from The same inference is to be extended to the relation which the impressions lips. made on my different senses bear to the co-existent perceptions arising in my mind.

The

impressions and perceptions have no mutual connection, resembling that of physical causes with their effects ; but the one series of events is made to correspond invariably with the other, in consequence of an eternal harmony between them, pre-established by their common Creator. ' From this outline of the scheme of Pre-established Harmony, it is manifest, that it took its rise from the very same train of thinking which produced Malebranche s docti ine of Occasional Causes.

The authors of both theories saw clearly the impossibility of tra-

cing the mode in which mind acts on body, or body on mind ; and hence were led rashly to conclude, that the connection or union which seems to exist between them is not i eal, but apparent.

The inferences, however, which they drew from this common principle

were directly opposite ; Malebranche maintaining, that the communication between mind and body was carried on by the immediate and incessant agency of the Deity; while Leibnitz conceived, that the agency of God was employed only in the original contrivance and i Author of a book entitled Conformite de la Foi avec la Raison.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

41

mutual adjustment of the two machines;—all the subsequent phenomena of each, being the necessary results of its own independent mechanism, and, at the same time, the progressive evolutions of a comprehensive design, harmonizing the laws of the one with those of the other. Of these two opposite hypotheses, that of Leibnitz is by far the more unphilosophical and untenable.

The chief objection to the doctrine of occasional causes is, that it pre-

sumes to decide upon a question of which human reason is altogether incompetent to judge ;—our ignorance of the mode in which matter acts upon mind, or mind upon matter, furnishing not the shadow of a proof that the one may not act directly and immediately on the other, in some way incomprehensible by our faculties.1

But the doctrine of

1

The mutual action (or, as it was called in the schools), the mutual influence (influxus) of soul and body, was, till the time oi Descartes, the prevailing hypothesis, both among the learned and the vulgar. The reality of this influx, if not positively denied by Descartes, was at least mentioned by him as a subject of doubt j but by Malebranche and Leibnitz it was confidently rejected as absurd and impossible. (See their works Gravesande, who had a very strong leaning towards the doctrines of Leibnitz, had yet the good sense to perceive the inconclusiveness of his reasoning in this particular instance, and states in opposition to it the following sound and decisive remarks: “ Non concipio, quomodo mens in corpus agere possit; non etiam video, quomodo ex motu nervi perceptio sequatur; non tamen inde sequi mihi apparet, omnem influxum esse rejiciendum. Substantiae incognitae sunt. Jam vidimus naturam mentis nos latere; scimus hanc esse aliquid, quod ideas habet, has confert, &c. sed ignoramus quid sit subjectum, cui hae proprietates conveniant. Hoc idem de corpore dicimus; est extensum, impenetrabile, &c. sed quid est quod habet hasce proprietates ? Nulla nobis via aperta est, qua ad hanc cognitionem pervenire possimus. Inde concludimus, multa nos latere, quae proprietates mentis et corporis spectant. Invicta demonstratione constat, non mentem in corpus, neque hoc in illam agere, ut corpus in corpus agit; sed mihi non videtur inde concludi posse, omnem influxum esse impossibilem. “ Motu suo corpus non agit in aliud corpus, sine resistente; sed an non actio, omnino diversa, et cujus ideam non habemus, in aliam substantiam dari possit, et ita tamen, ut causa effectui respondeat, in re aded obseura, determinare non ausim. Difficile certe est influxum negare, quando exacte perpendimus, quomodo in minimis quae mens percipit, relatio detur cum agitationibus in corpore, et quomodo hujus motus cum mentis determinationibus conveniant. Attendo ad ilia quae medici, et anatomici, nos de his docent. Nihil, ergo, de systemate influxus determine, praeter hoc, mihi nondum hujus impossibilitatem satis clare demonstratam esse ViAevV’—^Introductio ad Philosophiam.) See Note (G.) With respect to the manner in which the intercourse between Mind and Matter is carried on, a very rash assertion escaped Mr Locke in the first edition of his Essay. “ The next thing to be considered is, how bodies produce ideas in us, and that is manifestly by impulse, the only may which we can conceive bodies operate in." {Essay, B. II. ch. viii. § 11.) In the course of Locke s controversial discussions with the Bishop of Worcester, he afterwards became fully sensible of this important oversight; and he had the candour to acknowledge his error in the following terms : “ Tis true, I have said, that bodies operate by impulse, and nothing else. And so I thought when I writ it, and can yet conceive no other way of their operations. But I am since convinced, by the judicious Mr Newton’s incomparable book, that it is too bold a presumption to limit God’s power in this DISS. I. PART II. F

FIRST DISSERTATION.

42

Pre-established Harmony, besides being equally liable to this objection, labours under the additional disadvantage of involving a perplexed and totally inconsistent conception of the nature of Mechanism /—an inconsistency, by the way, with which all those philosophers are justly chargeable, who imagine that, by likening the universe to a machine, they get rid of the necessity of admitting the constant agency of powers essentially different from the known qualities of matter.

The word Mechanism properly expresses a combination of

natural powers to produce a certain effect.

When such a combination is successful, a ma-

chine, once set a going, will sometimes continue to perform its office for a considerable time, without requiring the interposition of the artist:

And hence we are led to con-

clude, that the case may perhaps be similar with respect to the universe, when once put into motion by the Deity.

This idea Leibnitz carried so sar as to exclude the supposition

of any subsequent agency in the first contriver and mover, excepting in the case of a miracle.

But the falseness of the analogy appears from this, that the moving force in every

machine is some natural power, such as gravity or elasticity and, consequently, the very idea of mechanism assumes the existence of those active powers, of which it is the professed object of a mechanical theory of the universe to give an explanation.

Whether,

therefore, with Malebranche, we resolve every effect into the immediate agency of God, or suppose, with the great majority of Newtonians, that he employs the instrumentality of second causes to accomplish his purposes, we are equally forced to admit with Bacon, the necessity not only of a first contriver and mover, but of his constant and efficient concurrence (either immediately or mediately) in carrying his design into execution: “ Opus (says Bacon) quod operatur Beus a primordio usque ad finemP In what I have now said I have confined myself to the idea of Mechanism as it applies to the material universe; for, as to this word, when applied by Leibnitz to the mind, which he calls a Spiritual Automaton, I confess myself quite unable to annex a meaning to it: I shall not, therefore, offer any remarks on this part of his system.1

point by my narrow conceptions. ****** And, therefore, in the next edition of my book, I will take care to have that passage rectified.” It is a circumstance that can only be accounted for by the variety of Mr Locke’s other pursuits, that in all the later editions of the Essay which have fallen in my way, the proposition in question has been allowed to remain as it originally stood. 1 Absurd as the hypothesis of a Pre-established Harmony may now appear, not many years have elapsed since it was the prevailing, or rather universal creed, among the philosophers of Germany. “ II fut un temps” (says the celebrated Euler) “ ou le systeme de 1’harmonie pre-etablie etoit tellement en vogue dans toute TAllemagne, que ceux qui en doutoient, passoient pour des ignorans, ou des esprits bornes.” {Letires de M. Euler d une Princesse d’Allemagne, 83c Lettre.) It would be amusing to reckon up the succession of metaphysical creeds which have been since swallowed with the same implicit faith by this learned

FIRST DISSERTATION.

43

To these visionary speculations of Leibnitz, a strong and instructive contrast is exhibited in the philosophy of Locke; a philosophy, the main object of which is less to enlarge our knowledge, than to make us sensible of our ignorance; or (as the author himself expresses it) “ to prevail with the busy mind of man to be cautious in meddling with things exceeding its comprehension ; to stop when it is at the utmost extent of its tether; and to sit down in a quiet ignorance of those things, which, upon examination, are found to be beyond the reach of our capacities.”

“ My right hand writes,” says Locke, in another

part of his Essay, “ whilst my left hand is still. the other ?

What causes rest in one, and motion in

Nothing but my will, a thought of my mind ; my thought only changing, my

right hand rests, and the left hand moves.

This is matter of fact •which cannot be denied.

Explain this and make it intelligible, and then the next step will be to understand Creatlon

In the mcantlme

> it: is an overvaluing ourselves, to reduce all to the narrow measure of our capacities; and to conclude all things impossible to be done, whose man-

ner of doing exceeds our comprehension If you do not understand the operations of your own finite Mind, that thinking thing within you, do not deem it strange that you cannot comprehend the operations of that eternal infinite Mind, who made and governs all things, and whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain.”1

(Vol. II. pp. 249, 250.)

This contrast between the philosophical.charaeters of Locke and of Leibnitz is the more deserving of notice, as something of the same sort has ever since continued to mark and to discriminate the metaphysical researches of the English and of the German schools. Various exceptions to this remark may, no doubt, be mentioned; but these exceptions wi

be found of trifling moment, when compared with the indisputable extent of its ge&

neral application.

The theory of pre-established harmony led, by a natural and obvious transition, to the scheme of Optimism.

As it represented all events, both in the physical and moral

branCheS f judgment) profound and ^ inventive nation. l^nentl'trofouml °

knowled

«‘> where imagination has no influence over the

vie'Jofttdemontr IITT™ ^ ^ ^ °f L0Cke'S Philos°Ph* wording to the author’s own PrefiXed t0 the is a passage of the h 00W ^, tW° ^ m Human The one of Eccles,astes f > which, from the place it occupies in the front of his work may be lxp7 “ “ «d - the most important moral to be drawn from W ’spl£ do herthat is wit^T n0t ^ ^ °f ^ ^ nOT h0W the S™ in the womb of eVel th U kn WeSt not the orks of Go dnnn Polieucte foment le commencement rnais ses contemporains n’en sent pas. LeCui, tet Hora^ ^ ^ ^^^^ .ip chaine brillante qui reumt notre htteratuie actuelle de b , . . , •it • ytV • mais autour de ces points lumineux regne encore une nuit profonde ; leur ec a es

tions. see a slight but masterly historical sketch of the Trench Theatre, y i. u

)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

59

of error in all the other sciences ; and which, when practically applied to the concerns of life, may be regarded as an infallible symptom of an understanding better fitted for the subtle contentions of the schools, than for those average estimates of what is expedient and practicable in the conduct of affairs, which form the chief elements of political sagacity and of moral wisdom.

1

If on these two celebrated principles of Leibnitz, I have enlarged at greater length than may appear to some of my readers to be necessary, I must remind them, 15’^, Of the illustration they afford of what Locke has so forcibly urged with respect to the danger of adopting, upon the faith of reasonings a priori, metaphysical conclusions concerning the laws by which the universe is governed : °2d/i/, Of the proof they exhibit of the strong bias of the human mind, even in the present advanced stage of experimental knowledge, to grasp at general maxims, without a careful examination of the grounds on which they rest; and of that less frequent, but not less unfortunate bias, which has led some of our most eminent mathematicians to transfer to sciences, resting ultimately on an appeal to facts, those habits of thinking which have been formed amidst the hypothetical abstractions of pure geometry : Lastly, Of the light they throw on the mighty influence which the name and authority of Leibnitz has, for more than a century past, exercised over the strongest and acutest understandings in the most enlightened countries of Europe.

It would be improper to close these reflections on the philosophical speculations of Leibnitz, without taking some notice of his very ingenious and original thoughts on the etymological study of languages, considered as a guide to our conclusions concerning the origin and migrations of different tribes of our species.

These thoughts were published in

1710, in the Memoirs of the Berlin Academy; and form the. first article of the first

1

Locke has fallen- into a train of thought very similar to that of Bonnet, concerning the Scale of Beings; but has expressed himself with far greater caution;—stating it modestly as an inference deduced from an induction of particulars, not as the result of any abstract or metaphysical principle. (See Locke’s Works, Vol. III. p. 101.) In one instance, indeed, he avails himself of an allusion, which, at first sight, may appear to favour the extension of the mathematical Law of Continuity to the works of creation • but it is evident, from the context, that he meant this allusion merely as a popular illustration of a fact in Natural History; not as the rigorous enunciation of a theorem applicable alike to all truths, mathematical, physical, and moral. ff It is a hard matter to say where sensible and rational begin, and where insensible and irrational end; and who is there quick-sighted enough to determine precisely, which is the lowest species of living things, and which is the first of those who have no life ? Things, as far as we can observe, lessen and augment, as the quantity does in a regular cone, where, though there be a manifest odds betwixt the bigness of the diameter at a remote distance, yet the difference between the upper and under, where they touch one another, is hardly discernible.” (Ibid.) See some Reflections on this speculation of Locke’s in the Spectator, No. 519.

FIRST DISSERTATION►

60

volume of that justly celebrated collection.

I do not recollect any author of an earlier

date, who seems to have been completely aware of the important consequences to which the prosecution of this inquiry is likely to lead j nor, indeed, was much progress made in it by any of Leibnitz’s successors, till towards the end of the last century; when it became a favourite object of pursuit to some very learned and ingenious men, both in France, Germany, and England.

Now, however, when our knowledge of the globe, and

of its inhabitants, is so wonderfully enlarged by commerce, and by conquest; and when so great advances have been made in the acquisition of languages, the names of which, till very lately, were unheard of in this quarter of the worldthere is every reason to hope for a series of farther discoveries, strengthening progressively, by the multiplication of their mutual points of contact, the common evidence of their joint results; and tending more and more to dissipate the darkness in which the primeval history of our race is involved.

It is a field, of which only detached corners have hitherto been explored ; and

in which, it may be confidently presumed, that unthought of treasures still lie hid, to reward sooner or later the researches of our posterity.1 My present subject does not lead me to speak of the mathematical and physical researches, which have associated so closely the name of Leibnitz with that of Newton, in the history of modern science ; of the inexhaustible treasures of his erudition, both classical and scholastic ; of his vast and manifold contributions towards the elucidation of German antiquities and of Roman jurisprudence; or of those theological controversies, in which, while he combated with one hand the enemies of revelation, he defended, with the other, the orthodoxy of his own dogmas against the profoundest and most learned divines of Europe.

Nor

would I have digressed so far as to allude here to these particulars, were it not for the unparalleled example they display, of what a vigorous and versatile genius, seconded by habits of persevering industry, may accomplish, within the short span of human life. Even the relaxations with which he was accustomed to fill up his moments of leisure, partook of the general character of his more serious engagements.

By early and long habit, he had ac-

quired a singular facility in the composition of Latin verses; and he seems to have delighted in loading his muse with new fetters of his own contrivance, in addition to those imposed by the laws of classical prosody.8

The number, besides, of his literary correspondents

' A remaTkiue instance of this is mentioned by himself in one of his letter, « Annos natus tredeeim una die trecentos versus hexametros effudi, sine elisione omnes, quod hoc fieri facile posse forte a rma sem. (Lrib. 0P. Tom. V. p. 304.) He also amused himself occasionally with writing verses in German and in French.

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was immense; including all that was most illustrious in Europe : and the rich materials everywhere scattered over his letters are sufficient of themselves to show, that his amusements consisted rather in a change of objects, than in a suspension of his mental activity. Yet while we admire these stupendous monuments of his intellectual energy, we must not forget (if I may borrow the language of Gibbon) that “ even the powers of Leibnitz were dissipated by the multiplicity of his pursuits.

He attempted more than he could finish ;

he designed more than he could execute ; his imagination was too easily satisfied with a bold and rapid glance on the subject which he was impatient to leave ; and he may be compared to those heroes whose empire has been lost in the ambition of universal conquest.”

1

From some expressions which Leibnitz has occasionally dropped, I think it probable, that he himself became sensible, as he advanced in life, that his time might have been more profitably employed, had his studies been more confined in their aim. “ If the whole earth (he has observed on one occasion) had continued to be of one language and of one speech, human life might be considered as extended beyond its present term, by the addition of all that part of it which is devoted to the acquisition of dead and foreign tongues.

Many

other branches of knowledge, too, may, in this respect, be classed with the languages ; such as Positive Laws, Ceremonies, the Styles of Courts, and a great proportion of what is called critical erudition*

The utility of all these arises merely from opinion $ nor is there

to be found, in the innumerable volumes that have been written to illustrate them, a hundredth part, which contains anything subservient to the happiness or improvement of mankind.” The most instructive lesson, however, to be drawn from the history of Leibnitz, is the incompetency of the most splendid gifts of the understanding, to advance essentially the interests either of Metaphysical or of Ethical Science, unless accompanied with that rare devotion to truth, which may be regarded, if not as the basis, at least as one of the most indispensable elements, of moral genius. The chief attraction to the study of philosophy, in his mind, seems to have been (what many French critics have considered as a chief source of the charms of the imitative arts) the pride of conquering difficulties : a feature of his character which he had probably in his own eye, when he remarked (not without some degree of conscious vanity), as a peculiarity in the turn or cast of his intellect, that to him “ all difficult

1

May I presume to remark farther, that the native powers of Leibnitz’s mind, astonishing and preternatural as they certainly were, seem sometimes oppressed and overlaid under the weight of his still more astonishing erudition ? The influence of his scholastic reading is more peculiarly apparent in warping his judgment, and clouding his reason, on all questions connected with Metaphysical Theology.

first dissertation.

62

things were easy, and all easy things difficult.,,

1

Hence the disregard manifested in his

writings to the simple and obvious conclusions of expeiience and common sense ; and the perpetual effort to unriddle mysteries over which an impenetrable veil is drawn.

“ Scili-

cet sublime et erectum ingenium, pulchritudinem ac speciem excelsas magnaeque gloiiie vehementius quam caute appetebat.” logy does not equally apply to him.

It is to be regretted, that the sequel of this fine eu“ Mox mitigavit ratio et aetas; retinuitque, quod

est difficiUimunn, et in sapientia modum.”

2

How happily does this last expiession cha-

racterize the temperate wisdom of Locke, when contrasted with that towering, but impotent ambition, which, in the Theories of Optimism and of Pre-established Harmony, seemed to realize the fabled revolt of the giants against the sovereignty of the gods! After all, a similarity may be traced between these two great men in one intellectual weakness common to both ; a facility in the admission of facts, stamped sufficiently (as we should ?iow think) by their own intrinsic evidence, with the marks of incredibility.

The

observation has been often made with respect to Locke; but it would be difficult to find in Locke’s writings, any thing so absurd as an account gravely transmitted by Leibnitz to the Abbd de St Pierre, and by him communicated to the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris, of a dog who spoke.3

No person liberally educated could, I believe, be found at

present in any Protestant country of Christendom, capable of such credulity.

By what

causes so extraordinary a revolution in the minds of men has been effected, within the short space of a hundred years, I must not here stop to inquire.

Much, I apprehend,

must be ascribed to our enlarged knowledge of nature, and more particularly to those scientific voyages and travels which have annihilated so many of the prodigies which exercised the wonder and subdued the reason of our ancestors.

But, in whatever manner the

revolution is to be explained, there can be no doubt that this growing disposition to weigh scrupulously the probability of alleged/^ against the faith due to the testimonies brought to attest them, and, even in some cases, against the apparent evidence of our own senses, enters largely and essentially into the composition of that philosophical

or temper,

which so strongly distinguishes the eighteenth century from all those which preceded it.

It

is no small consolation to reflect, that some important maxims of good sense have been thus familiarized to the most ordinary understandings, which, at so very recent a period, failed in producing their due effect on two of the most powerful minds in Europe. 1

“ Sentio paucos esse mei characteris, et omnia facilia mihi difficilia, omnia contra difficilia mihi facilia esse.”—Leib. Op. Tom. A I. p. 302. 2 Tacitus, Agric. 3 See Note (N.) 4 11 See Note (O.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

63

On leviewing the foregoing paragraphs, I am almost tempted to retract part of what I ha\ewiitten, when I reflect on the benefits which the world has derived even from the errors of Leibnitz.

It has been well and justly said, that “every desideratum is an imper-

fect discoveryto which it may be added, that every new problem which is started, and still more every attempt, however abortive, towards its solution, strikes out a new path, which must sooner or later lead to the truth.

If the problem be solvible, a solution will in

due time be obtained: If insolvible, it will soon be abandoned as hopeless by general consent; and the legitimate field of scientific research will become more fertile, in proportion as a more accurate survey of its boundaries adapts it better to the limited resources of the cultivators. In this point of view, what individual in modern times can be compared to Leibnitz! To how many of those researches, which still usefully employ the talents and industry of the learned, did he not point out and open the way !

From how many more did he not

warn the wise to withhold their curiosity, by his bold and fruitless attempts to burst the barriers of the invisible world! The best ehge of Leibnitz is furnished by the literary history of the eighteenth century

a history which, whoever takes the pains to compare with his works, and with his epis-

tolary correspondence, will find reason to doubt whether, at the singular era when he appeared, he could have more accelerated the advancement of knowledge by the concentration of his studies, than he has actually done by the universality of his aims; and whether he does not alford one of the few instances to which the words of the poet may literally be 3

applied : Si non errasset, fecerat ille minus.”

1

SECTION III. Of the Metaphysical Speculations of Newton and Clarke.—Digression with respect to the \fS e™

S inoza

P

'

Collins and Jonathan Edwards.—Anxiety of both to reconcile

sitartans from their ’views.2 The foregoing review of the philosophical writings of Locke and of Leibnitz naturally cads our attention, in the next place, to those of our illustrious countrymen Newton and

1

See Note (P.)

P anhad a marked 1 opinions have on the subsequent history of philoauli?:ho^ ve hrrCet U and "“l general influence ^ nT„n?ha

FIRST DISSERTATION.

64;

Clarke; the former of whom has exhibited, in his Principia and Optics, the most perfect exemplifications which have yet appeared, of the cautious logic recommended by Bacon and Locke ; while the other, in defending against the assaults of Le.bn.tz the metaphysica principles on which the Newtonian philosophy proceeds, has been led, at the same time, to vindicate the authority of various other truths, of still higher importance, and more general interest.

„

,

.

. i

The chief subjects of dispute between Leibnitz and Clarke, so ar as t e prmcip the Newtonian philosophy are concerned, have been long ago settled, to the e^at.sfaction of the learned world.

The monads, and the plenum, and the pre-established har-

mony of Leibnitz, already rank, in the public estimation, with the vortices of Descartes, and the plastic nature of Cudworth ; while the theory of gravdation prevails everywhere over all opposition ; and (as Mr Smith remarks) “ has advanced to the acquisition o most universal empire that was ever established in philosophy.”

On these points,

e eie-

fore I have only to refer my readers to the collection published by Dr Clarke, in 17 7, the controversial papers which passed between him and Leibnitz during the two preceding years; a correspondence equally curious and instructive; and which, it is to be lamen e , that the death of Leibnitz in 1716 prevented from being longer continued.'

I

. passing over a multitude of other names well worthy to be recorded in the annals of metaphysical only fine mention the name of own Boyle, to metaphysical whom the world is indebted beside science.’ AmoLg these^ I shall illustrations of his upon questions of the highest d some very acme «marks an^r y ^^^ which have added so much lustre to the “ f DcaI “d Sn “y 1 and, far above both, to that of Clarke. •

The re.arhs and itlustraHon,,

which I h° e iX to, are to be found in his Inymry into tke Vulgar Notion of Nature, and in h.s . whether and how, a Naturalist should consider Final Causes. Both of these tracts isp ay p which might have placed their author on a level with Descartes “d Locke had „„t ^‘e “ tion — him mm. st^ly to .other noticed, that some of I most strikiiigancnieautifid^in stances of design ^

^

Z pro’secution of drat branch of science to which their contemporary Locke was then beginning

mv.

the

. ZnTlXTofLetiU to M. Remond de Montmort, it appears that he considered Newton, and not

•

To

the English reader it is unnecessary ,0 observe,,ha. I aliude to the Sermons preached at the lecture founded by the Honour.

^ Thot instances, more especialiy, which are d,am from the anatomic al structure of animab, and the adaptation of their perceptive organs to the habits of life for which they are destined.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

71

I have already taken notice of Clarke’s defence of moral liberty in opposition to Leibnitz ; but soon after this controversy was brought to a conclusion by the death of his antagonist, he had to resume the same argument, in reply to his countryman, Anthony Collins ; who, following the footsteps of Hobbes, with logical talents not inferior to those of his master, and with a weight of personal character in his favour, to which his master had no pretensions;1 gave to the cause which he so warmly espoused, a degree of credit among sober and serious inquirers, which it had never before possessed in England.

I

have reserved, therefore, for this place, the few general reflections which I have to offer on this endless subject of controversy.

In stating these, I shall be the less anxious to con-

dense my thoughts, as I do not mean to return to the discussion in the sequel of this historical sketch.

Indeed, I do not know of anything that has been advanced by later writers,

in support of the scheme of necessity, of which the germ is not to be found in the inquiry of Collins. In order to enter completely into the motives which induced Clarke to take so zealous and so prominent a part in the dispute about Free Will, it is necessary to look back to the system of Spinoza ; an author, with whose peculiar opinions I have hitherto avoided to distract my readers’ attention.

At the time when he wrote, he does not appear to have made

ed by a Black or a Davy. The ultimate appeal, after all, must be made by every person to his own consciousness ; but when we have the experience of Locke on the one hand, and that of Priestley and Belsham on the other, the contrast is surely sufficient to induce every cautious inquirer to re-examine his feelings before he allows himself to listen to the statements of the latter in preference to that of the former. For the information of some of my readers, it may be proper to mention that it has of late become fashionable among a certain class of metaphysicians, boldly to assert, that the evidence of their consciousness is decidedly in favour of the scheme of necessity. But to return to Mr Locke. The only consideration on this subject which seems to have staggered him, was the difficulty of reconciling this opinion with the prescience of God. As to this theological difficulty, I have nothing to say at present. The only question which I consider as of any consequence, is the matter of fact; and, on this point, nothing can be more explicit and satisfactory than the words of Locke. In examining these, the attentive reader will be satisfied, that Locke’s declaration is not (as Priestley asserts) in favour of the Liberty of Spontaneity, but in favour of the Liberty of Indifference, for, as to the former, there seems to be no difficulty in reconciling it with the prescience of God. “ I own (says Mr Locke) freely to you the weakness of my understanding, that though it be unquestionable that there is omnipotence and omniscience in God our Maker, and though / cannot have a clearer perception of anything than that I am free ; yet I cannot make freedom in man consistent with omnipotence and omniscience in God, though I am as fully persuaded of both as of any truth I most firmly assent to; and therefore I have long since given off the consideration of that question; resolving all into this short conclusion, that, if it be possible for God to make a free agent, then man is free, though I see not the may of it.” 1 In speaking disrespectfully of the personal character of Hobbes, I allude to the base servility of his political principles, and to the suppleness with which he adapted them to the opposite interests of the three successive governments under which his literary life was spent. To his private virtues the most honourable testimony has been borne, both by his friends and by his enemies.

72

FIRST DISSERTATION.

many proselytes 5 the extravagant and alarming consequences in which his system terminated, serving with most persons as a sufficient antidote against it.

Clarke was probably

the first who perceived distinctly the logical accuracy of his reasoning ; and that, if the principles were admitted, it was impossible to resist the conclusions deduced from them.

1

It seems to have been the object both of Leibnitz and of Collins, to obviate the force of this indirect argument against the scheme of necessity, by attempting to reconcile it with the moral agency of man ; a task which, I think, it must be allowed, was much less ably and plausibly executed by the former than by the latter.

Convinced, on the other hand,

that Spinoza had reasoned from his premises much more rigorously than either Collins or Leibnitz, Clarke bent the whole force of his mind to demonstrate that these premises were false ; and, at the same time, to put incautious reasoners on their guard against the seducing sophistry of his antagonists, by showing, that there was no medium between admitting the free-agency of man, and of acquiescing in all the monstrous absurdities which the creed of Spinoza involves. Spinoza,2 it may be proper to mention, was an Amsterdam Jew of Portuguese extraction, who (with a view probably to gain a more favourable reception to his philosophical dogmas) withdrew himself from the sect in which he had been educated, and afterwards appears to have lived chiefly in the society of Christians ;0 without, however, making any public profession of the Christian faith, or even submitting to the ceremony of baptism. In his philosophical creed, he at first embraced the system of Descartes, and began his literary career with

1

Dr Reid’s opinion on this point coincides exactly with that of Clarke. See his Essays on the Active Powers of Man (p. 289, 4to Edition), where he pronounces the system of Spinoza to be “ the genuine, and the most tenable system of necessity.” 2 Born 1632, died 1677. It is observed by Bayle, that “ although Spinoza was the first who reduced Atheism to a system, and formed it into a body of doctrine, connected according to the method of geometricians, yet, in other respects, his opinion is not new, the substance of it being the same with that of several other philosophers, both ancient and modern, European and Eastern.” See his Diet. art. Spinoza, and the authorities in Note (A). It is asserted by a late German writer, that “ Spinoza has been little heard of in England, and not at all in France, and that he has been zealously defended and attacked by Germans alone.” The same writer informs us, that “ the philosophy of Leibnitz has been little studied in France, and not at all in England.” (Lectures 071 the History of Literature, by Fred. Schlegel. English trans. published at Edin. 1818. Vol. II. p. 243.) Is it possible that an author who pronounces so dogmatically upon the philosophy of England, should never have heard the name of Dr Clarke ? 3 The Synagogue were so indignant at his apostacy, that they pronounced against him their highest sentence of excommunication called Schammala. The form of the sentence may be found in the Treatise of Selden, De Jure Naturce et Gentium, Lib. IV. c. 7. It is a document of some curiosity, and will scarcely suffer by a comparison with the Popish form of excommunication recorded by Sterne. For some farther particulars with respect to Spinoza see Note (11).

FIRST DISSERTATION.

65

Although Newton does not appear to have devoted much of his time to Metaphysical researches, yet the general spirit of his physical investigations has had a great, though indirect, influence on the metaphysical studies of his successors.

It is justly and profoundly

remarked by Mr Hume, that “ while Newton seemed to draw off' the veil from some of the mysteries of nature, he showed, at the same time, the imperfections of the mechanical philosophy, and thereby restored her ultimate secrets to that obscurity in which they ever did, and ever will remain.,,

In this way, his discoveries have co-operated powerfully with

the reasonings of Locke in producing a general conviction of the inadequacy of our faculties to unriddle those sublime enigmas on which Descartes, Malebranche, and Leibnitz, had so recently wasted their strength, and which, in the ancient world, were regarded as the only fit objects of philosophical curiosity.

It is chiefly too since the time of Newton,

that the ontology and pneumatology of the dark ages have been abandoned for inquiries resting on the solid basis of experience and analogy ; and that philosophers have felt themselves emboldened by his astonishing discoveries concerning the more distant parts of the material universe, to argue from the known to the unknown parts of the moral world.

So

completely has the prediction been verified which he himself hazarded, in the form of a query, at the end of his Optics, that “ if natural philosophy should continue to be improved in its various branches, the bounds of moral philosophy would be enlarged also.,, How far the peculiar cast of Newton’s genius qualified him for prosecuting successfully the study of Mind, he has not afforded us sufficient data for judging; but such was the admiration with which his transcendent powers as a Mathematician and Natural Philosopher were universally regarded, that the slightest of his hints on other subjects have been eagerly seized upon as indisputable axioms, though sometimes with little other evidence in their favour but the supposed sanction of his authority.1

The part of his works, how-

evei, which chiefly led me to connect his name with that of Clarke, is a passage in the

Clarke, as his real antagonist in this controversy. “ M. Clarke, ou plutot M. Newton, dont M. Clarke soutient les dogmes, est en dispute avec moi sur la philosophic.” (Leib. Op. Tom. V. p. 33.) From another letter to the same correspondent we learn, that Leibnitz aimed at nothing less than the complete overthrow of the Newtonian philosophy; and that it was chiefly to his grand principle of the sufficient reason that he trusted for the accomplishment of this object. “ J’ai reduit 1’etat de notre dispute a ce grand axiome, que rien n’existe ou n’arrive sans qu'il y ait une raison suffisante, pourquoi il en est plutot ainsi qu’autrement. S’il continue a me le nier, ou en sera sa sincerite ? S'il me 1’accorde, adieu le vuide, les atomes, ei toute la philosophic de M. Newton.” (Ibid.) See also a letter from Leibnitz to M. des Maizeaux in the same volume of his works, p. 391 Witness Hartley’s Physiological Theory of the Mind, founded on a query in Newton’s Optics; and a long hst of theories in medicine, grafted on a hint thrown out in the same query, in the form of a modest conjecture. DISS, I. PART II. t

FIRST DISSERTATION.

66

Scholium annexed to his Principia,1 which may be considered as the germ of the celebrated argument a priori for the existence of God, which is commonly, though, I apprehend, not justly, regarded as the most important of all Clarke’s contributions to Metaphysical Philosophy.

I shall quote the passage in Newton’s own words, to the oracular con-

ciseness of which no English version can do justice. “ ^Eternus est et infinitus, omnipotens et omnisciens ; id est, durat ah aeterno in aeternum, et adest ab infinite in infinitum... . .Non est aeternitas et infinitas, sed aeternus et infinitus; non est duratio et spatium, sed durat et adest.

Durat semper et adest ubique,

et existendo semper et ubique durationem et spatium constituit.”

Proceeding on these

1

This scholium, it is to be observed, first appeared at the end of the second edition of the Principia, printed at Cambridge in 1713. The former edition, published at London in 1687, has no scholium annexed to it. From a passage, however, in a letter of Newton’s to Dr Bentley (dated 1692), it seems probable, that as far back, at least, as that period, he had thoughts of attempting a proof a priori of the existence of God. After some new illustrations, drawn from his own discoveries, of the common argument irom final causes, he thus concludes : “ There is yet another argument for a Deity, which I take to be a very strong one; but, till the principles on which it is grounded are better received, I think it more advisable to let it sleep.” {Four Letters from Sir I. Newton to Dr Bentley, p. 11. London, Dodsley, 1756.) It appears from this passage, that Newton had no intention, like his predecessor Descartes, to supersede, by any new argument of his own for the existence of God, the common one drawn from the consideration oifinal causes; and, therefore, nothing could be more uncandid than the following sarcasm pointed by Pope at the laudable attempts of his two countrymen to add to the evidence of this conclusion, by deducing it from other principles : “ Let others creep by timid steps and slow, On plain experience lay foundations low, By common sense to common knowledge bred, And last to Nature’s cause thro’ Nature led: We nobly take the high priori-road, And reason downwards till we doubt of God.” That Pope had Clarke in his eye when he wrote these lines, will not be doubted by those who recollect the various other occasions in which he has stepped out of his way, to vent an impotent spleen against this excellent person. “ Let Clarke live half his life the poor’s support, But let him live the other half at court.” And again: “ Even in an ornament its place remark; Nor in a hermitage set Dr Clarke in which last couplet there is a manifest allusion to the bust ol Clarke, placed in a hermitage by Queen Caroline, together with those of Newton, Boyle, Locke, and Wollaston. See some fine verses on these busts in a poem called the Grotto, by Matthew Green. 2 Thus translated by Dr Clarke, “ God is eternal and infinite, omnipotent and omniscient; that is, he endures from everlasting to everlasting, and is present from infinity to infinity. He is not eternity or infinity, but eternal and infinite. He is not duration or space, but he endures and is present* He endures always, and is present everywhere, and by existing always and everywhere, constitutes duration and space. (See Clarke’s Fourth Reply to Leibnitz.) 4

FIRST DISSERTATION.

67

principles, Dr Clarke argued, that, as immensity and eternity (which force themselves irresistibly on our belief as necessary existences, or, in other words, as existences of which the annihilation is impossible) are not siibstances, but attributes, the immense and eternal Being, whose attributes they are, must exist of necessity also.

The existence of God,

therefore, according to Clarke, is a truth that follows with demonstrative evidence from those conceptions of space and time which are inseparable from the human mind “ These (says Dr Reid) are the speculations of men of superior genius ; but whether they be as solid as they are sublime, or whether they be the wanderings of imagination in a region beyond the limits of the human understanding, 1 am at a loss to determine.,,

Af-

ter this candid acknowledgment from Dr Reid, I need not be ashamed to confess my own doubts and difficulties on the same question.1 But although the argument, as stated by Clarke, does not carry complete satisfaction to my mind, I think it must be granted that there is something peculiarly wonderful and overwhelming in those conceptions of immensity and eternity, which it is not less impossible to banish from our thoughts, than the consciousness of our own existence.

Nay, fur-

ther, I think that these conceptions are very intimately connected with the fundamental principles of Natural Religion.

For when once we have established, from the evidences

of design everywhere manifested around us, the existence of an intelligent and powerful cause, we are unavoidably led to apply to this cause our conceptions of immensity and eternity, and to conceive Him as filling the infinite extent of both with his presence and with his power.

Hence we associate with the idea of God those awful impressions which

are naturally produced by the idea of infinite space, and perhaps still more by the idea of endless duration.

Nor is this all.

It is from the immensity of space that the notion of

infinity is originally derived ; and it is hence that we transfer the expression, by a sort of metaphor, to other subjects.

When we speak, therefore, of infinite power, wisdom, and

goodness, our notions, if not wholly borrowed from space, are at least greatly aided by this analogy ; so that the conceptions of Immensity and Eternity, if they do not of themselves demonstrate the existence of God, yet necessarily enter into the ideas we form of his nature and attributes. To these various considerations it may be added, that the notion of necessary existence which we derive from the contemplation of Space and of Time, renders the same notion,

1

An argument substantially the same with this for the existence of God, is hinted at very distinctly by Cudworth, Intellect. System, Chap. V. sect. 3, 4. Also by Dr Henry More, Enchir. Metaph. Cap. 8. sect. 8. See Mosheim’s Trans, of Cudrvorth, Tom. II. p. 356.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

68

when applied to the Supreme Being, much more easy to be apprehended than it would otherwise be. It is not, therefore, surprising, that Newton and Clarke should have fallen into that train of thought which encouraged them to attempt a demonstration of the being of God from our conceptions of Immensity and Eternity; and still less is it to be wondered at, that, in pursuing this lofty argument, they should have soared into regions where they were lost in the clouds. I have said above, that Clarke’s demonstration seems to have been suggested to him by a passage in Newton’s Scholium,

It is, however, more than probable that he had himself

struck into a path very nearly approaching to it, at a much earlier period of his life.

The

following anecdote of his childhood, related, upon his own authority, by his learned and authentic, though, in many respects, weak and visionary biographer (Whiston), exhibits an interesting example of an anomalous developement of the powers of reflection and abstraction, at an age when, in ordinary cases, the attention is wholly engrossed with sensible objects.

Such an inversion of the common process of nature in unfolding our different

faculties, is perhaps one of the rarest phenomena in the intellectual world ; and, wherever it occurs, may be regarded as strongly symptomatic of something peculiar and decided in the philosophical character of the individual: « One of his parents,” says Whiston, “ asked him when he was very young, Whether God could do every thing ? He answered, Yes ! He was asked again, Whether God could tell a lie ? He answered, No ! And he understood the question to suppose, that this was the only thing that God could not do; nor durst he say, so young was he then, that he thought there was any thing else which God could not do ; while yet, well he remembered, that he had, even then, a clear conviction in his own mind, that there was one thing which God could not do;—that he could not annihilate that space which was in the room where they were.”

1

1 The question concerning the necessary existence of Space and of Time formed one of the principal subjects of discussion between Clarke and Leibnitz. According to the former, space and time are, both of them, infinite, immutable, and indestructible. According to his antagonist, “ space is nothing but the order of things co-existing,” and “ time nothing but the order of things successive!” The notion of real absolute Space, in particular, he pronounces to be a mere chimera and superjicial imagination ; classing it with those prejudices which Bacon called idola tribus. (See his 4th Paper, § 14.) It has always appeared to me a thing quite inexplicable, that the great majority of philosophers, both in Germany and in France, have, on the above question, decided in favour of Leibnitz. Even D’Alembert himself, who, on most metaphysical points, reasons so justly and so profoundly, has, in this instance, been carried along by the prevailing opinion (or, perhaps, it would be more correct to say, by the fashionable phraseology) among his countrymen. “ Y auroit-il un espace, s’il n’y avoit point de corps, et une duree 8

FIRST DISSERTATION.

69

With this early and deep impression on his mind, it is easy to conceive how Newton’s Scholium should have encouraged him to resume the musings of his boyish days, concerning the necessary existence of space ; and to trace, as far as he could, its connection with the principles of natural theology.

But the above anecdote affords a proof how strongly

his habits of thought had long before predisposed him for the prosecution of a metaphysical idea, precisely the same with that on which this scholium proceeds. It would be superfluous to dwell longer on the history of these speculations, which, whatever value they may possess in the opinion of persons accustomed to deep and abstract reasoning, are certainly not well adapted to ordinary or to uncultivated understandings. This consideration furnishes, of itself, no slight presumption, that they were not intended to be the media by which the bulk of mankind were to be led to the knowledge of truths so essential to human happiness ; and, accordingly, it was on this very ground, that Bishop Butler, and Dr Francis Hutcheson, were induced to strike into a different and more popular path fox establishing the fundamental principles of religion and morality.

Both of

these writers appear to have communicated, in very early youth, their doubts and objections to Dr Clarke; and to have had, even then, a glimpse of those inquiries by which they were afterwards to give so new and so fortunate a direction to the ethical studies of their countrymen.

It is sufficient here to remark this circumstance as an important step

sil ny avert ncii? Ces questions viennent, ce me semble, de ce quon suppose au temps et a lespace plus e rea i e qui s nen ont Les enfants, qui disent que le vuide n’est rien, ont raison parce qu’ils sen tiennent au Simples notions du sens commun; * et les philosophes, qui veulent realiser le vuide se perdent ans leurs speculations: le vuide a 6te enfante par les abstractions, et voila Tabus d’une methode si utile a ! deS ^ards- ^ll n’y aV0lt point de corps et de succession, I'espace et te temps seroient possibles, mais Us n existeroient pas." (Melanges, &c. T. V. § xvi.) Bailly, a writer by no means partial to D’Alembert quotes, with entire approbation, the foregoing observations; subjoining to them, in the following terms' is own judgment on the merits of this branch of the controversy between Clarke and Leibnitz. La notion du temps et de Tespace, est un des points sur lesquels Leibnitz a combattu contre Clarke;* mais il nous semble que 1 Anglois n’a nen oppose de satisfaisant aux raisons de Leibnitz.” (Eloge de Leibnitz.) As for the point here in dispute, I must own, that it does not seem to me a fit subject for argument; inasmuch as I cannot even form a conception of the proposition contended for by Leibnitz. The light in which the question struck Clarke in his childhood, is the same in which I am still disposed to view it • or rather, I should say, is the light in which I must ever view it, while the frame of my understanding continues unaltered. Of what data is human reason possessed, from which it is entitled to argue in opposition to truths, the contrary of which it is impossible not only to prove, but to express in terms comprehensible r oy our faculties ? For some remarks on the scholastic controversies concerning space and time, see the First Part of this T>,ssertaUon, Note I. See also Locke's Essay, Book ii. Chap. 18. §§ 16, 17, 18. Bai% (5M his

M

for u 13 M, 10

* fc“"d ^ ^ ^

FIRST DISSERTATION*

70

in the progress of moral philosophy.

The farther illustration of it properly belongs to an-

other part of this discourse. The chief glory of Clarke, as a metaphysical author, is due to the boldness and ability with which he placed himself in the breach against the Necessitarians and Fatalists of his times.

With a mind far inferior to that of Locke, in comprehensiveness, in originality,

and in fertility of invention, he was nevertheless the more wary and skilful disputant of the two, possessing, in a singular degree, that reach of thought in grasping remote consequences, which effectually saved him from those rash concessions into which Locke was frequently betrayed by the greater warmth of his temperament, and vivacity of his fancy. This logical foresight (the natural result of his habits of mathematical study) rendered him peculiarly fit to contend with adversaries, eager and qualified to take advantage of every vulnerable point in his doctrines; but it gave, at the same time, to his style a tameness, and monotony, and want of colouring, which never appear in the easy and spirited, though often unfinished and unequal, sketches of Locke.

Voltaire has somewhere said of him,

that he was a mere reasoning machine (un moulin d raisonnemenf), and the expression (though doubtless much too unqualified) possesses a merit, in point of just discrimination, of which Voltaire was probably not fully aware. ■ In the extent of his learning, the correctness of his taste, and the depth of his scientific acquirements t Clarke possessed indisputable advantages over Locke; with which advantages he combined >» less important, the systematical steadiness with easy of fortune and unbroken leisure enable! to pursue his favourite speculations through thewhich wholehis course his life. On the subject of Free-will, Locke is more indistinct, undecided, and inconsistent, than might have bee expected from his powerful mind, when directed to so important a question This was probably owing o his own strong feelings in favour of man’s moral liberty, struggling with the deep impression left o ^ philosophical 'creed by the writings of Hobbes, and with his deference for the ta ents of h,s own intimate friend Anthony Collins. * That Locke conceived himself to be an advocate (or free-mll appears indisputablv from many expressions in his Chapter on Pooler,- and yet, in that very chapter, he has made various concessions to his adversaries, in which he seems to yield all that was contended for by Hobbes and Collins : And, accordingly, he is ranked, with some appearance of truth, by F nestley, with those who while they opposed verbally the scheme of necessity, have adopted it substantially, without being aware ot th

Tn one of6 Locke’s letters to Mr Molyneux, he has stated, in the strongest possible terms, his conviction f nvm's free agency • resting this conviction entirely on our indisputable consciousness of the fact. This \ consider as well worthy of attention in the argument about Free-wil,; for, although fn ouestions of pure speculation, the authority of great names is entitled to no weight, excepting in so far as iMs supported by solid reasonings, the case is otherwise with facts relating to the phenomena of the hum 1 m ild. The patient attention with which Mr Locke had studied these very nice phenomena durl the course of a long life, gives to the results of his metaphysical experience a value o the same sort, Zt much greater in degree, with that which we attach to a delicate experiment ,n chemistry, when vouch* See Note (Q.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

73

a work entitled, Renati Descartes Principiorum Philosophicc, Pars Prima et Secunda, More Geometrico Demonstrates, 1663. It was, however, in little else than his physical principles that he agreed with Descartes ; for no two philosophers ever differed more widely in their metaphysical and theological tenets.

Fontenelle characterizes his system as a

“ Cartesianism pushed to extravagance” f une Cartesianisme outree) ; an expression which, although far from conveying a just or adequate idea of the whole spirit of his doctrines, applies very happily to his boldness and pertinacity in following out his avowed principles to the most paradoxical consequences which he conceived them to involve.

The reputa-

tion of his writings, accordingly, has fallen entirely (excepting perhaps in Germany and in Holland) with the philosophy on which they were grafted ; although some of the most obnoxious opinions contained in them are still, from time to time, obtruded on the world, under the disguise of a new form, and of a phraseology less revolting to modern taste. In no part of Spinoza’s works has he avowed himself an atheist; but it will not be disputed, by those who comprehend the drift of his reasonings, that, in point of practical tendency, Atheism and Spinozism are one and the same.

In this respect, we may apply to

Spinoza (and I may add to Vanini also) what Cicero has said of Dpicurus $ Verbis redquit Deos, re sustudt;—a remark which coincides exactly with an expression of Newton’s in the Scholium at the end of the Principia: “ Deus sine dominio, providentia, et causis finalibus, nihil aliud est quam Tatum et Natura.”

1

Among other doctrines of natural and revealed religion, which Spinoza affected to embrace, was that of the Divine Omnipresence ; a doctrine which, combined with the Plenum of Descartes, led him, by a short and plausible process of reasoning, to the revival of the old theory which represented God as the soul of the 'world; or rather to that identification of God and of the material universe, which I take to be still more agreeable to the idea of Spinoza.2 1

I am particularly anxious to direct the attention of my readers to this part of

One of the most elaborate and acute refutations of Spinozism which has yet appeared is to be found in Bayle s Dictionary, where it is described as “ the most monstrous scheme imaginable, and the most diametiically opposite to the clearest notions of the mind/’ The same author affirms, that “ it has been fully overthrown even by the weakest of its adversaries/’—- It does not, indeed, appear possible” (as Mr Maclaurin has observed) - to invent another system equally absurd; amounting (as it does in fact) to this proposition, that there is but one substance in the universe, endowed with infinite attributes (particularly infinite extension and cogitation), which produces all other things necessarily as its own modifications, and which alone is, in all events, both physical and moral, at once cause and effect, agent and patient.”—View; of Newton’s Discoveries, Book I. Chap. 4. Spinoza supposes that there are in God two eternal properties, thought and extension; and as he held, with Descartes, that extension is the essence of matter, he must necessarily have conceived materiality to be DISS. I. PART II. * K

74

FIRST DISSERTATION.

his system, as I conceive it to be at present very generally misrepresented, or, at least, very generally misunderstood; a thing not to be wondered at, considering the total neglect

an essential attribute of God. “ Per Corpus intelligo modum, qui Dei essentiam quatenus ut res extensa consideratur, certoet determinato modo exprimit.” (Eihica ordine Geometrico Demonstrata. Pars 2. Defin. 1. See also Ethic. Pars 1. Prop. 14.) With respect to the other attributes of God, he held, that God is the cause of all things; but that he acts, not from choice, but from necessity ; and, of consequence, that he is the involuntary author of all the good and evil, virtue and vice, which are exhibited in human life. “ Res nullo alio modo, neque alio ordine a Deo produci potuerunt, quam productse sunt.” {Ibid. Pars 1. Prop. 33.) In one of his letters to Mr Oldenburgh (Letter 21), he acknowledges, that his ideas of God and of nature were very different from those entertained by modern Christians; adding by way of explanation, “ Deum rerum omnium causam immanentem, non vero transeuntem statuo—an expression to Avhich I can annex no other meaning but this, that God is inseparably and essentially united with his works, and that they form together but one being. The diversity of opinions entertained concerning the nature of Spinozism has been chiefly owing to this, that some have formed their notions of it from the books which Spinoza published during his life, and others from his posthumous remains. It is in the last alone (particularly in his Ethics) that his system is to be seen completely unveiled and undisguised. In the former, and also in the letters addressed to his friends, he occasionally accommodates himself, with a very temporizing spirit, to what he considered as the prejudices of the world. In proof of this, see his Tractatus Theologico-Politicus, and his epistolary correspondence, passim ; above all, his letter to a young friend who had apostatized from Protestantism to the Catholic Church. The letter is addressed, Nobilissimo Juveni, Alberto Burgh. {Spin. Op. T. II. p. 695.) The edition of Spinoza’s works, to which my references are made, is the complete and very accurate one published at Jena in 1802, by Henr. Eberh. Gottlob Paulus, who styles himself Doctor and Professor of Theology. This learned divine is at no pains to conceal his admiration of the character as well as talents of his author ; nor does he seem to have much to object to the system of Spinozism, as explained in his posthumous work upon Ethics; a work which, the editor admits, contains the only genuine exposition of Spinoza’s creed. “ Sedes systematis quod sibi condidit in ethica est.” {Free/. Iteratce Editionis, p. ix.) In what manner all this was reconciled in his theological lectures with the doctrines either of natural or of revealed religion, it is not very easy to imagine. Perhaps he only affords a new example of what Dr Clarke long ago remarked, that “ Believing too much and too little have commonly the luck to meet together, like two things moving contrary ways in the same circle.” {Third Letter to Dodmell.) A late German writer, who, in his own opinions, has certainly no leaning towards Spinozism, has yet spoken of the moral tendency of Spinoza’s writings, in terms of the warmest praise. “ The morality of Spinoza (says M. Fred. Schlegel) is not indeed that of the Bible, for he himself was no Christian, but it is still a pure and noble morality, resembling that of the ancient Stoics, perhaps possessing considerable advantages over that system. That which makes him strong when opposed to adversaries, who do not understand or feel his depth, or who unconsciously have fallen into errors not much different from his, is not merely the scientific clearness and decision of his intellect, but in a much higher degree the openheartedness, strong feeling, and conviction, with which all that he says seems to gush from his heart and soul.” {Led. of Fred. Schlegel, Eng. Trans. Vol. II. p. 244.) The rest of the passage, which contains a sort of apology for the system of Spinoza, is still more curious.

Although it is with the metaphysical tenets of Spinoza alone that we are immediately concerned at pre4 '

FIRST DISSERTATION. into which his works have long fallen.

75

It is only in this way I can account for the fre-

quent use which has most unfairly been made of the term Spinozism to stigmatise and discredit some doctrines, or rather some modes of speaking, which have been sanctioned, not only by the wisest of the ancients, but by the highest names in English philosophy and literature j and which, whether right or wrong, will be found, on a careful examination and comparison, not to have the most distant affinity to the absurd creed with which they have been confounded.

I am afraid that Pope, in the following lines of the Dunciad, suffered

himself so far to be misled by the malignity of Warburton, as to aim a secret stab at Newton and Clarke, by associating their figurative, and not altogether unexceptionable language,

sent, it is not altogether foreign to my purpose to observe, that he had also speculated much about the principles of government; and that the coincidence of his opinions with those of Hobbes, on this last subject, was not less remarkable than the similarity of their views on the most important questions of metaphysics and ethics. Unconnected as these different branches of knowledge may at first appear, the theories of Spinoza and of Hobbesconcerning all of them, formed parts of one and the same system ; the whole terminating ultimately in the maxim with which (according to Plutarch) Anaxarchus consoled Alexander after the murder of Clytus : Ilav to avo ra xoarwrog d,m,ov mat. Even in discussing the question about Liberty and Necessity, Hobbes cannot help glancing at this political corollary. “ The power of God alone is a justification of any action he doth.”.... « That which he doth is made just by his don g lt ' . “ P°Wer U'resistlble justifies al1 actions really and properly, in whomsoever it be found ” (Of Liberty and Necessity, addressed to the Lord Marquis of Newcastle.) Spinoza has expressed himself ex actly to the same purpose. (See his Tractatus Politicus, Cap. 2. §§ 4.) So steadily, indeed is this practical application of their abstract principles kept in view by both these writers, that not one generous

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^dating mo-lit^whllprepares tTXto7Zn^leTwit who are disposed (as has been alleged of the first of the Caesars) to consider th Jr fellow-creatures " but Tf the E m ”1 f J amb“i0n' °r t00lS t0 be employed in removin* it” This Practical tendency ftoJ !h !0phy 18how r^atked by one the wisestwas of in thethe Roman we learn from the same highP authority, fashionable thisofphilosophy higherstatesmen; circles of and his country" d UCh lmnied,at tried ^tlcr, Clarke,atand MrinHutcheson, in his ownattend system all all incompatible, have to beDroriginal, least some points.eachThey have f„ adif td

118

FIRST DISSERTATION.

o>ical conjectures, the manner in which the intercourse between the thinking principle and the external world is carried on, no philosopher seems ever to have been more completely aware ; and, accordingly, he confines himself strictly, in all his researches concerning this intercourse, to an examination of the general laws by which it is regulated.

There is, at

the same time, a remarkable coincidence between some of his views and those of the other two writers.

All of the three, while they profess the highest veneration for Locke, have

abandoned his account of the origin of our ideas for that of Gassendi ; and, by doing so, have, with the best intentions, furnished arms against those principles which it was their common aim to establish in the world.

1

It is much to be regretted, that by far the greater

part of those French writers who have since speculated about the human mind, have acquired the whole of their knowledge of Locke’s philosophy through this mistaken comment upon its fundamental principle.

On this subject I have already exhausted all that I

have to offer on the effect of Condillac’s writings j and I flatter myself have sufficiently shown how widely his commentary differs from the text of his author.

It is this com-

mentary, however, which is now almost universally received on the Continent as the doctrine of Locke, and which may justly be regarded as the sheet-anchor of those systems which are commonly stigmatised in England with the appellation of French philosophy. Had Condillac been sufficiently aware of the consequences which have been deduced (and I must add logically deduced) from his account of the origin of our knowledge, I am per-

something to the fund of observations collected by their predecessors, and already the common property of mankind. This branch of science, which the English themselves neglect at present, appears to have been recently transported into France. I discover some traces of it not only in the Encyclope'die, but in the Theory of Agreeable Sensations, by M. de Pouilly; and much more in the late discourse of M. Rousseau, On the Origin and Foundation of the Inequality of Ranks among Men. Although I perfectly agree with Mr Smith in his general remark on the sterility of invention among the French metaphysicians posterior to Descartes, when compared to those of England, I cannot pass over the foregoing quotation without expressing my surprise, 1^, To find the name of Malebranche (one of the highest in modern philosophy) degraded to a level with that of Regius; and, 2dly, To observe Mr Smith’s silence with respect to Buffier and Condillac, while he mentions the author of the Theory of Agreeable Sensations as a metaphysician of original genius. Of the merits of Condillac, whose most important works were published several years before this paper of Mr Smith’s, I am about to speak in the text; and those of Buffier I shall have occasion to mention in a subsequent part of this discourse. In the mean time, I shall only say of him, that I regard him as one of the most original as well as sound philosophers of whom the eighteenth century has to boast. ; 1 Condillac’s earliest work appeared three years before the publication of Hartley s Theory. It is entitled, “ Essai sar I’Origine des Connoissances Humaines. Outrage ou Ion reduit d un seul piincipe tout ce qui concerne Ventendement humain.” This seul principe is the association of ideas. rI he account which both authors give of the transformation of sensations into ideas is substantially the same.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

119

suaded, from his known candour and love of truth, that he would have been eager to acknowledge and to retract his error. In this apparent simplification and generalization of Locke’s doctrine, there is, it must be acknowledged, something, at first sight, extremely seducing.

It relieves the mind from

the painful exercise of abstracted reflection, and amuses it with analogy and metaphor when it looked only for the severity of logical discussion.

The clearness and simplicity of

Condillac’s style add to the force of this illusion, and flatter the reader with an agreeable idea of the powers of his own understanding, when he finds himself so easily conducted through the darkest labyrinths of metaphysical science. ascribe the great popularity of his works.

It is to this cause I would chiefly

They may be read with as little exertion of

thought as a history or a novel; and it is only when we shut the book, and attempt to express in our own words, the substance of what we have gained, that we have the mortification to see our supposed acquisitions vanish into air. I he philosophy of Condillac was, in a more peculiar manner, suited to the taste of his own country, where (according to Mad. de Stael) “ few read a book but with a view to talk of it.”

1

Among such a people, speculations which are addressed to the power of re-

flection can never expect to acquire the same popularity with theories expressed in a metaphorical language, and constantly recalling to the fancy the impressions of the external senses.

Ihe state of society in France, accordingly, is singularly unfavourable to the in-

ductive philosophy of the human mind ; and of this truth no proof more decisive can be produced, than the admiration with which the metaphysical writings of Condillac have been so long regarded. On the other hand, it cannot be denied that Condillac has, in many instances, been eminently successful, both in observing and describing the mental phenomena; but, in such cases, he commonly follows Locke as his guide; and, wherever he trusts to his own judgment, he seldom fails to wander from his way.

The best part of his works relates to

the action and reaction of thought and language on each other, a subject which had been previously very profoundly treated by Locke, but which Condillac has had the merit of placing in many new and happy points of view.

In various cases, his conclusions are

pushed too far; and in others are expressed without due precision ; but, on the whole, they form a most valuable accession to this important branch of logic j and (what not a

En F ran Ce ne Ht u re un 'ie“ lemar ^ °nmuch S ^ is becoming daily que pour en parler” (AUemagne, I. p. 202.') i , T am afraid, more and more applicable to ourTom. own island.

The

FIRST DISSERTATION.

no

little enhances their value) they have been instrumental in recommending the subject to the attention of other inquirers, still better qualiHed than their author to do it justice. In the speculation, too, concerning the origin and the theoretical history of language, Condillac was one of the first who made any considerable advances ; nor does it reflect any discredit on his ingenuity, that he has left some of the principal difficulties connected with the inquiry very imperfectly explained.

The same subject was soon after taken up

by Mr Smith, who, I think, it must be owned, has rather slurred over these difficulties, than attempted to remove them ; an omission on his part the more remarkable, as a very specious and puzzling objection had been recently stated by Rousseau, not only to the theory of Condillac, but to all speculations which have for their object the solution of the same problem.

“ If language” (says Rousseau) “ be the result of human convention,

and if words be essential to the exercise of thought, language would appear to be necessary for the invention of language.”1—“ But” (continues the same author) “ when, by means which 1 cannot conceive, our new grammarians began to extend their ideas, and to generalize their words, their ignorance must have confined them within very narrow bounds

How, for example, could they imagine or comprehend such words as

matter, mind, substance, mode, figure, motion, since our philosophers, who have so long made use of them, scarcely understand them, and since the ideas attached to them, being purely metaphysical, can have no model in nature ?” “ I stop at these first steps” (continues Rousseau), “ and entreat my judges to pause, and consider the distance between the easiest part of language, the invention of physical substantives, and the power of expressing all the thoughts of man, so as to speak in public, and influence society.

I entreat them to reflect upon the time and knowledge it must have

required to discover numbers, abstract words, aorists, and all the tenses of verbs, particles, syntax, the art of connecting propositions and arguments, and how to form the whole logic of discourse.

As for myself, alarmed at these multiplying difficulties, and convinced of

the almost demonstrable impossibility of language having been formed and established by means merely human, I leave to others the discussion of the problem, “ Whether a so-

1

That men never could have invented an artificial language, if they had not possessed a natural language, is an observation of Dr Reid’s ; and it is this indisputable and self-evident truth which gives to Rousseau’s remark that imposing plausibility, which, at first sight, dazzles and perplexes the judgment. I by no means say, that the former proposition affords a key to all the difficulties suggested by the latter ; but it advances us at least one important step towards their solution.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

m

ciety already formed was more necessary for the institution of language, or a language already invented for the establishment of society ?* ”

1

Of the various difficulties here enumerated, that mentioned by Rousseau, in the last sentence, was plainly considered by him as the greatest of all j or rather as comprehending under it all the rest.

But this difficulty arises merely from his own peculiar and pa-

radoxical theory about the artificial origin of society j a theory which needs no refutation, but the short and luminous aphorism of Montesquieu, that “ man is born in society, and there he remains.,,

The other difficulties touched upon by Rousseau, in the former part

of this quotation, are much more serious, and have never yet been removed in a manner completely satisfactory:

And hence some very ingenious writers have been led to con-

clude, that language could not possibly have been the work of human invention.

This

argument has been lately urged with much acuteness and plausibility by Dr Magee of Dublin, and by M. de Bonald of Paris.2

It may, however, be reasonably questioned, if

these philosophers would not have reasoned more logically, had they contented them^ selves with merely affirming, that the problem has not yet been solved, without going so far as to pronounce it to be absolutely insolvable.

For my own part, when I

consider its extreme difficulty, and the short space of time during which it has engaged the attention of the learned, I am more disposed to wonder at the steps which have been already gained in the research, than at the number of desiderata which remain to employ the ingenuity of our successors.

It is justly remarked by Dr Ferguson, that,

44

when lan-

guage has attained to that perfection to which it arrives in the progress of society, the speculative mind, in comparing the first and the last stages of the progress, feels the same sort of amazement with a traveller, who, after rising insensibly on the slope of a hill, comes to look down from a precipice, to the summit of which he scarcely believes he could have ascended without supernatural aid.”3 -■ - ■ 1

.

"

■■■ ■ —- ■

—

Discours sur I’origine et les fondemens de I’inegaliie parmi les hommes. The same theory has been extended to the art of writing; but if this art was first taught to man by an express revelation from Heaven, what account can be given of its present state in the great empire of China? Is the mode of writing practised there of divine or of human origin? 3 Principles of Moral and Political Science, Vol. I. p. 43. Edin. 1792. To this observation may be added, by way of comment, the following reflections of one of the most learned prelates of the English church: The first edition of this translation was printed as early as 1732. From Buhle’s History oj Modern Philosophy (a work which did not fall into my hands till long after this section was written) I find that Cudworth's Tveolise of Immutable Morality is now not only well known to the scholars ol Germany, but that some of them have remarked the identity of the doctrines contained in it wit t ose of Kant. “ Meiners, dans son histoire gentle de 1'Ethique nie que le systeme morale de Cudworth soit identique avec celui de Platon, et pretend an contraire, < que les princ.pes comideres comme appartenans de la maniere la plus speciale a la morale de Kant, etaient enseignes i y a deja plusieurs generations par fecole du philosophe Anglais." (Hut. de la Phil. Moderns, Tom. Ill p. 577.) In opposition to this, Buhle states his own decided conviction-" qu’aucune des idfcs de Cudworth ne se rapproc le de celles de Kant." (Ibid.) How far this conviction is weU founded, the passage from Cudworth, quoted in the text, will enable my readers to judge for themselves. . , r , That Cudworth has blended with his principles a vein of Platonic mysticism, which is not to be tound in Kant, is undeniable; but it does not follow from this, that none of Kant's leading ideas are borrowed from the writings of Cudworth. .w „ r „ The assertion of Buhle, just mentioned, is the more surprising, as he himself acknowledges that- La philosophic morale de Price prfsente en effet une analogic frappante avec Celle de Kant; and in another part of his work, he expresses himself thus on the same subject: “ Le plus remarquable de tons les moalistes modernes de 1'Angleterre est, sans contredit, Richard Price.... ..On remarque 1 analogic la plus frappante entre ses idees sur les bases de la moralite, et celles que 1. philosophic critique a iait nait e n ... •. j rvrtalp tl’f *lever le plus petit doute sur 1 entiere ongmalite de Allemagne, quoique il ne soit cependant pas possible a eiever ie pius, p ® ees dernieres " (Tom. V. p. 303.) Is there any thing of importance in the system of Price, which is not borrowed from the Treatise of Immutable Morality ? The distinguishing merit of this learned and most respectable writer is the good sense with which he has applied the doctrines of Cudworth to the sceptical theItqTel Okie's reflections on Cudworth's philosophy, we are told, that according11 to him, " wUl of God is only a simple blind power, acting mechanically or accidenta y. ( lonte meme en Dieu, n'est qu'un simple pouvoir aveugle, agissant mechamq^ment J acadentelkment. ) If this were true, Cudworth ought to be ranked among the disciples, not of Plato, but of Spinoza 2 i„ this instance, a striking resemblance is observable between the language of Cudworth and that of Kant • both of them having followed the distinctions of the Socratic school, as explained m the Thewtetus of Ham They who are at all acquainted with Kant's Critijue, will immediately recognise his phraseology in the passage quoted above.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

149

propositions which I am unable to comprehend ; but he seems to have advanced at least as far as Kant, in drawing the line between the provinces of the senses and of the understanding ; and although not one of the most luminous of our English writers, he must be allowed to be far superior to the German metaphysician, both in point of perspicuity and of precision. A later writer, too, of our own country (Dr Price), a zealous follower both of Plato and of Cudworth, afterwards resumed the same argument, in a work which appeared long before the Critique of Pure Reason ;1 and urged it with much force against those modern metaphysicians, who consider the senses as the sources of all our knowledge.

At a period

somewhat earlier, many very interesting quotations of a similar import had been produced by the learned Mr Harris, from the later commentators of the Alexandrian school on the philosophy of Aristotle; and had been advantageously contrasted by him with the account given of the origin of our ideas, not only by Hobbes and Gassendi, but by many of the professed followers of Locke.

If this part of the Kantian system, therefore, was new in Germany,

it certainly could have no claim to the praise of originality, in the estimation of those at all acquainted with English literature.2 1 See a review of the Principal Questions and Difficulties relating to Morals, by Richard Price, D. D. London, 1758. 2 I have mentioned here only those works of a modern date, which may be reasonably presumed to be still in general circulation among the learned. But many very valuable illustrations of the Platonic distinction between the senses and the understanding may be collected from the English writers of the seventeenth century. Among these it is sufficient to mention at present the names of John Smith and Henry More of Cambridge, and of Joseph Glanvile, the author of Scepsis Scientifica. Cudworth’s Treatise of Eternal and Immutable Morality, although it appears, from intrinsic evidence to have been composed during the lifetime of Hobbes, was not published till 173], when the author’s manuscript came into the hands of his grandson, Francis Cudworth Masham, one of the Masters in Chancery. This work, therefore, could not have been known to Leibnitz, who died seventeen years before; a circumstance which may help to account for its having attracted so much less attention in Germany than his Intellectual System, which is repeatedly mentioned by Leibnitz in terms of the highest praise. From an article in the. Edinburgh Review (Vol. XXVII. p. 191), we learn, that large unpublished manuscripts of Dr Cudworth are deposited in the British Museum. It is much to be regretted (as the author of the article observes), that they should have been so long withheld from the public. “ The press of the two Universities (he adds) would be properly employed in works, which a commercial publisher could not prudently undertake.” May we not indulge a hope, that this suggestion will, sooner or later, have its due effect ? In the preface of Mosheim to his Latin version of the Intellectual System, there is a catalogue of Cudworth’s unpublished remains, communicated to Mosheim by Dr Chandler, then Bishop of Durham. Among these are two distinct works on the Controversy concerning Liberty and Necessity, of each of which works Mosheim has given us the general contents. One of the chapters is entitled, « Answer to the Objection against Liberty, avairwv.” It is not probable that it contains any thing very new or important; but it would certainly be worth while to know the reply made by Cudworth to an objection which both Leibnitz and La Place have fixed upon as decisive of the point in dispute. ;/

FIRST DISSERTATION

150

In order, however, to strike at the root of what the Germans call the philosophy of sensation, it was necessary to trace, with some degree of systematical detail, the origin of our most important simple notions; and for this purpose it seemed reasonable to begin with an analytical view of those faculties and powers, to the exercise of which the developement of these notions is necessarily subsequent.

It is thus that the simple notions of time

and motion presuppose the exercise of the faculty of memory ; and that the simple notions of truth, of belief of doubt, and many others of the same kind, necessarily presuppose the exercise of the power of reasoning.

I do not know, that, in this anatomy of the

mind, much progress has hitherto been made by the German metaphysicians.

A great

deal certainly has been accomplished by the late Dr Reid ; and something, perhaps, has been added to his labours by those of his successors. According to Kant himself, his metaphysical doctrines first occurred to him while employed in the examination of Mr Hume’s Theory of Causation.

The train of thought

by which he was led to them will be best stated in his own words ; for it is in this way alone that I can hope to escape the charge of misrepre sentation from his followers.

Some

of his details would perhaps have been more intelligible to my readers, had my plan allowed me to prefix to them a slight outline of Hume’s philosophy.

But this the general ar-

rangement of my discourse rendered impossible; nor can any material inconvenience result, in this instance, from the order which I have adopted, inasmuch as Hume’s Theory of Causation, how new soever it may have appeared to Kant, is fundamentally the same with that of Malebranche, and of a variety of other old writers, both French and English. 1

“ Since the Essays (says Kant) of Locke and of Leibnitz, or rather since the origin

of metaphysics, as far as their history extends, no circumstance has occurred, which might have been more decisive of the. fate of this science than the attack made upon it by David Hume.2

He proceeded upon a single but important idea in metaphysics, the connection

of cause and effect, and the concomitant notions of power and action.

He challenged

reason to answer him what title she had to imagine, that any thing may be so constituted 1

See the Preface of Kant to one of his Treatises, entitled Prolegomena ad Metaphysicam quamque juturam quae qua Scientia poterit prodire. I have availed myself in the text of the English version of Dr Willich, from the German original, which I have carefully compared with the Latin version of Born. A few sentences, omitted by Willich, I have thought it worth while to quote, at the foot of the page, from the Latin translation. (Elem. of Critical Philosophy, by A. F. M. Willich, M. D. p. 10, et seq. London, 1798.) 2 « Humius.—Qui quidem nullam huic cognitionis parti lucem adfudit, sed tamen excitavit scintillam, de qua sane lumen potuisset accendi, si ea incidisset in fomitem, facile accipientem, cuj usque scintillatio dili,center alta fuerit et aucta 8

FIRST DISSERTATION.

151

as that, if it be given, something else is also thereby inferred ; for the idea of cause denotes this.

He proved beyond contradiction, that it is impossible for reason to think of

such a connection d priori, for it contains necessity ; but it is not possible to perceive how, because something is, something else must necessarily be ; nor how the idea of such a connection can be introduced d priori. “ Hence, he concluded, that reason entirely deceives herself with this idea, and that she erroneously considers it as her own child, when it is only the spurious offspring of imagination, impregnated by experience; a subjective necessity, arising from habit and the association of ideas being thus substituted for an objective one derived from perception. However hasty and unwarrantable Hume’s conclusion might appear, yet it was founded upon investigation ; and this investigation well deserved, that some of the philosophers of his time should have united to solve, more happily if possible, the problem in the sense in which he delivered it: A complete reform of the science might have resulted from this solution.

But it is a mortifying reflection, that his opponents, Reid, Beattie, Os-

wald, and, lastly, Priestley himself, totally misunderstood the tendency of his problem.1 The question was not, whether the idea of cause be in itself proper and indispensable to the illustration of all natural knowledge, for this Hume had never doubted ; but whether this idea be an object of thought through reasoning d priori ; and whether, in this manner, it possesses internal evidence, independently of all experience ; consequently, whether its utility be not limited to objects of sense alone.

It was upon this point that Hume ex-

2

pected an explanation.

“ 1 free'y ow“ it; was these suggestions of Hume’s which first, many years ago, roused me from my dogmatical slumber, and gave to my inquiries quite a different direction in the field of speculative philosophy.

I was far from being carried away by his concliu

sions, the fallacy of which chiefly arose from his not forming to himself an idea of the wnofe of his problem, but merely investigating a part of it, the solution of which was impossible without a comprehensive view of the whole.

1

When we proceed on a well founded,

“ Non potest sine certo quodam molestiae sensi. percipi, quantopere ejus adversarii, Reidim, Omatdm-

et tandem Pnestlaus, a scopo qusstionis abberrarent, et propterea, quod ea semper acciperent pro concessis, quai ipse in dubium vocaret, contra vero cum vehementia,. et maximam partem cum ingenti immodestia ea probare gestirent, quae illi nunquam in mentem venisset dubitare, nutum ejus ad emendationem neghgerent, ut omnia m statu pristino manerent, quasi nihil quidquam factum videretur.” n thing be m re UnjUSt than tHeSe remarks in the ^TZ8h ° ^ ° > unqualified form in which they are 1 think be • / antj 11 > acknowledged, that some grounds for them have been furnished by ocasional passages which dropped from the pens of most of Mr Hume’s Scottish opponents.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

152

though not thoroughly digested thought, we may expect, by patient and continued reflection, to prosecute it farther than the acute genius had done to whom we are indebted for the first spark of this light.

I first inquired, therefore, whether Hume’s objection

might not be a general one, and soon found, that the idea of cause and effect is far from being the only one, by which the understanding d priori thinks of the connection of things; but rather that the science of metaphysics is altogether founded upon these connections.

I endeavoured to ascertain their number; and, having succeeded in this at-

tempt, I proceeded to the examination of those general ideas, which, I was now convinced, are not, as Hume apprehended, derived from experience, but arise out of the pure understanding.

This deduction, which seemed impossible to my acute predecessor, and which

nobody besides him had ever conceived, although every one makes use of these ideas, without asking himself upon what their objective validity is founded; this deduction, I say, was the most difficult which could have been undertaken for the behoof of metaphysics; and what was still more embarrassing, metaphysics could not here offer me the smallest assistance, because that deduction ought first to establish the possibility of a system of metaphysics.

As I had now succeeded in the explanation of Hume’s problem, not merely

in a particular instance, but with a view of the whole power of pure reason, I could advance with sure though tedious steps, to determine completely, and upon general principles, the compass of Pure Reason, both what is the sphere of its exertion, and what are its limits; which was all that was required for erecting a system of metaphysics upon a proper and solid foundation.’ It is difficult to discover any thing in the foregoing passage on which Kant could found a claim to the slightest originality.

A variety of English writers had, long before this

work appeared, replied to Mr Hume, by observing that the understanding is itself a source of new ideas, and that it is from this source that our notions of cause and effect are derived.

“ Our certainty (says Dr Price) that every new event requires some cause,

depends no more on experience than our certainty of any other the most obvious subject of intuition.

In the idea of every change, is included that of its being an effect,”

1

In the

works of Dr Reid, many remarks of the same nature are to be found 5 but, instead of quoting any of these, I shall produce a passage from a much older author, whose mode of thinking and writing may perhaps be more agreeable to the taste of Kant’s countrymen than the simplicity and precision aimed at by the disciples of Locke. 1

Review of the Principal Questions and Difficulties in Morals, Chap. i. sect. 2. book was printed in 1758.

The first edition of this 10

FIRST DISSERTATION.

153

“ That there are some ideas of the mind (says Dr Cudworth), which were not stamped or imprinted upon it from the sensible objects without, and therefore must needs arise from the innate vigour and activity of the mind itself, is evident, in that there are, First, Ideas of such things as are neither affections of bodies, nor could be imprinted or conveyed by any local motions, nor can be pictured at all by the fancy in any sensible colours ; such as are the ideas of wisdom, folly, prudence, imprudence, knowledge, ignorance, verity, falsity, virtue, vice, honesty, dishonesty, justice, injustice, volition, cogitation, nay of sense itself, which is a species of cogitation, and which is not perceptible by any sense; and many other such like notions as include something of cogitation in them, or refer to cogitative beings only; which ideas must needs spring from the active power and innate fecundity of the mind itself,1 because the corporeal objects of sense can imprint no such things upon it.

Secondly, In that there are many relative notions and ideas, attributed as well

to corporeal as incorporeal things, that proceed wholly from the activity of the mind comparing one thing with another.

Such as are Cause, Effect, means, end, order, propor-

tion, similitude, dissimilitude, equality, inequality, aptitude, inaptitude, symmetry, asymmetry, whole and part, genus and species, and thelike.,,—Immutable Morality, pp. 148, 149. It is not my business at present to inquire into the solidity of the doctrine here maintained.

I would only wish to be informed what additions have been made by Kant to

the reply given to Mr Hume by our English philosophers, and to direct the attention of my readers to the close resemblance between this part of Kant’s system, and the argument which Cudworth opposed to Hobbes and Gassendi considerably more than a century ago.2 The following passage, from the writer last quoted, approaches so nearly to what Kant and other Germans have so often repeated of the distinction between subjective and objective truth, that I am tempted to connect it with the foregoing extract, as an additional proof that there are, at least, some metaphysical points, on which we need not search for instruction beyond our own island. “ If there were no other perceptive power, or faculty, distinct from external sense, all our perceptions would be merely relative, seeming, and fantastical, and not reach to the absolute and certain truth of any thing ; and every one would but, as Protagoras expounds,N 1

This is precisely the language of the German school: fC Les verites necessaires (says Leibnitz) sont le produit immediat de I’activite interieure.” (Tome I. p. 686. Tome II. pp. 42, 325. See Degerando, Hist. Comp. Tome II. p. 96.) 2 In the attempt, indeed, which Kant has made to enumerate all the general ideas which are not derived from experience, but arise out of the pure understanding, he may well lay claim to the praise of originality. On this subject I shall only refer my readers to Note (DD) at the end of this Dissertation. DISS. I. PART II., U

FIRST DISSERTATION.

154

“ think his own private and relative thoughts truths,” and all our cogitations being nothing but appearances, would be indifferently alike true phantasms, and one as another. “ But we have since also demonstrated, that there is another perceptive power in the soul superior to outward sense, and of a distinct nature from it, which is the power of knowing or understanding, that is, an active exertion from the mind itself.

And, there-

fore, has this grand eminence above sense, that it is no idiopathy, not a mere private, relative, seeming, and fantastical thing, but the comprehension of that which absolutely is and is not.”

1

After enlarging on the distinction between the sensitive faculty and the understanding, Kant proceeds to investigate certain essential conditions, without which neither the sensitive faculty nor its objects are conceivable.

These conditions are time and space, which,

in the language of Kant, are the forms of all phenomena.

What his peculiar ideas are

concerning their nature and attributes, my readers will find stated in his own words at the end of this Discourse, in an extract from one of his Latin publications.2 From that extract, I cannot promise them much instruction; but it will at least enable them to judge for themselves of the peculiar character of Kant’s metaphysical phraseology.

In the mean

time, it will be sufficient to mention here, for the sake of connection, that he denies the objective reality both of time and of space.

The former he considers merely as a subjective

condition, inseparably connected with the frame of the human mind, in consequence of which, it arranges sensible phenomena according to a certain law, in the order of succession.

As to the latter, he asserts, that it is nothing objective or real, inasmuch as it is

neither a substance, nor an accident, nor a relation ; that its existence, therefore, is only subjective and ideal, depending on a fixed law, inseparable from the frame of the human mind. In consequence of this law, we are led to conceive all external things as placed in space ; or (as Kant expresses it) we are led to consider space as the fundamental form of every external sensation. In selecting Kant’s speculations concerning tme and space, as a specimen of his mode of writing, I was partly influenced by the consideration, that it furnishes, at the same time, a remarkable example of the concatenation which exists between the most remote and seemingly the most unconnected parts of his system.

Who could suppose that his opi-

nions on these subjects, the most abstract and the most controverted of any in the whole compass of metaphysics, bore on the great practical question of the freedom of the Human Will ? 1 2

The combination appears, at first sight, so very extraordinary, that I have no

Immutable Morality, p. 264, et seq. See Note (EE.)

FJRST DISSERTATION.

155

doubt I shall gratify the curiosity of some of my readers by mentioning a few of the intermediate steps which, in this argument, lead from the premises to the conclusion. I hat Kant conceived the free agency of man to be necessarily implied in his moral nature (or, at least, that he was anxious to offer no violence to the common language of the world on this point), appears from his own explicit declarations in various parts of his works.

“ Voluntas libera (says he in one instance) eadem est cum voluntate legibus

moralibus obnoxia.’,

1

In all the accounts of Kant’s philosophy, which have yet appeared from the pens of his admirers in this country, particular stress is laid on the ingenuity with which he has unloosed this knot, which had baffled the wisdom of all his predecessors.

The following are

the words of one of his own pupils, to whom we are indebted for the first, and, I think, ot the least intelligible, view of his principles which has been published in our language.2 “ Professor Kant is decidedly of opinion, that, although many strong and ingenious arguments have been brought forward in favour of the freedom of the will, they are yet very far from being decisive.

Nor have they refuted the arguments urged by the Neces-

sitarians, but by an appeal to mere feeling, which, on such a question, is of no avail.

For

this purpose, it is indispensably necessary to call to our assistance the principles of Kant.” ' “ In treating this subject (continues the same author), Kant begins with showing that the notion of a Free Will is hot contradictory.

In proof of this he observes, that, al-

though every human action, as an event in time, must have a cause, and so on ad infinitum ; yet it is certain, that the laws of cause and effect can have a place there only where time is, for the effect must be consequent on the cause.

But neither time nor space are

properties of things; they are only the generalybms under which man is allowed to view himself and the world.

It follows, therefore, that man is not in time nor in space, al-

1

See Born's Latin Translation of Kant’s Works, relating to the Critical Philosophy, Vol. II. p. 325, el sett. See also the Preface to Vol. III. 2 ^ General and Introductory J iew of Professor Kant’s Principles concerning Man, the World, and the Deity, submitted to the consideration of the Learned, by F. A. Nitsch, late Lecturer on the Latin Language and Mathematics in the Royal Fredericianum College at Konigsberg, and pupil of Professor Kant. London, 1796. Pp. 172, 173. 1 his small performance is spoken of in terms highly favourable, by the other writers who have attempted to introduce Kant’s philosophy into England. It is called by Dr Willich an excellent publication {Elements of the Critical Philosophy, p. 62) ; and is pronounced by the author of the elaborate articles on that subject in the Encyclopaedia Londonensis to be a sterling work. “ Though at present very little known, I may venture (says this writer) to predict, that, as time rolls on, and prejudices moulder away, this work, like the Elements of Euclid, will stand forth as a lasting monument of pure truth.” See Note (FF.)

156

FIRST DISSERTATION.

though the forms of his intuitive ideas are time and space.

But if man exist not in time

and space, he is not influenced by the laws of time and space, among which those of cause and effect hold a distinguished rank ; it is, therefore, no contradiction to conceive, that, in such an order of things, man may be free.”

1

In this manner Kant establishes the possibility of man’s freedom ; and, farther than this, he does not conceive himself warranted to proceed on the principles of the critical philosophy.

The first impression, certainly, which his argument produces on the mind is,

that his own opinion was favourable to the scheme of necessity.

For if the reasonings of

the Necessitarians be admitted to be satisfactory, and if nothing can be opposed to them but the incomprehensible proposition, that man neither exists in space nor in time, the natural inference is, that this proposition was brought forward rather to save appearances, than as a serious objection to the universality of the conclusion. Here, however, Kant calls to his aid the principles of what he calls practical reason. Deeply impressed with a conviction that morality is the chief concern of man, and that morality and the freedom of the human will must stand or fall together, he exerts his ingenuity to show, that the metaphysical proof already brought of the possibility of freeagency, joined to our own consciousness of a liberty of choice, affoi ds evidence of the fact fully sufficient for the practical regulation of our conduct, although not amounting to what is represented as demonstration in the Critique (yf Pure Reason.

1

Nitsch, &c. pp. 174, 175. The account of this part of Kant’s doctrine given by M. Buhle agrees in substance with that of Mr Nitsch : “ ToUte moralite des actions repose uniquement sur la disposition practique, en tant qu’elle est determinee par la loi morale seule. Si Ton considere cette disposition comme phenomenedans la conscience; c’est un evenement naturel, elle obeit a la loi de la causalite, elle repose sur se que 1’homme a eprouve auparavant dans le terns, et elle fait partie du caractere empirique de 1’homme. Mais on pent aussi la considerer comme un acte de la liberte raisonnable : Alors elle n’est plus soumise a la loi de la causalite ; elle est independante de la condition du temps, elle se rapporte a une cause intelligible, la liberte, et elle fait partie du caractere intelligible de I’homme. On ne peut, a la verite, point acquerir la moindre connoissance des objets intelligibles; mais la liberte n’est pas moins un fait de la conscience. Done les actions exterieures sont indifferentes pour la moralite de I’homme. La bonte morale de I’homme consiste uniquement dans sa volonte moralement bonne, et celle-ci consiste en ce que la volonte soit determinee par la loi morale seule.” {Hist, de la Philosophic Moderne, par J. G. Buhle, Tom. VI. pp. 504, 505.) Very nearly to the same purpose is the following statement by the ingenious author of the article Leibnitz in the Biographic Universelle: “ Comment accorder le fatum et la liberte, 1’imputation morale et la dependence des etres finies ? Kant croit echapper a cet ecueil en ne soumettant a la loi de causalite (an deter minisme de Leibnitz) que le monde phenomenique, et en affranchissant de ce principe Tame comme noumene ou chose en soi, envisageant ainsi chaque action comme appartenant a un double serie a la fois; a 1’ordre physique ou elle est enchainee a ce qui precede et a ce qui suit par les liens communs de la nature, et 2

FIRST DISSERTATION.

157

It is impossible to combine together these two parts of the Kantian system, without being struck with the resemblance they bear to the deceitful sense of liberty to which Lord Karnes had recourse (in the first edition of his Essays on Morality and Natural Religion), in order to reconcile our consciousness of free-agency with the conclusions of the Necessitarians.

In both cases, the reader is left in a state of most uncomfortable

scepticism, not confined to this particular question, but extending to every other subject which can give employment to the human faculties.1 In some respects, the functions ascribed by Kant to his practical reason are analogous to those ascribed to common sense in the writings of Beattie and Oswald.

But his view

of the subject is, on the whole, infinitely more exceptionable than theirs, inasmuch as it sanctions the supposition, that the conclusions of 'pure reason are, in certain instances, at variance with that modification of reason which was meant by our Maker to be our guide in life; whereas the constant language of the other writers is, that all the different parts of our intellectual frame are in the most perfect harmony with each other.

The motto

which Beattie has prefixed to his book, “ Nunquam aliud natura, aliud sapientia dicit,” expresses, in a few significant words, the whole substance of his philosophy. It is to the same practical modification of reason that Kant appeals in favour of the existence of the Deity, and of a future state of retribution, both of which articles of belief he thinks derive the whole of their evidence from the moral nature of man.

His system,

therefore, as far as I am able to comprehend it, tends rather to represent these as useful credenda, than as certain or even as probable truths.

Indeed, the whole of his moral su-

perstructure will be found to rest ultimately on no better basis than the metaphysical conundrum, that the human mind (considered as a noumenon and not as a phenomenon) neither exists in space nor in time.

a 1’ordre morale, ou une determination produit un effet, sans que pour expliquer cette volition et son resultat, on soit renvoye a un etat antecedent.” The author of the above passage is M. Staffer, to whom we are indebted for the article Kant in the same work. For Kant’s own view of the subject consult his Critique of Pure Reason, passim, particularly p. 99, et seq. of Born’s Translation, Vol. III. 1 The idea of Kant (according to his own explicit avowal) was, that every being, which conceives itself to be free, whether it be in reality so or not, is rendered by its own belief a moral and accountable agent. “ Jam equidem dico: quaeque natura, quae non potest, nisi sub idea libertatis agere, propter id ipsum, respectu practice, reipsa libera est; hoc est, ad earn valent cunctae leges, cum libertate arctissime conjunctae.

1.58

FIRST DISSERTATION.

That it was Kant’s original aim to establish a system of scepticism, I am far from being disposed to think.1

The probability is, that he began with a serious wish to refute the

doctrines of Hume ; and that, in the progress of his inquiries, he met with obstacles of which he was not aware.

It was to remove these obstacles that he had recourse to prac-

tical reason; an idea which has every appearance of being an afterthought, very remote from his views when he first undertook his work.

This, too, would seem, from the fol-

lowing passage (which I translate from Degerando), to have been the opinion of one of Kant’s ablest German commentators, M. Reinhold : “ Practical Reason (as Reinhold ingeniously observes) is a wing which Kant has prudently added to his edifice, from a sense of the inadequacy of the original design to answer the intended purpose.

It bears a mani-

fest resemblance to what some philosophers call an appeal to sentiment, founding belief on the necessity of acting.

Whatever contempt Kant may affect for popular systems of phi-

losophy, this manner of considering the subject is not unlike the disposition of those who, feeling their inability to obtain, by the exercise of their reason, a direct conviction of their religious creed, cling to it nevertheless with a blind eagerness, as a support essential to their morals and their happiness.”

(Hist. Comparee, Vol. II. pp. 243, 244.)

The extraordinary impression produced for a considerable time in Germany, by the Critique of Pure Reason, is very shrewdly, and I suspect justly, accounted for by the writer last quoted : “ The system of Kant wras well adapted to flatter the weaknesses of the hu-

perinde, ac voluntas ejus etiara per se ipsam, et in philosopliia theoretica probata, libera declaretur.” (Kantii Opera, Vol. II. p. 326.) This is also the creed professed by the Abbe Galiani, a much more dangerous moralist than Kant, because he is always intelligible, and often extremely lively and amusing. “ L’homme est done libre, puisqu’il est intimement persuade de I’etre, et que cela vaut tout autant que la liberte. Voila done le mechanisme de Vunivers explique clair comme de I’eau de roche.’’ The same author farther remarks, “ La persuasion de la liberte constitue 1’essence de I’homme. On pourroit meme definir 1’homme tin animal qui se croit libre, et ce seroit une definition complete.” (Correspondance inedite de V Abbe Galiani, Tome I. pp. 339, 340. A Paris, 1818.) 1 On the contrary, he declares explicitly (and I give him full credit for the sincerity of his words), that he considered his Critique of Pure Reason as the only effectual antidote against the opposite extremes of scepticism and of superstition, as well as against various heretical doctrines which at present infect the schools of philosophy. “ Hac igitur sola (Pkilosophia Criticd) et materialism!, et fatalismi, et Atheismi, et diffidentiae prpfanae, et fanatismi, et superstitionis, quorum virus ad universos potest penetrare, tandemque etiam et idealismi, et scepticismi, qui magis scholis sunt pestiferi, radices ipsae possunt praecidi.” (Kant, Prof- Posterior, p, xxxv.) H

FIRST DISSERTATION. man mind. befoie. doctrine.

159

Curiosity was excited, by seeing paths opened which had never been trodden

The love of mystery found a secret charm in the obscurity which enveloped the 1 he long and troublesome period of initiation was calculated to rouse the am-

bition of bold and adventurous spirits.

Their love of singularity was gratified by the new

nomenclature ; while their vanity exulted in the idea of being admitted into a privileged sect, exercising, and entitled to exercise, the supreme censorship in philosophy.

Even men of

the most ordinary parts, on finding themselves called to so high functions, lost sight of their real mediocrity, and conceived themselves transformed into geniuses destined to form a new era in the history of reason. “ Another inevitable effect resulted from the universal change operated by Kant in his terms, in his classifications, in his methods, and in the enunciation of his problems.

The

intellectual powers of the greater part of the initiated were too much exhausted in the course of their long noviciate, to be qualified to judge soundly of the doctrine itself.

They

felt themselves, after so many windings, lost in a labyrinth, and were unable to dispense with the assistance of the guide who had conducted them so far.

Others, after so great a

sacrifice, wanted the courage to confess to the world, or to themselves, the disappointment they had met with.

They attached themselves to the doctrine in proportion to the sacri-

fice they had made, and estimated its value by the labour it had cost them.

As for more

superficial thinkers, they drew an inference from the novelty of the form in favour of the novelty of the matter, and from the novelty of the matter in favour of its importance. “ 11 18 3 great a Pa" negyric on the critical phdosophy is quoted from a work with which I am unacquainted, Fred. Gottlob Bornii de Scientia et Conjectura. 2 On this subject, see Degerando, Tom. II. p. 333. 3 See Degerando, and de Bonald. 4 The words in the original are, “ Un degout generale de toute doctrine. But as tie s^tl® ^r°1 ^ trine is, in a former part of the same sentence, applied to the systems of Leibnitz and of Wolff, I have tt e doubt, that, in substituting for doctrine the phrase systematical creeds, I have faithfully rendered the meaning of my author. (See Recherches Philosophiques, par M. de Bonald, Tom. I. pp- 43, 44.) „ . _ ‘ The passion of the Germans for systems is a striking feature in their literary taste, and is sufficient of itself to show, that they have not yet passed their noviciate in philosophy. “ To all such (says i aclaurin) as have just notions of the Great Author of the universe, and of his admirable workmans ip, all complete and finished systems must appear very suspicious.” At the time when re wrote, sue systems had not wholly lost their partisans in England; and the name of System continued to be a favourite title for a book even among writers of the highest reputation. Hence the System of Moral Philosophy b> 13

FIRST DISSERTATION.

161

To these details, I have only to add a remark of Degerando’s, which I have found amply confirmed within the circle of my own experience.

It might furnish matter for

some useful reflections, but I shall leave my readers to draw their own conclusions from it.

“ Another remarkable circumstance is, that the defence of the Kantians turned, in

general, not upon the truth of the disputed proposition, but upon the right interpretation of their master’s meaning, and that their^reply to all objections has constantly begun and ended with these words, You have not understood us.” Among the various schools which have emanated from that of Kant, those of Fichte and Schelling seem to have attracted among their countrymen the greatest number of proselytes.

Of neither am I able to speak from my own knowledge; nor can I annex any dis-

tinct idea to the accounts which are given of their opinions by others.

Of Fichte’s spe-

culations about the philosophical import of the pronoun I (Qu'est-ce que le moi ? as Degerando translates the question), I cannot make any thing.

In some of his remarks, he

approaches to the language of those Cartesians who, in the progress of their doubts, ended in absolute egoism

but the e^o

of Fichte has a creative power.

It creates eocistence

and it creates science; two things (by the way) which, according to him, are one and the same.

Even my own existence, he tells me, commences only with the reflex act, by which

I think of the pure and primitive ego.

On this identity of the intelligent ego and the

existing ego (which Fichte expresses by the formula ego = ego) all science ultimately rests. •—But on this part of his metaphysics it would be idle to enlarge, as the author acknowledges, that it is not to be understood without the aid of a certain transcendental sense, the want of which is wholly irreparable; a singular admission enough (as Degerando observes), on the part of those critical philosophers who have treated with so much contempt the appeal to Common Sense in the writings of some of their predecessors.2

Hutcheson, and the Complete System of Optics by Smith, titles which, when compared with the subsequent progress of these two sciences, reflect some degree of ridicule upon their authors. When this affectation of systematical method began, in consequence of the more enlarged views of philosophers, to give way to that aphoristical style so strongly recommended and so happily exemplified by Lord Bacon, we find some writers of the old school complaining of the innovation, in terms not unlike those in which the philosophy of the English has been censured by some German critics. “ The best way (says Dr Watts) to learn any science, is to begin with a regular system. Now (he continues), we deal much in essays, and unreasonably despise systematical learning; whereas our fathers had a just value for regularity and systems.” Had Dr Watts lived a few years later, I doubt not that his good sense would have led him to retract these hasty and inconsiderate decisions. 1 In order to avoid the intolerable awkwardness of such a phrase as the I, I have substituted on this occasion the Latin pronoun for the English one. Hist. Comparee, &c. Tome II. pp. 300, SOL See also the article Fichte in this Supplement. DISS. I. PART II. X

FIRST DISSERTATION.

162

“ In the history of beings there are (according to Fichte) three grand epochs ; the first belongs to the empire of chance ; the second is the reign of nature ; the third ■will be the epoch^of the existence of God. preparing to exist.

For God does not exist yet; he only manifests himself as

Nature tends to an apotheosis, and may be regarded as a sort of

divinity in the germ.”

1

The account given by Madame de Stael of this part of Fichte’s system is considerably different: “ He was heard to say, upon one occasion, that in his next lecture he ‘ was going to create God,’—an expression which, not without reason, gave general offence.

His

meaning was, that he intended to show how the idea of God arose and unfolded itself in the mind of man.”

2

How far this apology is well-founded, I am not competent to judge.

The system of Schelling is, in the opinion of Degerando, but an extension of that of Fichte ; connecting with it a sort of Spinozism grafted on Idealism.

In considering the

primitive ego as the source of all reality as well as of all science, and in thus transporting the mind into an intellectual region, inaccessible to men possessed only of the ordinary number of senses, both agree ; and to this vein of transcendental mysticism may probably be ascribed the extraordinary enthusiasm with which their doctrines appear to have been received by the German youth.

Since the time when Degerando wrote, a new and very

unexpected revolution is said to have taken place among Schelling’s disciples; many of them, originally educated in the Protestant faith, having thrown themselves into the bosom of the Catholic church3

“ The union of the faithful of this school forms an invi-

i Hist. Compares, &c. Tome II. p. 314. The doctrine here ascribed to Fichte by Degerando, although its unparalleled absurdity might well excite some doubts about the correctness of the historian, is not altogether a novelty in -the history of philosophy. It is in point of fact nothing more than a return to those gross conceptions of the mind in the infancy of human reason, which Mr Smith has so well described in the following passage: “ In the first ages of the world, the seeming incoherence of the appearances of nature so confounded mankind, that they despaired of discovering in her operations any regular system...... Their gods, though they were apprehended to interpose upon some particular occasions, were so far from being regarded as the creators of the world, that their origin was apprehended to be posterior to that of the world. The earth (according to Hesiod) was the first production of the chaos. The heavens arose out of the earth, and from both together, all the gods who afterwards inhabited them. Nor was this notion confined to the vulgar, and to those poets who seem to have recorded the vulgar theology I he same notion of the spontaneous origin of the world was embraced (as Aristotle tells us) by the early Pythagoreans. .. Mind, and understanding, and consequently Deity, being the most perfect, were necessarily, according to them, the last productions of nature. For, in all other things, what was most perfect, they observed, always came last: As in plants and animals, it is not the seed that is most perfect, but the compete animal, with all its members in the one ; and the complete plant, with all its branches, leaves, flowers, and fruits, in the other.”—Smith’s Post. Essays on Philosophical Subjects, pp. 106, 107. 2 De i’Allemagr e. Tome III. p. 107* Londres, 1813. 2 See a paper by M. G. Schweighauser in the London Monthly Magazine for 1804, p. 207-

163

FIRST DISSERTATION*

sible church, which has adopted for its symbol and watch-word, the Virgin Mary; and hence rosaries are sometimes to be seen in the hands of those who reckon Spinoza among the greatest prophets.,,

It is added, however, with respect to this invisible church, that

“ its members have embraced the Catholic religion, not as the true religion, but as the most poetical ” a thing not improbable among a people who have so strong a disposition to mingle together poetry and metaphysics in the same compositions.1

But it is painful

to contemplate these sad aberrations of human reason j nor would I have dwelt on them so long as I have done, had I not been anxious to convey to my readers a general, but 1 trust not unfaithful, idea of the style and spirit of a philosophy, which, within the short period of our recollection, rose, flourished, and fell; and which, in every stage of its history, furnished employment to the talents of some of the most learned and able of our contemporaries.2 The space which I have allotted to Kant has so far exceeded what I intended he should occupy, that I must pass over the names of many of his countrymen much more worthy of public attention.

In the account given by Degerando of the opponents to the

Kantian system, some remarks are quoted from different writers, which convey a very favourable idea of the works from which they are borrowed.

Among these I would more

particularly distinguish those ascribed to Jacobi and to Reinhold.

In the Memoirs, too,

of the Berlin Academy, where (as Degerando justly observes) the philosophy of Locke found an asylum, while banished from the rest of Germany, there is a considerable number of metaphysical articles of the highest merit.0

1

Nor must I omit to mention the con-

“ Aussi les Allemands melent ilstrop souvent la Metaphysique a la Poesie.” (Allemagne, Vol. III. p. 133.) “ Nothing (says Mr Hume) is more dangerous to reason than the flights of imagination, and nothing has been the occasion of more mistakes among philosophers. Men of bright fancies may, in this respect, be compared to those angels, whom the scripture represents as covering their eyes with their wings.” {Treatise of Human Nature, Vol. I. p. 464.') 2 According to a French writer, who appears to have resided many years in Germany, and who ha.enlivened a short Essay on the Elements of Philosophy with many curious historical details concerning Kant and his successors,—both Fichte and Schelling owed much of their reputation to the uncommon eloquence displayed in their academical lectures : Cette doctrine sortait de la bouche de Fichte, revetu de ces ornemens qui donnent la jeunesse, la beaut6 et la force au discours. On ne se lassait point en I’ecoutank” Of Schelling he expresses himself thus : “ Schelling, appele a I’universite de Wirzbourg, y attira par sa reputation un concours nombreux d’auditeurs, qu’il enchainait a ses legons par la richesse de sa diction et par 1’etendue de ses connoissances. De la, il est venu a Munich, ou je le revis en 1813. On dit qu’il a embrasse la religion Catholique.” {Essai sur les Elemens de la Philosophic, par G. Gley, Principal au College d’Alengon. Paris, 1817* pp* 152, 138.) 3 In a volume of this collection (for the year 1797), which happens to be now lying before me, there

FIRST DISSERTATION.

164

tributions to this science by the university of Goettingen; more especially on questions connected with the philosophy of language.

I have great pleasure, also, in acknow-

ledging the entertainment I have received, and the lights I have borrowed from the learned labours of Meiners and of Herder; but none of these are so closely connected with the history of metaphysics as to justify me in entering into particular details with respect to them.

I am ashamed to say that, in Great Britain, the only one of these names which

has been much talked of is that of Kant, a circumstance which, I trust, willapologize for the length to which the foregoing observations have extended.

1

The only other country of Europe from which any contributions to metaphysical philosophy could be reasonably looked for, during the eighteenth century, is Italy ; and to this particular branch of science I do not know that any Italian of much celebrity has, in these later times, turned his attention.

The metaphysical works of Cardinal Gerdil (a native

of Savoy) are extolled by some French writers; but none of them have ever happened to fall in my way.2

At a more recent period, Genovesi, a Neapolitan philosopher

3

(best known as a political economist), has attracted a good deal of notice by some metaphysical publications.

Their chief object is said to be to reconcile, as far as possible, the

opinions of Leibnitz with those of Locke.

“ Pendant que Condillac donnait inutilement

are three profound and important Memoirs on Probabilities, by M. Prevost and M. I’Huillier. Neither of these authors, I am aware, is of German origin, but as the Academy of Berlin has had the merit to bring their papers before the public, I could not omit this opportunity of recommending them to the attention of my readers. To a very important observation made by MM. Prevost and 1’Huillier, which has been the subject of some dispute, I am happy to avail myself of the same opportunity to express my unqualified assent. (See pp. 15 and 31 of the memoirs belonging to the Classe de Philosophic Speculative.) 1 See Note (GG.) 2 His two first publications, which were directed against the philosophy of Locke (if we may judge from their titles), are not likely, in the present times, to excite any curiosity. 1. The Immateriality of the. Soul Demonstrated against Mr Locke, on the same Principles on which this Philosopher has Demonstrated the Existence and the Immateriality of God. Turin, 1747. 2. Defence of the Opinion of Malebranche, on the Nature and Origin of our Ideas, against the Examination of Mr Locke. Turin, 1748. The only other works of Gerdil which I have seen referred to are, A Dissertation on the Incompatibility of the Principles of Descartes with those of Spinoza; and A Refutation of some Principles maintained in the Emile of Rousseau. Of this last performance, Rousseau is reported to have said, “ Voila Vunique ecrit public contre moi que j'aie trouve digne d’etre lu en entier.” (Nouveau Diet. Hist, article Gerdil.) In the same article, a reference is made to a public discourse of the celebrated M. Mairan, of the Academy of Sciences, in which he pronounces the following judgment on Gerdil’s metaphysical powers : “ Gerdil porte avec hi dans tons ces discours un esprit geometrique, qui manque trop souvent aux geometres mernes.'’ 3 8 Born 1712, died 1769-

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des lecons a un Prince (PItalie, Genovesi en donnait avec plus de succes a ses eleves Napolitans : il combinait le mieux qu’il lui etoit possible les theories de Leibnitz, pour lequel il eut toujours une prevention favorable, avec celle de Locke, qu’il accredita le premier en Italie.”

1

Various other works of greater or less celebrity, from Italian authors, seem to

announce a growing taste in that part of Europe for these abstract researches. The names of Francisco Soave, of Biagioli, and of Mariano Gigli, are advantageously mentioned by their countrymen ; but none of their works, as far as I can learn, have yet reached Scotland.

Indeed, with the single exception of Boscovich, I recollect no writer on the other

side of the Alps, whose metaphysical speculations have been heard of in this island. This is the more to be regretted, as the specimens he has given, both of originality and soundness in some of his abstract discussions, convey a very favourable idea of the schools in which he received his education.

The authority to which he seems most inclined to

lean is that of Leibnitz j but, on all important questions he exercises his own judgment, and often combats Leibnitz with equal freedom and success.

Remarkable instances of

this occur in his strictures on the principle of the sufficient reason, and in the limitations with which he has admitted the law of continuity. The vigour, and, at the same time, the versatility of talents, displayed in the voluminous works of this extraordinary man, reflect the highest honour on the country which gave

1

Revue Encyclopedique, on Analyse Raisonnte des Productions les plus Remarquables dans la Literature, les Sciences, ei les Arts. I. Vol. 3me livraison, p. 515. Paris, Mars 1819. (The writer of the article quoted in the text is M. Sarpi, an Italian by birth, who, after having distinguished himself by various publications in his own country, has now (if I am not mistaken) fixed his residence at Paris. In his own philosophical opinions, he seems to be a follower of Condillac’s school, otherwise he would scarcely have spoken so highly as he has done of the French Ideologists: “ LTdeologie qui, d’apres sa denomination recente pourrait etre consideree comme specialement due aux Frangais, mais qui est aussi ancienne que la philosophic, puisqu’elle a pour objet la generation des idees et Panalyse des facultes qui concourent a leur formation, n est pas etrangere aux Italiens, comme on pourrait le croire.”) Genovesi is considered, by an historian of high reputation, as the reformer of Italian philosophy. If the execution of his Treatise on Logic corresponds at all to the enlightened views with which the design seems to have been conceived, it cannot fail to be a work of much practical utility. « Ma chi puo veramente dirsi il riformatore dell Italiana filosofia, chi la fece tosto conoscere, e respettare da’ pui dotti filosofi delle altre nazioni, chi seppe arricchire di nuovi pregi la logica, la metafisica, e la morale, fu il celebre Genovesi. Tuttoche molti fossero stati i filosofi che cercarono con sottili riflessioni, e giusti precetti d’ajutare la mente a pensare ed a ragionare con esattezza e verita, e Bacone, Malebranche, Loke, Wolfio, e molt’ altri sembrassero avere esaurito quanto v'era da scrivere su tale arte, seppe nondimeno il Genovesi trovare nuove osservazioni, e nuovi avvertimenti da preporre, e dare una logica piu piena e compiuta, e piu utile non solo a o studio della filosofia, e generalmente ad ogni studio scientifico, ma eziandio alia condotta morale, ed alia civile society.” (Dell’ Origine, de Progressi, e dello Stato attuale d’Ogni Letteratura dell’ Abate D. Giovanni Andres. Tomo XV. pp. 260, 26l. Venezia, 1800.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

166

him birth, and would almost tempt one to give credit to the theory which ascribes to the genial climates of the south a beneficial influence on the intellectual frame.

Italy is cer-

tainly the only part of Europe where mathematicians and metaphysicians of the highest rank have produced such poetry as has proceeded from the pens of Boscovich and Stay. It is in this rare balance of imagination, and of the reasoning powers, that the perfection of the human intellect will be allowed to consist; and of this balance a far greater number of instances may be quoted from Italy (reckoning from Galileo' downwards), than in any other corner of the learned world. The sciences of ethics, and of political economy, seem to be more suited to the taste of the modem Italians, than logic or metaphysics, properly so called.

And in the two former

branches of knowledge, they have certainly contributed much to the instruction and improvement of the eighteenth century.

But on these subjects we are not yet prepared to enter-

In the New World, the state of society and of manners has not hitherto been so favourable to abstract science as to pursuits which come home directly to the business of human life.

There is, however, one metaphysician of whom America has to boast, who,

in logical acuteness and subtility, does not yield to any disputant bred in the universities of Europe.

I need not say, that I allude to Jonathan Edwards.

But, at the time when

he wrote, the state of America was more favourable than it now is, or can for a long period be expected to be, to such inquiries as those which engaged his attention ; inquiries (by the way) to which his thoughts were evidently turned, less by the impulse of speculative curiosity, than by his anxiety to defend the theological system in which he had been educated, and to which he was most conscientiously and zealously attached.

The effect of

this anxiety in sharpening his faculties, and in keeping his polemical vigilance constantly on the alert, may be traced in every step of his argument.2

1 See a most interesting account of Galileo's taste for poetry and polite literature in Gmguene, Histone 1 Mfraired’Italic. Tome V. pp. 331, rf .«??■ a Paris, 1812. ' 3 While this Dissertation was in the press, I received a new American publicafon, entitled ‘■/r««suctions of Ike Historical and Literary Committee of the American Philosophucal Society, held at for Promoting Useful Knowledge," Vol. I. (Philadelphia, 1819.) From an advertisement prefixed to h.s f \ it annears that at a meeting ofthis learned body in 1815, it was resolved, “ That a new committee 1-e ulded to those already established, to be denominated the Committee of History, Moral Science, and l e-ieral Literature.” It was with great pleasure I observed, that one of the first objects to which re committee has directed its attention is to investigate and ascertain, as much i^ss^ • 1C TpIvo lino-nafTPs of the aboriginal nations of America. I he lieport ot tne coirespomi fnTsecrc^ry (M^Duponceau), dated January 1819, with respect to the progress then made in this investigatiom is hfghly curious and interesting, and displays not only enlarged and philosophical views, but

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In the mean time, a new and unexpected mine of intellectual wealth has been opened to the learned of Europe* in those regions of the East, which, although in all probability the cradle of civilization and science, were, till very lately, better known in the annals of commerce than of philosophy.

The metaphysical and ethical remains of the Indian

sages are, in a peculiar degree, interesting and instructive ; inasmuch as they seem to have furnished the germs of the chief systems taught in the Grecian schools.

The favourite

theories, however, of the Hindoos will, all of them, be found, more or less, tinctured with those ascetic habits of abstract and mystical meditation which seem to have been, in all ages, congenial to their constitutional temperament.

Of such habits, an Idealism, ap-

proaching to that of Berkeley and Malebranche, is as natural an offspring, as Materialism is of the gay and dissipated manners, which, in great and luxurious capitals, are constantly inviting the thoughts abroad. To these remains of ancient science in the East, the attention of Europe was first called by Bernier, a most intelligent and authentic traveller, of whom I formerly took notice as a favourite pupil of Gassendi.

But it is chiefly by our own countrymen that the field

which he opened has been subsequently explored ; and of their meritorious labours in the prosecution of this task, during the reign of our late Sovereign, it is scarcely possible to form too high an estimate. Much more, however, may be yet expected, if such a prodigy as Sir William Jones should again appear, uniting, in as miraculous a degree, the gift of tongues with the spirit of philosophy.

The structure of the Sanscrit, in itself, independently of the treasures

locked up in it, affords one of the most puzzling subjects of inquiry that was ever presented to human ingenuity.

The affinities and filiations of different tongues, as evinced

intimate acquaintance with the philological researches of Adelung, Vater, Humboldt, and other German scholars. All this evinces an enlightened curiosity, and an extent of literary information, which could scarcely have been expected in these rising states for many years to come. I he rapid progress which the Americans have lately made in the art of writing lias been remarked bv various critics, and it is certainly a very important fact in the history of their literature. Their state papers were, indeed, always distinguished by a strain of animated and vigorous eloquence; but as most of them were composed on the spur of the occasion, their authors had little time to bestow on the niceties, or even upon the purity of diction. An attention to these is the slow offspring of learned leisure, and of the diligent study of the best models. This I presume was Gray’s meaning, when he said, that “ good writing not only required great parts, but the very best of those parts* a maxim which, if true, would point out the state of the public taste with respect to style, as the surest test among any people of the general improvement which their intellectual powers have received; and which, when applied to our Trans-atlantic brethren, would justify sanguine expectations of the attainments of the rising generation. * Note of Mason on a Letter of Gray’s to Dr Wharton, on the death of Dr Middleton,

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in their corresponding roots and other coincidences, are abundantly curious, but incomparably more easy in the explanation, than the systematical analogy which is said to exist between the Sanscrit and the Greek (and also between the Sanscrit and the Latin, which is considered as the most ancient dialect of the Greek), in the conjugations and flexions of their verbs, and in many other particulars of their mechanism ; an analogy which is represented as so complete, that, in the versions which have been made from the one language into the other, “ Sanscrit,” we are told, “ answers to Greek, as face to face in a glass.” I That the Sanscrit did not grow up to the perfection which it now exhibits, from popular and casual inodes of speech, the unexampled regularity of its forms seems almost to demonstrate; and yet, should this supposition be rejected, to what other hypothesis shall we have recourse, which does not involve equal, if not greater improbabilities?

The problem is

well worthy of the attention of philosophical grammarians ; and the solution of it, whatever it may be, can scarcely fail to throw some new lights on the history of the human race, as well as on that of the human mind.

SECTION VIII. Metaphysical Philosophy of Scotland. It now only remains for me to take a slight survey of the rise and progress of the Metaphysical Philosophy of Scotland; and if, in treating of this, I should be somewhat more minute than in the former parts of this Historical Sketch, I flatter myself that allowances will be made for my anxiety to supply some chasms in the literary history of my country, which could not be so easily, nor perhaps so authentically, filled up by a younger hand.

The Metaphysical Philosophy of Scotland, and, indeed, the literary taste in general, which so remarkably distinguished this country during the last century, may be dated from the lectures of Dr Francis Hutcheson, in the University of Glasgow.

Strong indications

2

of the same speculative spirit may be traced in earlier writers ; but it was from this period

1

Letter from the Reverend David Brown, Provost of the College of Fort-William, about the Sanscrit Edition of the Gospels (dated Calcutta, September 1806, and published in some of the Literary Journals of the day). ? See Note (HH.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

169

that Scotiand, after a long slumber, began again to attract general notice in the republic of letters.

1

The writings of Dr Hutcheson, however, are more closely connected with the history of Ethical than of Metaphysical Science ; and I shall, accordingly, delay any remarks which I have to offer upon them till I enter upon that part of my subject.

There are, indeed,

some very original and important metaphysical hints scattered over his works; but it is chiefly as an ethical writer that he is known to the world, and that he is entitled to a place among the philosophers of the eighteenth century.2

1 An Italian writer of some note, in a work published in 1763, assigns the same date to the revival of letters m Scotland. “ Fra i tanti, e si chiari Scrittori che fiorirono nella Gran Bretagna a tempi della Regina Anna, non se ne conta pur uno, che sia uscito di Scozia Francesco Hutcheson venuto in Iscozia a professaryi la Filosofia, e gli studii di umanitd, nella Universita di Glasgow, v’insinuo per tutto il paese colie istruzione a viva voce, e con egregie opere date alle stampe, un vivo genio per gli studii filosofici e hterarii, e sparse qui fecondissimi semi, donde vediamo nascere si felice frutti, e si copiose.” (Discwso sopra le Vicende della Litteratura, del Sig. Carlo Denina, p. 224, Glasgow edit. 1763.) I was somewhat surprised to meet with the foregoing observations in the work of a foreigner, but, wherever he acquired his information, it evinces, in those from whom it was derived, a more intimate acquaintance with the traditionary history of letters in this country than has fallen to the share of most of our own aut ors who have treated of that subject. I have heard it conjectured, that the materials of his section on Scottish literature had been communicated to him by Mr Hume. Another foreign writer, much better qualified than Denina to appreciate the merits of Hutcheson has expressed himself upop this subject with his usual precision. “ Decole Ecossaise a en quelque sorte pour fondateur Hutcheson maitre et predecesseur de Smith. C’est ce philosophe qui lui a imprime son caractere et qui a commence 4 lui donner de 1’eclat.” In a note upon this passage, the author observes,—" C’est en ce seul sens qu’on peut donner un chef 4 une ecole de philosophic qui, comme on le verra, professe d’ailleurs a p us parfaite mdependance de Fautorite.’’—(See the excellent reflections upon the posthumous works of Adam bmith, annexed by M. Prevost to his translation of that work.) Dr Hutcheson’s first course of lectures at Glasgow was given in 1730. He was a native of Ireland and is accordingly called by Denina “ un dotto Irlandesebut he was of Scotch extraction (his father or grandfather having been a younger son of a respectable family in Ayrshire), and he was sent over when very young to receive his education in Scotland. * One of the chief objects of Hutcheson’s writings was to oppose the licentious system of Mandeville • a system which was the natural offspring of some of Locke's reasonings against the existence of innate pric1 tical principles. , As a moralist, Hutcheson wasa warm admirer of the ancients, and seems to have been particularly smitten , ‘ “™Ur,te doctrlne of the Socratic sch°ol which identifies the good with tile beautiful Hence he was led to follow much too closely the example of Shaftesbury, in considering moral distinctions as founded more on sentiment than on reason, and to speak vaguely of virtue as a sort of -nolle enthusiasm ; but he was led, a the same time, to connect with his ethical speculations some collateral inquiries concerning Beauty and Harmony, ,n which he pursued, with considerable success, the path recently struck out by Addison in is Essays „„ the Pleasures of the Imagination. These inquiries of Hutcheson, together with his Thoughts S b eVe ryhigh y PriZed f r their de an enlarged and mind, may have been elsewhere, certainly 7cultivated V Tand, , whatever , ' ° their effects P*, bear everywhere the contrimarks J DISS. I. PART II. y

FIRST DISSERTATION.

170

Among the contemporaries of Dr Hutcheson, there was one Scottish metaphysician (Andrew Baxter, author of the Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul), whose name it would be improper to pass over without some notice, after the splendid eulogy bestowed on his work by Warburton.

“ He who would see the justest and precisest notions of

God and the soul may read this book, one of the most finished of the kind, in my humble opinion, that the present times, greatly advanced in true philosophy, have produced.”

1

To this unqualified praise, I must confess, I do not think Baxter’s Inquiry altogether entitled, although I readily acknowledge that it displays considerable ingenuity, as well as learning.

Some of the remarks on Berkeley’s argument against the existence of matter

are acute and just, and, at the time when they were published, had the merit of novelty. One of his distinguishing doctrines is, that the Deity is the immediate agent in producing the phenomena of the Material World; but that, in the Moral World, the case is different,-a doctrine which, whatever may be thought of it in other respects, is undoubtedly a great improvement on that of Malebranche, which, by representing God as the only agent in the universe, was not less inconsistent than the scheme of Spinoza with the moral nature of Man. of it.

“ The Deity (says Baxter) is not only at the head of Nature, but in every pan

A chain of material causes betwixt the Deity and the effect produced, and much

more a series of them, is such a supposition as would conceal the Deity from the kno wledge of mortals for ever.

We might search for matter above matter, till we were lost in a la-

byrinth out of which no philosopher ever yet found his way.—This way of bringing in second causes is borrowed from the government of the moral world, where free agents act a part; but it is very improperly applied to the material universe, where matter and motion only (or mechanism, as it is called) comes in competition with the Deity.” ' Notwithstanding, however, these and other merits, Baxter has contributed so little to the advancement of that philosophy which has since been cultivated in Scotland, that I am afraid the very slight notice I have now taken of him may be considered as an unseasonable digression.

The great object of his studies plainly was, to strengthen the old ar-

gument for the soul’s immateriality, by the new lights furnished by Newton’s discoveries.

bated powerfully, in our Northern seats of learning, to introduce a taste for more liberal and elegant pursuits than could have been expected so soon to succeed to the intolerance, bigotry, and barbarism o . e preceding century. 1 See Warburton'’s Divine Legation of Moses demonstrated, p. 395 of the first edition. 2 Appendix to the first part of the Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, pp- 109, 110.

m

FIRST DISSERTATION.

To the intellectual and moral phenomena of Man, and to the laws by which they are regulated, he seems to have paid but little attention. 5

While Dr Hutcheson’s reputation as an author, and still more as an eloquent teacher,

was at its zenith in Scotland, Mr Hume began his literary career, by the publication of his Treatise of Human Nature.

It appeared in 1739, but seems at that time to

have attracted little or no attention from the public. self, “ never literary attempt was more unfortunate.

According to the author himIt fell dead-born from the press,

without reaching such distinction as even to excite a murmur among the zealots.”

It

forms, however, a very important link in this Historical Sketch, as it has contributed, either directly or indirectly, more than any other single work, to the subsequent progress of the Philosophy of the Human Mind.

In order to adapt his principles better to the public

taste, the author afterwards threw them into the more popular form of Essays; but it is in the original work that philosophical readers will always study his system, and it is there alone that the relations and bearings of its different parts, as well as its connection with the speculations of his immediate predecessors, can be distinctly traced.

It is there, too, that

his metaphysical talents appear, in my opinion, to the greatest advantage; nor am I certain that he has anywhere else displayed more skill or a sounder taste in point of composition.

2

1 Baxter was born at Old Aberdeen, in 1686 or 1687, and died at Whittingham, in East Lothian, in 1750. I have not been able to discover the date of the first edition of his Inquiry into the Nature of the Human Soul, but the second edition appeared in 1737, two years before the publication of Mr Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature. 2 A gentleman, who lived in habits of great intimacy with Dr Reid towards the close of his life, and on whose accuracy I can fully depend, remembers to have heard him say repeatedly, that “ Mr Hume, in his Essays, appeared to have forgotten his Metaphysics:' Nor will this supposition be thought improbable, if, in addition to the subtle and fugitive nature of the subjects canvassed in the Treatise of Human Nature, it be considered that long before the publication of his Essays, Mr Hume had abandoned all his metaphysical researches. In proof of this, I shall quote a passage from a letter of his to Sir Gilbert Elliot, which, though without a date, seems from its contents to have been written about 1750 or 1751. 1 he passage is interesting on another account, as it serves to show how much Mr Hume undervalued the utility of mathematical learning, and consequently how little he was aware of its importance, as an organ of physical discovery, and as the foundation of some of the most necessary arts of civilized life. “ I am sorry that our correspondence should lead us into these abstract speculations. I have thought, and read, and composed very little on such questions of late. Morals, politics, and literature, have employed all my time; but still the other topics I must think more curious, important, entertaining, and useful, than any geometry that is deeper than Euclid.” I have said that it is in Mr Hume’s earliest work that his metaphysical talents appear, in my opinion, to the greatest advantage. From the following advertisement, however, prefixed in the latest editions of his works to the second volume of his Essays and Treatises, Mr Hume himsdf would appear to have thought differently. “ Most of the principles and reasonings contained in this volume were published in a work in three

172

FIRST DISSERTATION.

The great objects of Mr Hume’s Treatise of Human Nature will be best explained in his own words. “ ’Tis evident that all the sciences have a relation, greater or less, to human nature, and that, however wdde any of them may seem to run from it, they still return back by one passage or another.

Even Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Natural Religion, are

in some measure dependent on the science of Man, since they lie under the cognizance of men, and are judged of by their powers and faculties

If, therefore, the

sciences of Mathematics, Natural Philosophy, and Natural Religion, have such a dependence on the knowledge of man, what may be expected in the other sciences, whose connection with human nature is more close and intimate ? The sole end of logic is to explain the principles and operations of our reasoning faculty, and the nature of our ideas : Morals and criticism regard our tastes and sentiments, and politics consider men as united in society, and dependent on each other

Here, then, is the only expedient from

volumes, called A Treatise of Human Nature ; a work which the author had projected before he left College, and which he wrote and published not long after. But not finding it successful, he was sensible of his error in going to the press too early, and he cast the whole anew in the following pieces, where some negligencies in his former reasoning, and some in the expression, are, he hopes, corrected. Yet several writers, who have honoured the author’s philosophy with answers, have taken care to direct all their batteries against that juvenile work, which the author never acknowledged, and have affected to triumph in any advantage which they imagined they had obtained over it; a practice very contrary to all rules of candour and fair dealing, and a strong instance of those polemical artifices which a bigoted zeal thinks itself authorized to employ. Henceforth, the author desires, that the following pieces may alone be regarded as containing his philosophical sentiments and pi’inciples.” After this declaration, it certainly would be highly uncandid to impute to Mr Hume any philosophical sentiments or principles not to be found in his Philosophical Essays, as well as in his Treatise. But where is the unfairness of replying to any plausible arguments in the latter work, even although Mr Hume may have omitted them in his subsequent publications; more especially where these arguments supply any useful lights for illustrating his more popular compositions ? The Treatise of Human Nature will certainly be remembered as long as any of Mr Hume’s philosophical writings; nor is any person qualified either to approve or to reject his doctrines, who has not studied them in the systematical form in which they were originally cast. That Mr Hume’s remonstrance may be just with respect to some of his adversaries, I believe to be true; but it is surely expressed in a tone more querulous and peevish than is justified by the occasion. I shall take this opportunity of preserving another judgment of Mr Hume’s (still more fully stated) on the merits of this juvenile work. I copy it from a private letter written by himself to Sir Gilbert Elliot, soon after the publication of his Philosophical Essays. I believe the Philosophical Essays contain every thing of consequence relating to the Understanding, which you would meet with in the Treatise ; and I give you my advice against reading the latter. By shortening and simplifying the questions I really render them more complete. Addo dum minuo. The philosophical principles are the same in both; but I was carried away by the heat of youth and invention to publish too precipitately. So vast an undertaking, planned before I was one and twenty, and composed before twenty-five, must necessarily be very defective. I have repented my haste a hundred and a hundred times.”

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173

which we can hope for success in our philosophical researches, to leave the tedious lingering method which we have hitherto followed, and, instead of taking now and then a castle or village on the frontier, to march up directly to the capital or centre of these sciences, to human nature itself; which, being once masters of, wre may everywhere else hope for an easy victory.

From this station we may extend our conquests over all those sciences

which more intimately concern human life, and may afterwards proceed at leisure to discover more fully those which are the objects of pure curiosity.

There is no question of

importance whose decision is not comprised in the Science of Man, and there is none which can be decided with any certainty before we become acquainted with that science. In pretending, therefore, to explain the principles of Human Nature, we, in effect, propose a complete system of the sciences, built on a foundation almost entirely new, and the only one upon which they can stand with any security. “ And, as the science of man is the only solid foundation for the other sciences, so the orily solid foundation we can give to this science itself must be laid on experience and observation.

’Tis no astonishing reflection to consider, that the application of experimental phi-

losophy to moral subjects should come after that to natural, at the distance of above a whole century ; since we find, in fact, that there was about the same interval betwixt the origin of these sciences; and that, reckoning from Thales to Socrates, the space of time is nearly equal to that betwixt my Lord Bacon and some late philosophers in England,1 who have begun to put the science of man on a new footing, and have engaged the attention, and excited the curiosity of the public.,, I am far from thinking, that the execution of Mr Hume’s work corresponded with the magnificent design sketched out in these observations; nor does it appear to me that he had formed to himself a very correct idea of the manner in which the experimental mode of reasoning ought to be applied to moral subjects.

He had, however, very great merit

in separating entirely his speculations concerning the philosophy of the mind from all physiological hypotheses about the nature of the union between soul and body j and although, from some of his casual expressions, it may be suspected that he conceived our intellectual operations to result from bodily organization,2 he had yet much too large a share

1

" Mr Locke, Lord Shaftesbury, Dr Mandeville, Mr Hutcheson, Dr Butler,” &c. The only expression in his works I can recollect at present, that can give any reasonable countenance to such a suspicion, occurs in his Posthumous Dialogues, where he speaks of “ that little agitation of the brain which we call thought. (2d Edition, pp. 60, 6l.) But no fair inference can be drawn from this, as the expression is put into the mouth of Philo the Sceptic j whereas the author intimates that Cleanthes speaks his own sentiments.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

174

Of good sense and sagacity to suppose, that, by studying the latter, it is possible for human ingenuity to throw any light upon the former.

His works, accordingly, are perfectly free

from those gratuitous and wild conjectures, which a few years afterwards were given to the world with so much confidence by Hartley and Bonnet.

And in this respect his example

has been of infinite use to his successors in this northern part of the island.

Many absurd

theories have, indeed, at different times been produced by our countrymen ; hut I know of no part of Europe where such systems as those of Hartley and Bonnet have been so uniformly treated with the contempt they deserve as in Scotland.1 Nor was it in this respect alone, that Mr Hume’s juvenile speculations contributed to forward the progress of our national literature.

Among the many very exceptionable

doctrines involved in them, there are various discussions, equally refined and solid, in which he has happily exemplified the application of metaphysical analysis to questions connected with taste, with the philosophy of jurisprudence, and with the theory of government.

Of these discussions some afterwards appeared in a more popular form in his phi-

losophical and literary Essays, and still retain a place in the latest editions of his works -, but others, not less curious, have been suppressed by the author, probably from an idea, that they were too abstrase to interest the curiosity of ordinary readers.

In some of these

practical applications of metaphysical principles, we may perceive the germs of several inquiries which have since been successfully prosecuted by Mr Hume’s countrymen ; and, among others, of those which gave birth to Lord Karnes’s Historical Law Tracts, and to his Elements of Criticism. The publication of Mr Hume’s Treatise was attended with another important effect in Scotland.

He had cultivated the art of writing with much greater success than any of

his predecessors, and had formed his taste on the best models of English composition. The influence of his example appears to have been great and general; and was in no instance more remarkable than in the style of his principal antagonists, all of whom, in studying his system, have caught, in no inconsiderable degree, the purity, polish, and precision of his diction. Nobody, I believe, will deny, that Locke himself, considered as an English writer, is far surpassed, not only by Hume, but by Reid, Campbell, Gerard, and Beattie; and of this fact it will not he easy to find a more satisfactory explanation, than in the critical eye with which they were led to canvass a work, equally distinguished by the depth of its reasonings, and by the attractive form in which they are exhibited.

l In no part of Mr Hume’s metaphysical writings is there the slightest reference to either of the*, syterns, although he survived the date of their publication little less than thirty years.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

17*5

The fundamental principles from which Mr Hume sets out, differ more in words than in substance from those of his immediate predecessors.

According to him, all the ob-

jects of our knowledge are divided into two classes, impressions and ideas: the former, comprehending our sensations, properly so called, and also our perceptions of sensible qualities (two things betwixt which Mr Hume’s system does not lead him to make any distinction) ; the latter, the objects of our thoughts when we remember or imagine, or in general exercise any of our intellectual powers on things which are past, absent, or future.

These ideas he considers as copies of our impressions, and the words which denote

them as the only signs entitled to the attention of a philosopher ; every word professing to denote an idea, of which the corresponding impressions cannot be pointed out, being ipso facto unmeaning and illusory.

The obvious result of these principles is, that what

Mr Hume calls impressions, furnish, either immediately or mediately, the whole materials about which our thoughts can be employed ; a conclusion coinciding exactly with the account of the origin of our ideas borrowed by Gassendi from the ancient Epicureans. With this fundamental principle of the Gassendists, Mr Hume combined the logical method recommended by their great antagonists the Cartesians, and (what seemed still more remote from his Epicurean starting ground) a strong leaning to the idealism of Malebranche and of .Berkeley.

Like Descartes, he began with doubting of every thing,

but he was too quick-sighted to be satisfied, like Descartes, with the solutions given by that philosopher of his doubts.

On the contrary, he exposes the futility not only of the solu-

tions proposed by Descartes himself, but of those suggested by Locke and others among his successors ; ending at last where Descartes began, in considering no one proposition as more certain, or even as more probable than another.

That the proofs alleged by Descartes

of the existence of the material world are quite inconclusive, had been already remarked by many.

Nay, it had been shown by Berkeley and others, that if the principles be ad-

mitted on which Descartes, in common with all philosophers, from Aristotle downwards, proceeded, the existence of the material world is impossible.

A few bold thinkers, dis-

tinguished by the name of Egoists, had gone still farther than this, and had pushed their scepticism to such a length, as to doubt of every thing but their own existence.

Accord-

ing to these, the proposition, cogito, ergo sum, is the only truth which can be regarded as absolutely certain.

It was reserved for Mr Hume to call in question even this propo-

sition, and to admit only the existence of impressions and ideas.

To dispute against the

existence of these he conceived to be impossible, inasmuch as they are the immediate subjects of consciousness.

But to admit the existence of the thinking and percipient 1, was

to admit the existence of that imaginary substance called Mind, which (according to him)

FIRST DISSERTATION. is no more an object of human knowledge, than the imaginary and exploded substance called Matter. ’From what has been already said, it may be seen, that we are not to look in Mr Hume’s Treatise for any regular or connected system.

It is neither a scheme of Materialism,

nor a scheme of Spiritualism; for his reasonings strike equally at the root of both these theories.

His aim is to establish a universal scepticism, and to produce in the reader a

complete distrust in his own faculties.

For this purpose he avails himself of the data as-

sumed by the most opposite sects, shifting his ground skilfully from one position to another, as best suits the scope of his present argument.

With the single exception of Bayle,

he has carried this sceptical mode of reasoning farther than any other modern philosopher. Cicero, who himself belonged nominally to the same school, seems to have thought, that the controversial habits imposed on the Academical sect by their profession of universal doubt, required a greater versatility of talent and fertility of invention, than were necessary for defending any particular system of tenets;1 and it is not improbable, that Mr Hume, in the pride of youthful genius, was misled by this specious but very fallacious idea.

On the other hand, Bayle has the candour to acknowledge, that nothing is so easy

as to dispute after the manner of the sceptics;2 and to this proposition every man of reflection will find himself more and more disposed to assent, as he advances in life.

It

is experience alone that can convince us, how much more difficult it is to make any real progress in the search after truth, than to acquire a talent for plausible disputation.3

'i « Nam si singulas disciplinas percipere magnum est, quanto majus omnes ? quod facere iis necesse est, ouibus propositum est, veri reperiendi causa, et contra omnes philosophos et pro ommbus dicere.-Cujus rei tantae tamque difficilis facultatem consecutum esse me non profiteer : Secutum esse pra? me fero. Cicero de Nat. Deor. 1. i. v. 2 See the passage quoted from Bayle, in p. 86 of this Dissertation. ^ In the very interesting account, given by Dr Holland, of Velara, a modern Greek physician, whom he met with at Larissa in Thessaly, a few slight particulars are mentioned, which let us completely into the character of that ingenious person. “ It appeared (says Dr Holland) that Velara had thought much on the various topics of Metaphysics and Morals, and his conversation on these topics bore the same tone of satirical scepticism which was apparent as the general feature of his opinions. We spoke of the questions of Materialism and Necessity, on both of which he declared an affirmative opinion.”—-(Holland’s Travels in the Ionian Isles, &c. p. 275.) “ I passed this evening with Velara at his own house, and sat with him till a late hour. During part of the time our conversation turned upon metaphysical topics, and chiefly on the old Pyrrhonic doctrine of the non-existence of Matter. Velara, as usual, took the sceptical side of the argument, m which he showed much ingenuity and great knowledge of the more eminent controversialists on this and other collateral subjects.” (Ibid. p. 370.) We see here a lively picture of a character daily to be met with in more polished and learned societies, disputing not for truth but for victory; in the first conversation professing himself a Materialist; and in the second denying the existence of Matter; on both occasions, tak1

FIRST DISSERTATION.

177

] hat this spirit of sceptical argument has been carried to a most pernicious excess in modem Euiope, as well as among the ancient Academics, will, I presume, be now7 very generally allowed; but in the form in which it appears in Mr Hume’s Treatise, its mischievous tendency has been more than compensated by the importance of those results for which it has prepared the wray.

The principles which he assumes were sanctioned in com-

mon by Gassendi, by Descartes, and by Locke; and from these, in most instances, he reasons with great logical accuracy and force.

The conclusions to which he is thus led

are often so extravagant and dangerous, that he ought to have regarded them as a proof of the unsoundness of his data; but if he had not the merit of drawing this inference him* self, he at least forced it so irresistibly on the observation of his successors, as to be entitled to share with them in the honour of their discoveries.

Perhaps, indeed, it may be

questioned if the errors which he adopted from his predecessors would not have kept their giound till this day, had not his sagacity displayed so clearly the consequences which they necessarily involve.

It is m this sense that we must understand a compliment paid to him

by the ablest of his adversaries, when he says, that “ Mr Hume’s premises often do more than atone for his conclusions.”

1

The bias of Mr Hume’s mind to scepticism seems to have been much encouraged, and the success of his sceptical theories in the same proportion promoted, by the recent attempts of Descartes and his followers to demonstrate Self-evident Truths,—attempts which Mr Hume clearly perceived to involve, in every instance, that sort of paralogism which logic,ans call reasoning in a circle.

The weakness of these pretended demonstrations

is triumphantly exposed in the Treatise of Human Nature; and it is not very wonderful that the author, in the first enthusiasm of his victory over his immediate predecessors, should have fancied that the inconclusiveness of the proofs argued some unsound-

“8

UP that g r0lmiJ

.

"’here SUCh

he was mst n

hkely to provoke opposition. If any inference is to be drawn fro

he'cZrZertrTh “ ' “’ ^ of the co;„^ wlere heTl:8’ ^ ^

t0 h S real CreCd 11

''

’

“”

COnC, deen more particularly careful in guarding against such a misapprehension. But it cannot I think J 0f SUCh hra eol view off the phenomena, and “toPinfuse tile mind the young inquirer false conceptions tt^mental ‘he P,reValenCe ’ into °gy must have aoftendency to divert thevery attention from a just of the manner m which these phenomena ought to be studied, ^

DISS. I. PART II.

b

FIRST DISSERTATION.

194

rence under different forms, of the same metaphysical controvers.es, winch so often surprises' and mortifies us in the history of literature, is an evil wh.ch w.ll probably always continue, more or less, even in the most prosperous state of philosophy. objection to the utility of metaphysical pursuits.

But it aff ords no

While the sceptics keep the

e , .

must not be abandoned by the friends of sounder principles; nor ought they to be d.scoura-ed from their ungrateful task, by the reflection, that they have probably been antic pated Jn

everything they have to say, by more than one of their predecessors.

any-

thine'is likely to check this periodical return of a mischief so unprop.tious to the progress of useful knowledge, it seems to be the general diffusion of that historical information concerninir the literature and science of former times, of which it is the aim of these Pie iminary

Dissertations to present an outline.

Should it fail in preventing the occasional re-

vival of obsolete paradoxes, it will, at least, diminish the wonder and admiration wit. which they are apt to be regarded by the multitude. And here I cannot refrain from remarking the injustice with wh.ch the advocates for truth are apt to be treated ; and by none more remarkably than by that class of writers who profess the greatest zeal for its triumph.

The importance of their labours is discre-

dited by those who are the loudest in their declamations and invectives against the beentious philosophy of the present age ; insomuch that a careless observer would be inclined to imaaine (if I may borrow Mr Hume’s words on another occasion), that the battle was fought “ not by the men at arms, who manage the pike and the sword ; but by the trumDeters, drummers, and musicians, of the army. These observations may serve, at the same time, to account for the slow and (according to some persons) imperceptible advances of the philosophy of the human mind, since the oublication of Locke’s Essay.

With those who still attach themselves to that author as

an infallible guide in metaphysics, it is in vain to argue; but I would willingly appeal U. any of Locke’s rational and discriminating admirers, whether much has not been done by his successors, and, among others, by members of our northern universities, towards the illustration and correction of such of his principles as have furnished, both to English and French sceptics, the foundation of their theories.’

If this be granted, the way has, at

,, ■ ,w labours of these commentators on Locke have done more harm than ' f CC“f Urtt Mr Lo ke has been hasty in concluding that there is some other source of our ideas be^the external senses ; hut the res, of his system appears to me and others to be the corner stone of ai. just and rational knowledge of cm selves. .1 to be overturned by a set of pretended phi-

FIRST DISSERTATION.

195

least, been cleared and prepared for the labours of our posterity ; and neither the cavils ef the sceptic, nor the refutation of them by the sounder logician, can be pronounced to be useless to mankind.

Nothing can be juster or more liberal than the following reflection

of Reid : “ I conceive the sceptical writers to be a set of men, whose business it is to pick holes in the fabric of knowledge wherever it is weak and faulty ; and when those places are properly repaired, the whole building becomes more firm and solid than it was formerly.”—into the Human Mind.

Dedication.)

There is, indeed, one point of view, in which, it must be owned, that Mr Hume’s Treatise has had an unfavourable effect (and more especially in Scotland) on the progress »

)f

Metaphysical Science. Had it not been for the zeal of some of his countrymen to op•ose the sceptical conclusions, which they conceived it to be his aim to establish, much of

that ingenuity which has been wasted in the refutation of his sophistry (or, to speak more correctly, m combating the mistaken principles on which he proceeded) would, in all probability, have been directed to speculations more immediately applicable to the business of life, or more agreeable to the taste of the present age.

What might not have been ex-

pected fiom Mr Hume himself, had his powerful and accomplished mind been more frequently turned to the study of some parts of our nature (of those, for example, which are connected with the principles of criticism), in examining which, the sceptical bias of his disposition would have had fewer opportunities of leading him astray !

In some fragments of

this sort, which enliven and adorn his collection of Essays, one is at a loss whether more to admire the subtlety of his genius, or the solidity and good sense of his critical judgments. Nor have these elegant applications of metaphysical pursuits been altogether overlooked by Mr Hume’s antagonists.

The active and adventurous spirit of Lord Karnes, here,

as in many other instances, led the way to his countrymen ; and, due allowances being made for the novelty and magnitude of his undertaking, with a success far greater than could have been reasonably anticipated.

The Elements of Criticism, considered as the

first systematical attempt to investigate the metaphysical principles of the fine arts, possesses, in spite of its numerous defects both in point of taste and of philosophy, infinite merits, and will ever be regarded as a literary wonder by those who know how small a portion of his time it was possible for the author to allot to the composition of it, amidst the imperious and multifarious duties of a most active and useful life.

Campbell and Gerard,

University of Glasg I asgow.”—(Exaw. of Reid, Beattie, and Oswald, p. 5.)_As to Mr Hume. Dr PnWW says, v In my op those of this new ral and Revealed v— f ReM $c- Preface, p. xxvii.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

104

rence under different forms, of the same metaphysical controversies, which so often prises’and mortifies us in the history of literature, is an evil which wdl probably ah continue, more or less, even in the most prosperous state of philosophy. objection to the utility of metaphysical pursuits.

But >t afford

While the sceptics keep the

e

must not be abandoned by the friends of sounder principles; nor ought they to b. coura-red from their ungrateful task, by the reflection, that they have probably been a ted! in everything they have to say, by more than one of their predecessors, thing’is likely to check this periodical return of a mischief so unpropitious to the pr of useful knowledge, it seems to be the general diffusion of that historical informat.o cerning the literature and science of former times, of which it is the aim of these P navy

Dissertations to present an outline.

Should it fail in preventing the occasic

vival of obsolete paradoxes, it will, at least, dimmish the wonder and admuatio which they are apt to be regarded by the multitude. \nd here I cannot refrain from remarking the injustice with which the advocates for truth are apt to be treated ; and by none more remarkably than by that class of writers who profess the greatest zeal for its triumph.

The importance of their labours ,s discre-

dited by those who are the loudest in their declamations and invectives against the beentious philosophy of the present age ; insomuch that a careless observer would be inclined to imagine (if I may borrow Mr Hume’s words on another occasion), that the battle was fought^ not by the men at arms, who manage the pike and the sword ; but by the trumpeters, drummers, and musicians, of the army.

,.

These observations may serve, at the same time, to account for the slow and (according to some persons) imperceptible advances of the philosophy of the human mind, since the publication of Locke’s Essay.

With those who still attach themselves to that author as

an infallible guide in metaphysics, it is in vain to argue; but I would willingly appeal any of Locke’s rational and discriminating admirers, whether much has not been done by bis successors, and, among others, by members of our northern universities, towards the illustration and correction of such of his principles as have furnished, both to English and French sceptics, the foundation of their theories.'

If this be granted, the way has, at

„ u ww flu. labours of these commentators on Locke have done more harm than ' f “onhil Mr Locke has been hasty in concluding that there is some other source of our ideas beSfs’the —1 senses ; hut the rest of his system appears to me and others to be the corner stone of all just and rational knowledge of cm selves. . r to be overturned by a set of pretended phi1“

^

first dissertation.

195

least, been cleared and prepared for the labours of our posterity ; and neither the cavils ef the sceptic, nor the refutation of them by the sounder logician, can be pronounced to be useless to mankind.

Nothing can be juster or more liberal than the following reflection

of Reid : “ I conceive the sceptical writers to be a set of men, whose business it is to pick holes in the fabric of knowledge wherever it is weak and faulty; and when those places are propeily repaired, the whole building becomes more firm and solid than it was formerly.”—(/rcy win/ into the Human Mind.

Dedication.)

There is, indeed, one point of view, in which, it must be owned, that Mr Hume’s Treatise has had an unfavourable effect (and more especially in Scotland) on the progress of Metaphysical Science.

Had it not been for the zeal of some of his countrymen to op-

pose the sceptical conclusions, which they conceived it to be his aim to establish, much of that ingenuity which has been wasted in the refutation of his sophistry (or, to speak more correctly, in combating the mistaken principles on which he proceeded) would, in all probability, have been directed to speculations more immediately applicable to the business of life, or more agreeable to the taste of the present age.

What might not have been ex-

pected from Mr Hume himself, had his powerful and accomplished mind been more frequently turned to the study of some parts of our nature (of those, for example, which are connected with the principles of criticism), in examining which, the sceptical bias of his disposition would have had fewer opportunities of leading him astray !

In some fragments of

this sort, which enliven and adorn his collection of Essays, one is at a loss whether more to admire the subtlety of his genius, or the solidity and good sense of his critical judgments. Nor have these elegant applications of metaphysical pursuits been altogether overlooked by Mr Hume’s antagonists.

The active and adventurous spirit of Lord Karnes, here,

as in many other instances, led the way to his countrymen ; and, due allowances being made for the novelty and magnitude of his undertaking, with a success far greater than could have been reasonably anticipated.

The Elements of Criticism, considered as the

first systematical attempt to investigate the metaphysical principles of the fine arts, possesses, in spite of its numerous defects both in point of taste and of philosophy, infinite merits, and will ever be regarded as a literary wonder by those who know how small a portion of his time it was possible for the author to allot to the composition of it, amidst the imperious and multifarious duties of a most active and useful life.

Campbell and Gerard,

University of Glasgow.’*-(^«w. of Reid, Beattie, and Oswald, p. 5.)_As to Mr Hume, Dr Priestley ZseoftR my 0Pmi0n,hehaSbeen^“%anSWered’ aSain and again, upon more solid principles than se se ; and 1 he leave to re er to ihe Regaled Religion.”—(Exami f & of Reid %c. f Preface, twop.first volumes of my Institutes of Natura rall and Revealed nation xxvii.)

FIRST DISSERTATION.

196

with a sounder philosophy, and Beattie, with a much more lively relish for the Sublime and the Beautiful, followed afterwards in the same path ; and have all contributed to create and to diffuse over this island a taste for a higher and more enlightened species of criticism than was knowm to our forefathers.

Among the many advantageous results with

which this study has been already attended, the most important, undoubtedly, is the new and pleasing avenue which it has opened to an analysis ot the laws which regulate the intellectual phenomena ; and the interest which it has thus lent, in the estimation of men of the world, to inquiries which, not many years before, were seldom heard of, but within the walls of an university. Dr Reid’s two volumes of Essays on the Intellectual and on the Active Powers oj Man (the former of which appeared in 1785, and the latter in 1788) are the latest philosophical publications from Scotland of which I shall at present take notice.

I hey are

less highly finished, both in matter and in form, than his Inquiry into the Human Mind. They contain also some repetitions, to which, I am afraid, I must add a few trifling inconsistencies of expression, for which the advanced age of the author, who was then approaching to fourscore, claims every indulgence from a candid reader.

Perhaps, too, it may be

questioned, whether, in one or two instances, his zeal for an important conclusion has not led him to avail himself of some dubious reasonings, which might have been omitted without any prejudice to his general argument.

“ The value of these volumes, how-

ever (as I have elsewhese remarked), is inestimable to future adventurers in the same arduous inquiries, not only in consequence of the aids they furnish as a rough draught of the field to be examined, but by the example they exhibit of a method of investigation on such subjects, hitherto very imperfectly understood, even by those philosophers who call themselves the disciples of Locke.

It is by the logical rigour of this method, so

systematically pursued in all his researches, still more than by the importance of his particular conclusions, that he stands so conspicuously distinguished among those who have hitherto prosecuted analytically the study of man,*’

1

His acquaintance with the metaphysical doctrines of his predecessors does not appear to have been very extensive ; with those of his own contemporaries it was remarkably deficient. I do not recollect that he has anywhere mentioned the names either of Condillac or of D’Alembert.

It is impossible not to regret this, not only as it has deprived us of his cri-

tical judgments on some celebrated theories, but as it has prevented him from enlivening his works with that variety of historical discussion so peculiarly agreeable in these abstract researches. 1

Biographical Account of Reid-

11

FIRST DISSERTATION.

197

On the other hand, Dr Reid s limited range of metaphysical reading, by forcing him to draw the materials of his philosophical speculations almost entirely from his own reflections, has given to his style, both of thinking and of writing, a characteristical unity and simplicity seldom to be met with in so voluminous an author.

He sometimes, indeed, re-

peats, with an air of originality, what had been previously said by his predecessors ; but on these, as on all other occasions, he has at least the merit of thinking for himself, and of sanctioning, by the weight of his unbiassed judgment, the conclusions which he adopts. It is this uniformity of thought and design, which, according to Dr Butler, is the best test of an author s sincerity ; and I am apt to regard it also, in these abstruse disquisitions, as one of the surest marks of liberal and unfettered inquiry. In comparing Dr Reid’s publications at different periods of his life, it is interesting to observe his growing partiality for the aphoristical style.

Some of his Essays on the Intel-

lectual and Active Powers of Man are little more than a series of detached paragraphs, consisting of leading thoughts, of which the reader is left to trace the connection&by his own sagacity.

To this aphoristical style it is not improbable that he was partly led by the

indolence incident to advanced years, as it relieved him from what Boileau justly considered as the most difficult task of an author, the skilful management of transitions.1 In consequence of this want of continuity in his compositions, a good deal of popular effect is unavoidably lost; but, on the other hand, to the few who have a taste for such inquiries, and who value books chiefly as they furnish exercise to their own thoughts (a class of readers who are alone competent to pronounce a judgment on metaphysical questions), there is a peculiar charm in a mode of writing, so admirably calculated to give relief to the author’s ideas, and to awaken, at every sentence, the reflections of his readers. When I review what I have now written on the history of Metaphysics in Scotland, since the publication of Mr Hume’s Treatise, and at the same time recollect the laurels which, during the same period, have been won by Scottish authors, in every other department of literature and of science, I must acknowledge that, instead of being mortified at the slender amount of their contributions to the philosophy of the human mind, I am more disposed to wonder at their successful perseverance in cultivating a field of study, where the approbation of a few enlightened and candid judges is the only reward to which their ambition could aspire.

1

Small as their progress may hitherto have been, it will at

Boileau is said, by the younger Racine, to have made this remark in speaking of La Bruyere: “ 1} disoit que La Bruyere s’etoit epargne le plus difficile d'nn outrage en a epargnant les transitions.” (Me moire sur la Vie de Jean Racine.')

FIRST DISSERTATION.

198

least not suffer by a comparison with what has been accomplished by their contemporaries in any other part of Europe. It may not be useless to add in this place, that, if little has as yet been done, the more ample is the field left for the industry of our successors.

The compilation of a Manual

of Rational Logic, adapted to the present state of science and of society in Europe, is a desideratum which, it is to be hoped, will at no distant period be supplied.

It is a work,

certainly, of which the execution has been greatly facilitated by the philosophical labours of the last century.

The varieties of intellectual character among men present another

very interesting object of study, which, considering its practical utility, has not yet excited, so much as might have been expected, the curiosity of our countrymen. still wanting to complete the theory of evidence.

Much, too, is

Campbell has touched upon it with his

usual acuteness, but he has attempted nothing more than an illustration of a very few general principles.

Nor has he turned his attention to the various illusions of the imagina-

tion, and of the passions, by which the judgment is liable to be warped in the estimates it forms of moral evidence in the common affairs of life.

This is a most important inquiry,

considering how often the lives and fortunes of men are subjected to the decisions of illiterate persons concerning circumstantial proofs; and how much the success or failure of every individual in the conduct of his private concerns turns on the sagacity or rashness with which he anticipates future contingencies.

Since the time when Campbell wrote,

1

an attempt has been made by Condorcet and some other French writers, to apply a mathematical calculus to moral and political truths ; but though much metaphysical ingenuity, as well as mathematical skill, have been displayed in carrying it into execution, it has not yet led to any useful practical results.

Perhaps it may even be questioned, whether, in

investigating truths of this sort, the intellectual powers can derive much aid from the emf

ployment of such an organ.

To define accurately and distinctly the limits of its legitimate

province, still remains a desideratum in this abstruse part of logic. Nearly connected with this subject are the metaphysical principles assumed in the mathematical Calculation of Probabilities; in delivering which principles, some foreign mathematicians, with the illustrious La Place at their head, have blended, with many unquestionable and highly interesting conclusions, various moral paralogisms of the most pernicious tendency.

A critical examination of these paralogisms, which are apt to escape the

attention of the reader amid the variety of original and luminous discussions with which

1 Essai sur Vapplication de VAnalyse a la Probabilite des Decisions rendues cl la pluralitS des Voix. 12

first dissertation.

199

they are surrounded, would, in my humble apprehension, be one of the most essential services which could at present be rendered to true philosophy.

In the mind of La Place,

their origin may be fairly traced to an ambition, not altogether unnatural in so transcendant a genius, to extend the empire of his favourite science over the moral as well as the material world.1

I have mentioned but a few out of the innumerable topics which crowd

upon me as fit objects of inquiry for the rising generation.2

Nor have I been guided in

my selection of these by any other consideration, than their peculiar adaptation to the actuai circumstances of the philosophical world. Should such men as Hume, Smith, and Reid again arise, their curiosity would, in all probability, be turned to some applications of metaphysical principles of a more popular and practical nature than those which chiefly engaged their curiosity.

At the same time,

let us not forget what a step they made beyond the scholastic philosophy of the preceding age; and how necessary this step was as a preliminary to other researches bearing more directly and palpably on human affairs. The most popular objection hitherto made to our Scottish metaphysicians is, that, in treating of human nature, they have overlooked altogether the corporeal part of our frame, from the contempt which they have uniformly expressed for all physiological theories com ceming the intellectual phenomena, it has been concluded, that they were disposed to consider the human mind as altogether independent of the influence of physical causes.

Mr

Belsham has carried this charge so far, as to sneer at Dr Reid’s inconsistency for having somewhere acknowledged, “ in opposition to his systematical principles, that a certain constitution or state of the brain is necessary to memory.”

In reply to this charge, it may be

con idently asserted, that no set of philosophers, since the time of Lord Bacon, have entertained juster views on this subject than the school to which Dr Reid belonged.

In proof

of this, I need only appeal to the Lectures on the Duties and Qualifications of a Physi. can, by the late learned and ingenious Dr John Gregory.

Among the difl'erent articles

connected with the natural history of the human species, which he has there recommended to the examination of the medical student, he lays particular stress on “ the laws of union

wlk t '

™ ’«

A

01

allude did not M within the

—^

^ „„

this

most prominent is the Natural or Theoretical History of Languaae finclutlimr uml

a oral ianguage) a s,,bject wi,ich wii1 proh * hum:;:r : 'vel1 ’ state of human knowledge. ^^ tojoiinewpfj;,:!: gcnmty, m1 the most improved It is not surprisino- thaf • WhiCh tima,ely Lell shouldTeaviTbdiind h such su^ffaint "fd " ^of;"-its ve behind it and 7' obscure traces origin and infancy.

,he e

^eLe of Z™

FIRST DISSERTATION.

200

between the mind and body, and the mutual influence they have upon one another.” “ This (he observes) is one of the most important inquiries that ever engaged the attention of mankind, and almost equally necessary in the sciences of morals and of medicine.” It must be remarked, however, that it is only the laws which regulate the union between mind and body (the same class offacts which Bacon called the doctrina de fxdei e), which are here pointed out as proper objects of philosophical curiosity ; for as to any hypothesis concerning the manner in which the union is carried on, this most sagacious writer was well aware, that they are not more unfavourable to the improvement of logic and of ethics, than to a skilful and judicious exercise of the healing art. I may perhaps form too high an estimate of the progress of knowledge during the last fifty years ; but I think I can perceive, within the period of my own recollection, not only a change to the better in the Philosophy of the Human Mind, but in the speculations of medical inquirers.

Physiological theories concerning the functions of the nerves in

producing the intellectual phenomena have pretty generally fallen into contempt: and, on the other hand, a large accession has been made to our stock of well authenticated facts, both with respect to the influence of body on mind, and of mind upon body.

As

examples of this, it is sufficient to mention the experimental inquiries instituted, in consequence of the pretended cures effected by means of Animal Magnetism and of Tractois ; to which may be added, the philosophical spirit evinced in some late publications on Insanity. Another objection, not so entirely groundless, which has been made to the same school, is, that their mode of philosophising has led to an unnecessary multiplication of our internal senses and instinctive determinations. 1

count and to apologize.

For this error, I have elsewhere attempted to ac-

On the present occasion I shall only remark, that it is at least a

safer error than the opposite extreme, so fashionable of late among our southern neighbours, of endeavouring to explain away, without any exception, all our instinctive principles, both speculative and practical.

A literal interpretation of Locke s comparison of

the infant mind to a sheet of white paper (a comparison which, if I am rightly informed, has not yet wholly lost its credit in all our universities), naturally predisposed his followers to embrace this theory, and enabled them to shelter it from a free examination, undei the sanction of his supposed authority.

Dr Paley, himself, in his earliest philosophical

publication, yielded so far to the prejudices in which he had been educated, as to dispute the existence of the moral faculty ; * although, in his more advanced years, he amply aton1

Biographical Memoirs, p. 472. After relating, in the words of Valerius Maximus, the noted story ot Caius loranus, who betrayed h affectionate and excellent father to the triumvirate. Dr Paley thus proceeds: 2

FIRST DISSERTATION.

201

ed for this error of his youth, by the ingenuity and acuteness with which he combated the reasonings employed by some of his contemporaries, to invalidate the proofs afforded by the phenomena of instinct^ of the existence of a designing and provident cause. 1

part of his work, he has plainly in his eye the Zoonomia of Dr Darwin,

In this

where the same

principles, of which Paley and others had availed themselves to disprove the existence of instinct and instinctive propensities in man, are eagerly laid hold of to disprove the existence of instinct in the brutes.

Without such an extension of the argument, it was clearly

perceived by Darwin, that sufficient evidences of the existence of a Designing Cause would be afforded by the phenomena of the lower animals; and, accordingly, he has employed much ingenuity to show, that all these phenomena may be accounted for by experience, or by the influence of pleasurable or painful sensations, operating at the moment on the animal frame. In opposition to this theory, it is maintained by Paley, that it is by instinct, that

“ Now tlie question is, whether, if this story were related to the wild boy caught some years ago in the woods of Hanover, or to a savage without experience and without instruction, cut off in his infancy from all intercourse with his species, and consequently under no possible influence of example, authority, education, sympathy, or habit; whether, I say, such a one would feel, upon the relation, any degree of that sentiment of disapprobation of Toranius’s conduct which we feel or not?” “ They who maintain the existence of a moral sense, of innate maxims, of a natural conscience—that the love of virtue and hatred of vice are instinctive, or the perception of right or wrong intuitive (all of which are only different ways of expressing the same opinion), affirm that he would. “ They who deny the existence of a moral sense, &c. affirm that he would not. “ And uPon this issue is joined.” {Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, B. I. Chap. 5.) To those who are at all acquainted with the history of this dispute, it must appear evident that the question is here completely mistated; and that, in the whole of Dr Paley’s subsequent argument on the subject, he combats a phantom of his own imagination. The opinion which he ascribes to his antagonists has been loudly and repeatedly disavowed by all the most eminent moralists who have disputed Locke’s reasonings against innate practical principles; and is, indeed, so very obviously absurd, that it never could have been for a moment entertained by any person in his senses. Did it ever enter into the mind of the wildest theorist to imagine that the sense of seeing would enable a man brought up, from the moment of his birth, in utter darkness, to form a conception of light and colours ? But would it not be equally rash to conclude from the extravagance of such a supposition, that the sense of seeing is not an original part of the human frame ? The above quotation from Paley forces me to remark, farther, that, in combating the supposition of a moral sense, he has confounded together, as only different tvays of expressmg the same opinion, a variety of systems, which are regarded by all our best philosophers, not only as essentially distinct, but as in some measure standing in opposition to each other. The system of Hutcheson, for example, is identified with that of Cudworth. But although, in this instance, the author’s logical discrimination does not appear to much advantage, the sweeping censure thus bestowed on so many of our most celebrated ethical theories, has the merit of throwing a very strong light on that particular view of the subject which it is the aim of his reasonings to establish, in contradiction to them all. bee the section on Instinct. (Sect. XVI, of that work.) DISS. I. PART II.

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FIRST DISSERTATION.

202

is (according to his own definition), “ by a propensity prior to experience, and independent of instruction,^ “ that the sexes of animals seek each other ; that animals cherish their offspring ; that the young quadruped is directed to the teat of its dam ; that birds build their nest, and brood with so much patience upon their eggs ; that insects, which do not sit upon their eggs, deposit them in those particular situations in which the young, when hatched, find their appropriate food ; that it is instinct which carries the salmon, and some other fish, out of the sea into rivers, for the purpose of shedding their spawn in fresh water.” ’ In Dr Paley’s very able and convincing reasonings on these various points, he has undoubtedly approached nearer to the spirit of what has been ironically called Scottish philosophy,2 than any of Mr Locke’s English disciples, since the time of Dr Butler ; a circumstance which, when compared with the metaphysical creed of his earlier years, reflects the greatest honour on the candour and fairness of his mind, and encourages the hope, that this philosophy, where it is equally sound, will gradually and silently work its way among sincere inquirers after truth, in spite of the strong prejudices which many of our southern neighbours still appear to entertain against it. The extravagancies of Darwin, it is probable, first opened Dr Paley’s eyes to the dangerous tendency of Locke’s argument against innate principles, when inculcated without due limitations.3

With this very faint outline of the speculations of Locke’s chief successors in Scot-

1

Paley’s Natural Theology, p. 324. May I take the liberty of requesting the reader to compare a few pages of Dr Paley’s Section on Instinct, beginning, “ / am not ignorant of the theory which resolves instinct into sensation,” &c. with some remarks made by the author of this Dissertation, in an Account of the Life and Writings of Dr Reid ? See the passage in section second, beginning thus, “ In a very original work, on which I have already hazarded some criticisms,” Sec. As both publications appeared about the same time (in the year 1802), the coincidence, in point of thought, must have been wholly accidental, and as such affords no slight presumption in favour of its soundness. 3 When Dr Paley published his Principles of Moral and Political Philosophy, he seems to have attached himself much too slavishly to the opinions of Bishop Law, to whom that work is inscribed. Hence, probably, his anxiety to disprove the existence of the moral faculty. Of the length to which Law was disposed to carry Locke’s argument against innate principles, he has enabled us to judge by his own explicit declaration: “ I take implanted senses, instincts, appetites, passions, and affections, Sec. to be a remnant of the old philosophy, which used to call every thing innate that it could not account for; and therefore heartily wish, that they were in one sense all eradicated, which was undoubtedly the aim of that great author last mentioned (Mr Locke), as it was a natural consequence of his first book.” (Law’s translation of Archbishop King On the Origin of Evil, p. 79, note.) In justice, however, to Dr Law, it must be observed, that lie appeal's to have been tally aware that the 2

QOS

FIRST DISSERTATION.

land, prior to the close of Dr Reid’s literary labours, I shall for the present finish nly review of the metaphysical pursuits of the eighteenth century.

The long period which has

since elapsed has been too much crowded with great political events to favour the growth of abstract science in any of its branches; and of the little which appears to have been done, during this interval, in other parts of Europe, towards the advancement of true philosophy, the interrupted communication between this island and the Continent left us for many years in a state of almost total ignorance.

This chasm, in our information concern-

ing foreign literature, it may not be a difficult task for younger men to supply.

At my

time of life it would be folly to attempt it; nor, perhaps, is any author, who has himself been so frequently before the public, the fittest person to form an impartial estimate of the merits of his living contemporaries.

Now, however, when peace is at length restored

to the world, it may reasonably be hoped that the human mind will again resume her former career with renovated energy; and that the nineteenth century will not yield to the eighteenth in furnishing materials to those who may hereafter delight to trace the progressive improvement of their species.

In the meantime, instead of indulging myself

in looking forward to the future, I shall conclude this section with a few general reflections suggested by the foregoing retrospect. Among these reflections, what chiefly strikes my own mind is the extraordinary change which has gradually and insensibly taken place since the publication of Locke’s Essay, in the meaning of the word Metaphysics ; a word formerly appropriated to the ontology and pneumatology of the schools, but now understood as equally applicable to all those inquiries, which have, for their object, to trace the various branches of human knowledge to their first principles in the constitution of our nature.1 This change can be accounted for dispute about innate principles was in a great measure verbal. “ It will really (says he) come to the same thing with regard to the moral attributes of God and the nature of virtue and vice, whether the Deity has implanted these instincts and affections in us, or has framed and disposed us in such a manner, has given us such powers, and placed us in such circumstances, that we must necessarily acquire them” {Ibid.) But if Dr Law was aware of this, why should he and his followers have attached such infinite importance to the controversy ? 1 The following is the account of Metaphysics given by Hobbes:—“ There is a certain Philosophia pri~ ma, on which all other Philosophy ought to depend; and consisteth principally in right limiting of the significations of such appellations, or names, as are of all others the most universal: which limitations serve to avoid ambiguity, and equivocation in reasoning; and are commonly called Definitions; such as are the Definitions of Body, Time, Place, Matter, Form, Essence, Subject, Substance, Accident, Power, Act, Finite, Infinite, Quantity, Quality, Motion, Action, Passion, and divers others, necessary to the explaining of a man’s conceptions concerning the nature and generation of bodies. The explication (that is, the settling of the meaning) of which, and the like terms, is commonly in the schools called Metaphysics” {Moral and Political Works. Folio Edit. London, 1750. p. 399 )

204

FIRST DISSERTATION.

only by a change in the philosophical pursuits of Locke’s successors j a change from the idle abstractions and subtleties of the dark ages, to studies subservient to the culture of the understanding; to the successful exercise of its faculties and powers; and to a knowledge of the great ends and purposes of our being.

It may be regarded, therefore, as a pal-

pable and incontrovertible proof of a corresponding progress of reason in this part of the world. On comparing together the multifarious studies now classed together under the title of Metaphysics, it will be found difficult to trace any common circumstance but this, that they all require the same sort of mental exertion for their prosecution; the exercise, I mean, of that power (called by Locke Reflection J by which the mind turns its attention inwards upon its own operations, and the subjects of its own consciousness.

In researches concern-

ing our intellectual and active powers, the mind directs its attention to the faculties which it exercises, or to the propensities which put these faculties in motion.

In all the other

inquiries which fall under the province of the Metaphysician, the materials of his reasoning are drawn chiefly from his own internal resources.

Nor is this observation less appli-

cable to speculations which relate to things external, than to such as are confined to the thinking and sensient principle within him.

In carrying on his researches (for example)

concerning hardness, softness, figure, and motion, he finds it not less necessary to retire within himself, than in studying the laws of imagination or memory.

Indeed, in such

cases, the whole aim of his studies is to obtain a more precise definition of his ideas, and to ascertain the occasions on which they are formed. From this account of the nature and object of metaphysical science, it may be reasonably expected, that those with whom it is a favourite and habitual pursuit, should acquire a more than ordinary capacity of retiring, at pleasure, from the external to the internal world. They may be expected also to acquire a disposition to examine the origin of whatsoever combinations they may find established in the fancy, and a superiority to the casual associations which warp common understandings.

Hence an accuracy and a subtlety in their

distinctions on all subjects, and those peculiarities in their views which are characteristical of unbiassed and original thinking.

But, perhaps, the most valuable fruit of their re-

searches, is that scrupulous precision in the use of language, upon which, more than upon any one circumstance whatever, the logical accuracy of our reasonings, and the justness of our conclusions, essentially depend.

Accordingly it will be found, on a review of the his-

tory of the moral sciences, that the most important steps which have been made in some of those, apparently the most remote from metaphysical pursuits (in the science, for example, of political economy), have been made by men trained to the exercise of their intellectual

FI LIST DISSERTATION. powers by early habits of abstract meditation.

205

To this fact Burke probably alluded, when

he remarked, that “ by turning the soul inward on itself, its forces are concentered, and are fitted for stronger and bolder flights of science; and that in such pursuits, whether we take, or whether we lose the game, the chace is certainly of service.The names of Locke, of Berkeley, of Hume, of Quesnai, of Turgot, of Morellet, and above all, of Adam Smith, will at once illustrate the truth of these observations, and show, that, in combining together, in this Dissertation, the sciences of Metaphysics, of Ethics, and of Politics, I have not adopted an arrangement altogether capricious.1 In farther justification of this arrangement, I might appeal to the popular prejudices so industriously fostered by many, against these three branches of knowledge, as ramifications from one common and most pernicious root.

How often have Mr Smith’s reasonings in

favour of the freedom of trade been ridiculed as metaphysical and visionary! Nay, but a few years have elapsed, since this epithet (accompanied with the still more opprobrious terms of Atheistical and Democratical) was applied to the argument then urged against the morality and policy of the slave-trade; and, in general, to every speculation in which any appeal was made to the beneficent arrangements of nature, or to the progressive improvement of the human race.

Absurd as this language was, it could not, for a moment,

have obtained any currency with the multitude, had there not been an obvious connection between these liberal doctrines, and the well known habits of logical thinking, which so eminently distinguished their authors and advocates.

Whatever praise, therefore, may be

due to the fathers of the modern science of political economy, belongs, at least in part (according to the acknowledgment of their most decided adversaries), to those abstract studies by which they were prepared for an analytical investigation of its first and fundamental principles. Other connections and affinities between Political Economy and the Philosophy of the

1

It furnishes no objection to these remarks, that some of our best treatises on questions of political economy have proceeded from men who were strangers to metaphysical studies. It is enough for my purpose if it be granted, that it was by habits of metaphysical thinking that the minds of those authors were formed, by whom political economy was first exalted to the dignity of a science. To a great proportion even of the learned, the rules of a sound logic are best taught by examples ; and when a precise and well-defined phraseology is once introduced, the speculations of the most ordinary writers assume an appearance (sometimes, it must be owned, a very fallacious one) of depth and consistency. b ontenelle remarks, that a single great man is sufficient to accomplish a change in the taste of his age, and that the perspicuity and method for which Descartes was indebted to his mathematical researches, were successfully copied by many of his contemporaries who were ignorant of mathematics. A similar observation will be found to apply, with still greater force, to the models of metaphysical analysis and of logical discussion, exhibited in the political works of Hume and of Smith.

FIRST DISSERTATION.

as Charge d'Affaires. Voltaire did

NOTES and ILLUSTRATIONS.

zn

more general circulation than it ever obtained among that class of readers in England. At no period, certainly, since it was first published (such is the difference of national manners), could similar allusions have been made to it, or to any other work on so abstract a subject, with the slightest hope of success on the London stage. And yet D’Alembert pronounces La Fausse Agnes to be a piece, pl = 9.65, while —=1296. Here the differnature very likely to be of frequent occurrence. Let the length of a pipe 1 be 1000 feet, let it have ences of the values of v are -|-11.55 and +3.31, five flexures, each equal in extent to a right angle with their difference 8.24 answering to a difference of an a radius of curvature q of six inches ; let the height inch in the diameters. We must, therefore, add of the head of water h be ten feet, and let the quanti- 3.31 and the diameter required will be 5.40 ty of water to be delivered be one ale hogshead, or 7r^r-=.402, 8.24 fifty-four gallons in a minute; required the diameter inches ; and if we wish for very great accuracy, we of the pipe d. may repeat the calculation once more with this vaNeglecting the slight difference between French and English inches, with respect to the effect of lue of d. The remainder of the investigations contained in i i curvature, we have p = 450, =.2085, and Dr Young's two papers are more immediately connected with Physiology than with Hydraulics; and r = .0004222which must be added to the co- the interesting experiments of Girard, published in the Memoirs of the Academy of Sciences for 1818, reefficient of in the general formula. Now, since an late almost entirely to the effects of temperature on ale gallon fills 10 yards of inch pipe, the velocity dis- the mechanical properties of bodies possessed of difcharging a gallon in a minute by such a pipe would ferent chemical characters. (a. t.)

14

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I Jains. —JAINS (called by some Joinus), a sect or rather race of Hindoos, found in considerable numbers in different parts of India, particularly in the southern peninsula. They form a class of dissenters from the established faith of Brahminism, so generally considered throughout India as alone founded on an orthodox basis. They deny altogether the authority of the Vedas, regarded by the genuine Hindoo as the holiest of books. They either disown, or sink into a subordinate station, all the grand objects of Hindoo veneration. In their hypothesis concerning the origin of the world, they have adopted opinions which seem to partake of the character of atheism. They do not, like the followers of the Vedas, acknowledge any spiritual and eternal Being, from whom the universe derived its origin. The material world, as well as the minds of all men and animals, are held by them to be eternal. They refuse to acknowledge any thing which is not, or has not been, the object of the senses. Upon this principle they deny the existence of any beings superior to man, and admit no objects of worship except men who have raised themselves by their merits to the rank of divinities. As, however, they set no bounds to the perfection which the human soul may arrive at, their most eminent saints and pontiffs (among whom they particularly celebrate Gomat Iswara Swami) partake almost the attributes of Supreme divinity. To this station, however, they are exalted, not in consequence of a virtuous life, or of benefits rendered to mankind, but of those excesses of absurd and extravagant penance to which, throughout all India, such sovereign merit is attached. They have three ranks of ascetics, whom they call Yatis-. The first, called Anuvrata, can be attained only by him who forsakes his family, entirely cuts off his hair, holds always in his hand a bundle of peacock’s feathers and an earthen pot, and wears only clothes of a tawny colour. The second rank, Mahavrata, requires that all dress should be abandoned, except a mere rag to cover nakedness, and that the hair, instead of being shaven off, should be pulled out by the roots. He who aspires still higher, and seeks to attain the third degree, or Nirvajia, throws aside even rags, and remains entirely naked; he eats nothing but rice, and that only once in two days. The name is nearly synonymous with that of Deity, and he is held in nearly equal veneration with the priests and rajas, whose images are worshipped in the temples. At Billicull, or Belligola, the residence of their high priest, they have a gigantic image of Gomat Iswara Swami, the foot of which is nine feet in length, so that the height of the entire statue cannot be less than fifty-four feet; and there is a similar one at Kurcul, near Mangalore. This worship of gigantic images is common to them with the followers of Boodha, whom they also closely resemble in

Jains their theological tenets; nay, Samana and Gaudma, 11 the main objects of Boodh veneration, are enumerated Jams, by the Jains among the earliest and most venerated ofv their priests. On the other hand, they differ from them entirely in being divided into four casts, distinguished from each other by the same privileges and manners as among other Hindoos. The Jains observe also similar penances, carrying them only to a greater extreme. They are also scrupulous to a still greater degree as to causing the death of any living thing, even the minutest insect. The strictest Jains, to guard against this danger, do not eat after sunset ; they have always a small broom to sweep the ground before them, and never drink water unless strained through a cloth. The orthodox Hindoos have ceremonies by which any involuntary offence of this kind may be expiated; but the Jains, not allowing the efficacy of these, have no means of relieving their soul from the burden of such a trespass. Like the other Hindoos, they consider it unlawful for the widow to marry again, but discourage the barbarous practice of sacrificing herself on the body of the husband. On the whole, it would appear that while their doctrines and belief closely coincide with those of the Boodhists, their civil and social life is discriminated only by minute shades from that of the Hindoos. They have a system of their own with regard to history, chronology, and physics, of which we need only observe, that its tenets are still more extravagant and absurd than those contained in the orthodox pages of the Vedas and Puranas. See Asiatic Annual Register, Vol. IX.—Dubois on the Manners of the People of India, Lond. 1817*— Ward on the History, Literature, and Religion of the Hindoos. Lond. 1817(b.) JAUTS, a people of Hindostan, who have at different times made some figure in its annals. The first historical mention of them occurs at the beginning of the eleventh century, on the invasion of India by Mahmond the Gaznevide. That conqueror found them established on the eastern bank of the Indus, prepared to oppose his passage. For this purpose they had mustered a large fleet of boats, to the number, according to some accounts, of eight thousand. They were completely defeated, however, and driven into the mountainous districts in the interior of India. From this time the Jauts remained in obscurity, till the reign of Aurengzebe. Churamana, a Jaut of some distinction, collected then some troops of banditti, with whom he began to commit depredations on travellers. Popular and enterprising, he gradually rose from a captain of robbers to be a powerful chieftain, and availing himself of Aurengzebe’s absence in the Decan, became the terror of the country round. He had even the audacity, on one occasion, to plunder the rear of that monarch’s army; and, when pursued, took refuge among the

Jauts

J A U mountains of Narwar, where he eluded all attempts

Java ^ extirpate his force. Under the growing imbeci„ aVa' _ . Jity of Aurengzebe’s successors, the Jauts continual^ ly extended their power, till at length, during the weak reign of Mahommed Shaw, and under'’their enterprising head, Sooraje Mull, it rose to its utmost height. That chief wrested continually new concessions from the weak emperor, till he was able almost to dictate the counsels of the M^ogul court. iV reverse, however, took place on the invasion of northern India by Ahmed Shaw, the sovereign of Caubul. Soox-aje Mull, having opposed that invader, saw his territory overrun, and was obliged to seek aid from the Mahratta power. When the Mahrattas, however, invaded Delhi, the Jaut chief went over to Ahmed Shaw, and offered to atone for former hostility by his services on that critical occasion. The battle of Panniput followed, in which the Mahrattas were totally routed, and their power for the time entirely broken. Ahmed Shah rewarded the services rendered by his new ally in this hour of need, by the important cession of Agra and its district. Sooraje Mull, and his son Jowalier Sing, made repeated attempts to obtain possession of Delhi, but weie always baffled by untoward circumstances. Jowalier Sing was assassinated by an impostor, who had undertaken to initiate him in the secret of the philosopher s stone. He left his son an infant; a circumstance which, affording an open field to’the dissensions of the chiefs, weakened the Jaut power, and rendered it unable to contend with the otherfierce competitors for the spoils of the Mogul. In their contests, particularly with Nujeeph Khan, they were gradually stripped of all their possessions, and at length reduced to the fortress of Bhurtpoor, with a small surrounding district. When the British power became predominant in this part of India, Runjeet Sing, Raja of the Jauts, sought security by concluding a treaty with Lord Lake, by which, on engaging to assist Britain against all enemies, he not v only retained the internal government of his territories, but was even exempted from paying any tribute. Yet, in 1805, after the defeat of Holkar, he leceived that chief, with his discomfited army, into Bhurtpoor. The place sustained a most desperate siege, and cost the British army an immense number of lives. At length the Rajah, despairing of effectual resistance, agreed to compel Holkar to quit the place, and to give it up to the British, on condition of retaining the government of his territories, and the fortress of Deeg. He was obliged, however, to pay twenty lacks of rupees, and to give ample security for a more faithful observance of this treaty than of the former. See Asiatic Annual Register for 1802 Mill’s Histerry of British India, 3 vols. 4to. Lond. 1818. (b.) JAVA. The Encyclopcedia contains a short description of this extensive and important island. Since that article was written, a large mass of valuable information has been communicated to the public in the History of Java, by Sir Stamford Raffles, who, in the capacity of Governor of the Island, enjoyed ample means of gratifying his liberal spirit ot inquiry; and in the History of the Indian Archipelago, by Mr Crawfurd, late Resident at the Court

J A V 15 of the Sultan of Java;—a work equally distinguish- Java, ed by accurate observation and philosophical reflection. Of all the islands which compose the great Indian Manners ot Archipelago, Java, though not the most extensive,t,le Java~ 11656 is the most fertile, the most populous, and the most * improved. Among the two races of people who inhabit the Oriental Islands, distinguished into the brown coloured race, and the Papuas, or Oriental negroes, the natives of Java belong to the former. They are under the middle size, the standard for men being five feet two inches, and for women four feet eleven inches. Their complexion is a yellowish brown, generally without any tincture of red. Of this colour they admire the fair specimens, and their standard beauty is a virgin gold ; but they consider the European white as a sickly tint. They have a round face, little black eyes, a small nose, and a large mouth, with thick lips. On the head, beard, and other parts of the body, there is a remarkable deficiency of hair. Compared with the Europeans and Southern Asiatics, they are considered by Mr Cravvfurd as an ill-looking race; but the opinion of Sir S. Raffles is, in this respect, more favourable. Their constitution is healthy, and they seem to attain a longevity equal to that of Europeans. Early marriages are as universal as among other Asiatics, a man being scarcely ever known single at twentyfive, while an unmarried female at eighteen is considerbd an old maid. The lot of the female sex differs considerably from what it usually is among Asiatics. They are by no means immured with the same jealousy; British gentlemen have even been admitted to visit the harams of the sultans and chiefs, where they were received by the ladies with all the dignified propriety of persons accustomed to mix in general society. To women, the commercial and pecuniary affairs of the family are almost wholly entrusted. Of these privileges and advantages, they are said not always to make the very best use. The right of divorce, with which they are indulged equally with the other sex, is carried by them beyond all excusable limits. It is very common for a woman, before the age of thirty, to have divorced three or four husbands ; and Mr Crawfurd had one pointed out to him who was living with her twelfth. No difficulty occurs in regard to the disposal of the children, who, in Java, are never viewed in the light of a burden. Besides being easily supported, they are usually few in number, a circumstance ascribed to the hard labour which the mothers undergo, and the consequent frequency of abortion. Besides the management of the household, they weave all the cloths worn in the family, and perform various other offices, which in Europe devolve on the other sex. Polygamy is permitted by law, but it is known only among the great; and, even with them, the first wife alone is of their own rank, and mistress of the family ; the others occupy a place decidedly inferior. The natives of Java were drawn by their Dutch masters in very dark colours: but the English residents, after careful observation, have described them much more favourably. They are generous, warm-hearted, and susceptible of strong attachments. Their affections of kindied are peculiarly forcible; so that, even in civiL

16 Java,

J A V contests, those fraternal enmities, so conspicuous in other Asiatic states, are scarcely ever observable. The English, who placed confidence in them, found them honest in the intercourse of common life; and they share only in a slight degree those habits of piracy for which the Malay tribes are so notorious. In society they are uncommonly good humoured, courteous, and polite, and scarcely ever seen in a passion, unless on those occasions when they are hurried to the last extreme of violence. These unhappily too often occur, under the impulse of that violent jealousy and revenge which form their ruling passions. The disregard of human life seems to proceed to an excess among them, scarcely known in any other quarter of the globe. It is stated that, in any part of Java, an assassin may be hired for the moderate sum of fifteen or twenty shillings; but, in general, the injured party conceives it more honourable to decline this cheap mode of redress, and to seek vengeance with his own hand. Some, driven to the extreme of desperation, run furiously into the streets, and kill indiscriminately all whom they meet, till they are themselves overpowered and cut down. This dreadful atrocity which, by a corruption of the native term, is called “ running a muck,” is said, however, to prevail, not among the native Javanese, but among the other Malay tribes, resiuent in the capital. Religion. In the ancient religion of the Javanese, which was undoubtedly derived from Hindostan, Siwa, with his family, and Buddha, were the chief objects of adoration. Their temples appear, from the late inquiries of our countrymen, to have rivalled the splendour of those erected in the native seats of their religion. In the course of the fifteenth century, the whole island of Java was, by Arab traders and settlers, converted to Mahomedanism. This faith, however, which is generally observed with so much strictness, is professed here in a very loose and imperfect manner. It need only be observed, that wine and spirits are not only used without scruple on ordinary occasions, but are even sometimes produced at religious festivals. An extreme indifference prevails as to all its outward observances. In return, superstitious credulity prevails to a degree almost unparalleled. A belief in sorcery is universal. If a person write the name of another on a scull, bone, or leg, and suspend it from a tree on haunted ground, where two roads meet, the laws doom to death, himself, his friends, his children, and his children’s children. Availing themselves of this credulity, various persons usually start up, in troubled times, as saints, prophets, or as the descendants of one of the ancient kings of Java, and attract a multitude of followers. Christianity has not obtained any footing in Java; and Mr Crawfurd doubts if it ever will, till the conduct of its Indian professors becomes more conformable to its precepts. Language. The Javanese language is the most copious and improved of any used in the Indian islands. It has Sanscrit for its basis, but with considerable variations. In the beauty of its written characters, it is not surpassed by any of the languages of Asia. It is distinguished by its vast copiousness as to particular, and barrenness as to general terms. Thus there are

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five names for a dog, and seven for a horse, but no Java, general word for an animal. The abstract terms, ‘ nature, space, and others of that kind, are entirely wanting. All their literature, as usual among rude nations, is metrical, and may be divided into lyrical compositions or songs; romances founded on Hindu legends; romances founded on modern story; histories of modern transactions ; legal and ethical tracts, chiefly in prose. Of these compositions, the songs, in which feeling and passion are simply expressed, appear to be the most pleasing. The romances consist chiefly of abridged translations of the Mahabarat and Ramayana, from the Hindoo original into a now dead Javanese language, called the Kavoi. These versions, being free from the endless prolixity of the originals, may be read with greater pleasure. Java had no history previous to the Mahommedan invasion ; and even now, its annals consist merely of metrical legends, which being written under the eye of the prince whose deeds they relate, cannot be suspected of very strict impartiality. Besides the rudeness of these compositions, there is an absence of that energy, ardour, and sublimity, which have often characterized the poetry of far ruder nations. This seems justly ascribed to the despotic form of the government, which represses all the nobler sentiments natural to independent man, when individual character is permitted to unfold itself. The government of Java is more absolute than that Governof any other part of the Archipelago, and differs lit- ment. tie in this respect from the great monarchies of Asia. There is no rank but what emanates from the sovereign ; and no bounds are set to the marks of respect shown by inferiors to the higher classes. No individual, of whatever rank, can stand in the presence of a superior, not even the heir-apparent in that of the sovereign. Whenever a chief appears in public, all his inferiors must throw themselves into the posture called dodok, which may be rendered by the English term “ squattingin which they remain till he disappears. Sir S. Raffles describes himself as much annoyed at seeing, in one of his progresses, the whole population of the country quitting their work, and remaining fixed in this uneasy posture so long as he remained in sight. They have a language, or at least a modification of the common language, which must be used by the inferior, in addressing those of higher rank. The revenue of the sovereign, as usual in Asiatic despotisms, arises from the rent of all the cultivated lands in the country, levied in kind, and in the enormous proportion of one-half of the entire produce. This, however, by the allowance of one-sixth for reaping, is reduced to about two-fifths. It is paid, not into the treasury, but by the king assigning to each of his officers and servants a certain number of cultivators, whose rents he is to receive. The Javan farmer is supposed, on the whole, to be more mildly treated than the Hindoo. Java is the most fertile of the eastern islands. To Soil and this, its lofty mountains and its extensive plains equal- Produce, ly contribute. The copious streams, descending from the higher regions, not only supply the requisite moisture, but cover the vallies with deposits of 12

J A V J A V 17 Java, rich soil. Along the foot of the mountains, this is Though the cane be a native of the Indian islands, Java, v-"-'' ten, twelve, or even fifty feet deep, and of the most the art of making sugar has been introduced from excellent quality. Farther from the mountains its Europe. The rich soil of Java is perfectly suited to811^fertility becomes less conspicuous; but almost every this culture, which is reckoned to be carried on there where throughout the island, the combined influence 125 per cent, cheaper than in the British West In* of heat and moisture is sufficient to raise good dies. Ihe produce of Java consists of clayed sugar, crops. wmc equals or surpasses in quality any other except Teak. Tiie most important natural production of Java is the Havannah. Hence has arisen an extraordinary the teak. This valuable timber is produced abundant- demand, wTjich, in the course of a few years, has ly only in Malabar, the Birman empire, and Java. It raised the produce to six times its former amount. requires a rich soil to come to perfection, and attains In 1818, it was so high as 27,400,000 lbs. The to maturity in eighty or a hundred years. On the molasses, combined in the proportion of 62 parts plains it acquires a larger growth, but is not so hard with 35 of rice, and 3 of palm wine, yield the arrack as when growing on the mountains, where, however, for which Java is famous, though it is now made it scarcely thrives more than three or four thousand chiefly for internal consumption. feet above the level of the sea. The teak of Java lobacco, another article unknown previous to Eu-,T0ka' racter, four vesicles divided into lobes, under the thorax and the base of the abdomen, which can be if light, is elevated on a hillock. V. Pentamera Palpicornua.—The maxillary withdrawn or exerted and inflated at pleasure. The Melyridje have the palpi filiform, as Melyris, palpi nearly equal, or surpass the elevated antennae Dasytes, and Drilus; while in Clerusid.®, the pal- in length. These last are inserted in a pit beneath an unusual production of the anterior margin of the pi are securiform as Clerus, Tillus, and Lnoplium. In those families where the body and elytra are head. In the Hydrophilid®, the first joint of the firm and crustaceous, the Ptinusid® have the head tarsus is abbreviated, and the legs are flattened, and and thorax narrower than the abdomen, with the an- formed for swimming, as Hydrophilus, Spercheus, tennae about the length of the body as Ptinus and Elophorus, and Hydraena. In the Spheridiad®, the Gibbium ; and the Anobiumed®, having the thorax five joints of the tarsus are distinct, as in Spheriof the size of the abdomen, and the antennae much dium and Cercyon. VI. Pentamera Lamellicornua.—The insects shorter than the body, as Anobium, Ptilenus, and of this division are readily recognized by their clubDorcatoma. There are several genera which agree with some shaped antennae, the extremity of which is divided of the preceding in the softness of their bodies, but into laminae, capable of receding or approaching at whose mandibles are entire at the apex. In some of pleasure. The Lucanid® differ from all the rest of these the palpi are filiform, as in the Cebrionid®, this tribe in the laminae of the club of the antennae, which have tarsal joints entire, as Cebrio and Ham- being placed (not as in the other families, approximonia ; and in Scirtesid®, which have the penul- mating at the base, and opening and shutting like timate joint of the tarsus bifid, as Scirtes, Elodes, the leaves of a book, but) like the teeth of a comb, Rhipicera, and Dascillus. In others, the palpi, es- perpendicular to the axis, as Lucanus, Sinodendron, pecially the maxillary ones, become thicker towards Esalus, Lamprina, Platyceres, and Passalus. In the the extremities. In the Lampyrid® the antennae Coprid®, the membranaceous termination of the are approximate at the base, and the maxillary are maxillae is large and transverse; the antennae have longer than the labial palpi, as in Lampyrus, Lycus, eight or nine joints ; the labrum is concealed by the and Omalisus. In the Telephorid®, the antennae semicircular margin of the head; the mandibles are at the base are remote, and the labial and maxillary soft; and the last joint of the labial palpi comparapalpi are nearly of equal length, as in lelephorus tively small, as Copris, Aleuchus, and Aphodius. The Geotrupid® have the terminal joint of the laand Malthinus. IV. Pentamera Clavicornua.—The antennae bial palpi as large as the preceding one; the antenare here obviously club-shaped, perfoliated or solid, n® have eleven joints, and the mandibles are horny, generally exposed at the base, and longer than the as Geotrupes, Lethrus, and Typh®us. In the maxillary palpi. In a few genera, forming the fami- Scarabeid® the antenn® have nine joints. The laly Dryopsid®, the first and second joints of the an- bium is concealed by the mentum, asScarabeus,Trox, tennae are enlarged, and the remainder form a club Egialia, Oryctes, Hexodon, and Rutella. The Melonearly solid, so that they appear three jointed ; as lonthad® have the mandibles greatly concealed by Dryops, Hydera, and Heterocerus. In the remain- the head and the maxill®, as Melolontha and Anoing families, the antennae increase more gradually plognathus. In the Glaphyrid® the labium is adfrom the base, and the club consists of several joints. vanced and divided into three lobes, as Glaphyrus, In some of these the pectoral sternum is produced Amphicoma, and Anisonix. The Trichiad® have under the head towards ihe mouth. In the Histe- membranaceous mandibles, as Trichius, Goliathus, rid®, the mandibles are prominent, and the anten- Cetonia, and Crematoschalus. II. Coleoptera Heteromera.—The insects benae geniculated, as Hister, Abraeus, Onthophilus, Dendrophilus, and Platysoma. In the Byrrhid®, longing to this great subdivision have the tarsi of the antennae are straight, as Byrrhus, Throscus, An- the fore and mid legs furnished with five joints, as tbrenus, Chelonarium, Nosodendron, Elmis, Ma* in the preceding, but the tarsi of the hind legs have cronychus, Georessus, and Megatoma. In other only four joints. In a few genera, as Rhinomacer, genera, the pectoral sternum is abbreviated in the Rhinosimus, and Stenostoma, constituting the famiusual form, as the Dermestid®, which have the ly Rhinomacerid®, the front of the head is admandibles, short, thick, and straight, at the extremi- vanced into a snout, on which are seated the anty, as Dermestes and Attagenus. In the remaining tenn®. In the remaining genera, the front exhibits families, the mandibles are lengthened, compressed, the usual characters. In some, the head is trianguand hooked, at their extremity. The Nitidulid®, lar, or heart-shaped, and is furnished with a neck, the mandibles are notched, bifid, or furnished with a and the maxill® have no corneous tooth on their intooth at their extremity, as Nitidula, Biturus, Cate- ner edge. Among these, there aTe some which have retes, Micropaplus, Thymalus, Colobicus, Engis, the claws simple, as the Pyrochroid®, with biloIps, Scaphi^ium, Scaphisoma, and Choleva. The Sie- bate tarsi, including the genera Pyrochroa, Notoxus, phid® have the extremities of the mandibles entire, Scraptia, and Dendrocera. In the Mordellad®, as Silpha and Necrophorus. The insects of this family in which the tarsi of the hind legs at least are simare reputed to feed on carrion, and to dig under dead ple, are included the Mordella, Rhipiphorus, Anapmice and moles, and bury them in order to feast up- sis, Horea, and Apalus, Among others, the claws on them more securely. These statements are with- are double, or deeply divided. In the genus Teout foundation. They feed on maggots, and their traonix, the penultimate joint of the tarsi is bilobate, pup®; and, in penetrating the ground in search of in the others entire. In the Mylabrid®, the an11

I N S E C T A. . 51 Insecta. tennae are thickened at the extremity, as in Myla- Lanugria, and Phalacrus. In others, the antennae Insecta. bris, Hycleus, Cerocoma, while in the Cantharid^s, are filiform. In the Cerambicid.e, the labium is dithe antennae are of equal thickness throughout, or lated and heart-shaped at the extremity, including rather taper towards the point, as Cantharis, Meloe, the genera Cerambix, Prionus, Callidium, Necydalis, Saperda, Lamia, Stencorus, Leptura, together Zonites, and Onas. Among those genera which have the head oval with Spondylis and Parandra. In the Chrysomeand destitute of a neck, there are some which have linida:, the antennae are shorter than in the prethe maxillae furnished with a corneous tooth on the ceding family, and the labium is plain. It includes inner side. The elytra in some are free, and cover the following genera, Chrysomela, Cassida, Cryptomembranaceous wings, as the Tenebrionidai:, in- cephalus, Clythra, Galeruca, Altica, Hispa, Criocluding Tenebrio, Opatrum, Crypticus, Sarrotrium, ceris, Donacia, and Sagra. In those which have not eleven joints in the anand Toxicum. In many other genera, the elytra are united, and the membranaceous wings are nearly tennae, and the third tarsal joints bilobate at the obliterated. Some of these have the maxillary pal- same time, there are some which have the third tarpi filiform, with the last joint nearly cylindrical. sal joints entire. The MvcETOPHAGiniE have eleThe Erodiusida: have the maxillae covered with the ven joints in the antennae, as Mycetophagus, Uleiota, mentum, as Erodius and Pimelia. In the Scauuu- Cucujus, Agathidium, Zylophila, Meryx, and TrosioiE, the base of the jaws are exposed, as Scaurus, gossita. In the Bostrichida:, the joints of the anTagenia, Sepidium, Moluris, Tentyria, Hegester, tennae do not exceed ten, as Bostrichus, Cerylon, Eurychora, and Akis. Others have the extremity Nemosoma, Cis, Cerapterus, and Pausus. The Scoof the maxillary palpi enlarged, or securiform. In lytusidae have the penultimate tarsal joint bilobate, the AsiDADiE, the base of the maxillae is concealed as Scolytus and Phloiotribus. IV. Coleoptera Trimera The tarsi in this by a large mentum, as Asida and Chiroscelis. In the Beapsidte, the base of the maxillae is exposed, division are all three-jointed. The antennae are clavate. In the Coccinellidae, the antennae are shortas in Blaps, Misolampus, and Pedinus. The genera, in which the maxillae are destitute of er than the thorax, as Coccinella and Chilocorus. a corneous tooth on the inner side, are likewise nu- In Endomychida;, the antennae are longer than the merous. Many of them have the antennae cylindri- thorax, as in Endomychus, Lycoperdina, Dascarus, cal, or slightly tapering. The Melandriadae have and Eumorphus. V. Coleoptera Dimera.—The tarsal joints are the penultimate joint of all the tarsi bilobate, as Melandria, Lagria, Calopus, Nothus, Odemera, Ste- only three in number. The genera hitherto deternostoma, and Rynomacer. In the Helopsida:, the mined amount only to two, as Claviger and Pselajoints of the tarsi, at least those of the hind legs, are phus. The latter, however, has been recently conentire, as Helops, Serropalpus, Hallomenus, Pytho, stituted into a family, Pselaphidje, including PselaNilio, and Cistela. Others have the antennae more phus, Euplectus, Bythenus, Areopagus, Tychus, and or less club-shaped, and generally perfoliated. The Bryaxis. Heleada:, including the genera Helea and CossyCLASS. II. phus, have the head concealed, or received into a STREPSIPTERA. notch in the front of the thorax. The remaining This class wras instituted by Mr Kirby, one of the families have the head exposed and projecting. In most acute and intelligent observers among the Engthe Diaperidte, the insertion of the antennae is concealed by the lateral margin of the head, as in Dia- lish entomologists. The elytra (if such they can be peris, Hypophleus, Trachyscelis, Eledona, Cnoda- called) are coriaceous, and arise, not from the upper lon, and Epitragus. In the Leiodesidje, the in- side of the breast, but from the base of the coxae of sertion of the antennae is exposed, as in Leiodes, the anterior pair of legs, consequently they are remote from each other. They first recede from the Tetratoma, Eustrophus, and Orchesia. III. Coleoptera Tetramera.—The tarsal joints body, then approach, and lastly recede again, exof all the feet are four in number. They are phyti- hibiting a tortuous course. They do not cover the vorous, and live chiefly in wood or on flowers. In wings. These last are firmly membranaceous, and one extensive group, the head is produced in front, their ribs are simple, diverging from the base, and in the form of a snout. Among these there are folding longitudinally like a fan. The parts of the two genera, Bruchus and Anthribus, in which the mouth are obscure, apparently consisting of two misnout is short, and the labrum and palpi distinct. nute two-jointed palpi and two maxillae, thus intiIn the remaining genera the snout is long, and the mating that the imago consumes but little food, and labrum and palpi obscure. In the Curculioni- is short lived. The antennae arise, each of them, dje, including the genera Curculio, Rhynchaenus, from a common jointed base, and afterwards divide. Cionus, Calandra, and Rhina, the antennas are The eyes are pedunculated, two in number, and distinctly geniculated. The Brentusidoe have an- compound, with elevated septa, dividing the hexagotennae destitute of the knee, as Brentus, Orchestes, nal lenses; the terminal segment of the abdomen Rhamphus, Brachycerus, Cylas, Apoderus, Attela- ends in a reflected process. The larva inhabits hybus, and Apion. In another group, equally nume- menopterous insects, in which it changes into a pupa rous, the forehead is of the usual size. Among coarctata with the head exserted. This order contains only two genera, Stylops and these, there are some which have eleven joints in the antennae, and the third joint of the tarsi bilobate. Zenos. In the former, the upper branches of the anThe antennae, in some, terminate in a perfoliate club, tennae are jointed, in the latter they are simple. The as the Erotylusida;, including Erotylus, Triplax, Stylops melitta and tenucornis are natives of Britain.

INSECT A. 52 Insecta. Since the institution of this class, doubts have upper wings are true elytra, crustaceous, or coriace- Insecta. v^^been entertained as to the propriety of denominat- ous, with membranaceous extremities overlapping ing the twisted processes which arise from the sides each other; while, in others, the upper wings are of the thorax, elytra. Latreille and Lamark, with- wholly membranaceous. In some of the genera, out indicating much reluctance to increase the syno- the males only are winged, or they are all apterous. nimes of the science, or delicacy towards the natu- They agree, however, in the characters exhibited by ralist who first instituted the class, have suppressed the parts of the mouth. These are formed for suckthe term Strepsiptera, the former substituting that of ing. The labium is produced, with a canal on its Rhipitera, the latter, with more classical propriety, upper surface, and consists of several joints. The Rhipidoptera (from in reference to the fan- mandibulae and maxillae appear like four hairs, which, by their union, form the haustellum. The shaped wings. labrum is more or less produced as a covering to the CLASS III. base of these organs. The palpi are nearly obliterated. The metamorphosis is here semicomplete. DERMAPTERA. In this class, the elytra are short, coriaceous, This class is divided into two orders, which, in the with a straight suture. The wings are membrana- opinion of some naturalists, ought to be elevated to ceous, with longitudinal ribs, connected in the mar- the rank of classes. I. Hemiptera Heteroptera.—These have the gin by a transverse one; they are folded when at elytra crustaceous at the base, and the extremities rest longitudinally and transversely. The mandibles ✓ are bidentate. The maxilla have a scaly cylindri- folding over each other, and membranaceous. The cal appendix or galea. There are no pyloric caeca. rostrum is attached to the front of the head. The The tarsal joints are three in number. The meta- first segment of the thorax larger than the second ; morphosis is semicomplete. This class comprehends ocelli, two. The Heteroptera admit of subdivision the terrestrial and aquatic. the following genera: Forficula, Labia, and Labidura. intoThe terrestrial heteroptera have two ocelli, the CLASS IV. antennae exposed, longer than the head, and inserted between the eyes near the inner margin. Some of ORTHOPTERA. these have the labium of four joints, and the labrum The elytra, in the insects of this class, are coria- long, subulate, and striated above. Among these the ceous, and at their inner margin overlap each other. Pentatomad^e have five-jointed antennae, as PenThe under wings are membranaceous, and have nu- tatoma, Cydnus, Tetyra, and Elia. The Corejdas merous longitudinal ribs crossed alternately at right have only four joints in the antennae, as Coreus, Beangles by an infinity of transverse ones, so that their rytus, Lygaeus, Capsus, Miris, and Mydocha. In reticulations, or little squares, are usually arranged another group, the labium consists of only three like bricks in a wall; when at rest these are fold- joints, sheathing the labrum, which is short. In the ed longitudinally, and unfold like a fan. The parts Reduviadje, the rostrum is curved, as Reduvius of the mouth are similar to the coleoptera, with the and Plocaria; while in Cimicid^e it is straight, as in addition of the galea protecting the maxillae at the Cimex, Tingis, Aradus, and Phymata. In a third sides. The alimentary canal is furnished with a group the labium consists of two or three joints, and membranaceous crop, and a muscular stomach, arm- does not embrace the labrum, as the Acanthidje, ed with corneous scales. The pyloric cceca receive including Acanthia and Galgulus. the biliary vessels, and a few likewise terminate in The aquatic heteroptera live in or upon the water. the intestine. The larvae exhibit a pupa semi com- They are destitute of ocelli. In the Hydrometripleta. In all the stages of existence they live on dje, including Hydrometra, Velia, and Gerris, the the land. antennae are long, and inserted between the eyes. In Among the Orthoptera, there are several genera the remaining families, the antennae are short, and with their wings, when at rest, roof-like. These have inserted under the eyes, and are shorter than the either the tarsi with four joints, as the Locustadje, head. In the Nepad^e, the tarsi of the fore-legs are or the tarsi have only threejoints, as the Achetad^e, indistinct, as Naucoris, Nepa, and Ranatra. In the including the genera Acheta, I ruxalis, Ziphicera, Notonectadae, the anterior tarsi are distinct, as in Acrydium, and Pneumora. Notonecta, Plea, Sigara, and Corixa. In the remaining genera, the wings are horizontal. II. Hemiptera Homoptera—In the insects of Among these the Gryllid;E, including Gryllus, this division, the rostrum seems to originate from the Tridactylus, and Gryllotalpa, have the body not flat- chin. The second segment of the thorax is as long tened, nor the sides truncated, but the abdomen is as the first. There are two or three ocelli. The furnished with appendages. In the genus Blatta, Cicadiad^e have three joints in the tarsi, the antenthe body is depressed, and the sides truncated, with nae consist of six joints, and there are three ocelli, abdominal appendages. The remaining genera, with as Cicada. The Fulgorada have three tarsal joints, horizontal wings, are destitute ot the abdominal ap- and only three joints to the antennae, and two ocelli, pendages. These are the Mantid^e, including as Fulgora, Flata, Issus, Tettigometra, and Delphax. Mantes, Empusa, Phasma, and Spectrum. The Cercopidas differ from the preceding in the antennae being inserted between the eyes, as CerCLASS V. copis, Etalion, Ledra, Membracis, and Tettigonia. HEMIPTERA. The Aphisid.® have two joints in the tarsi, as Aphis, The insects of this class exhibit considerable dif- Psylla, Thrips, and Aleyrodes. The Coccid® can ferences with regard to their wings. In some, the boast of only one tarsal joint, as Coccus.

Insecta.

I N S CLASS VI. TRICHOPTERA. The wings of the trichopterous insects are four in number, and membranaceous. The upper ones are usually of a darker colour and firmer consistence than the lower ones. The ribs, which are usually hairy, are disposed longitudinally, and when they do anastomose, the intervening spaces are lengthened. I he lower wings fold longitudinally. The mouth has a distinct labrum ; the maxillary palpi have five joints. I he labial palpi have only three joints, the last of which is a little enlarged. The maxillae and labium are united, but do not form a sucker. There are two large compound eyes, and two ocelli. The legs are spinous, and the tarsal joints five in number. The larvae live in the water in tubular dwellings, which they construct, and move about with, open at both ends, and consisting of bits of stick, sand, or shells. Hence, they are usually termed case worms. They change into a pupa incompleta in the tube, which they inhabited when larvae, and when ready foi exclusion, by means of the sheathed antennae, and fore and mid-legs, crawl out of the water, throw off the covering, and become inhabitants of the land. Leach has subdivided this class into two families. r I he Leptoceridje have the antennae much longer than the whole body, as Leptocerus and Odontoceius. I he PhrvganidtE have the antennae only the length of the body, as Phryganea and Limnephilus. CLASS VII. LEPIDOPTERA. This extensive and beautiful class consists of the buttei flies and moths. Ihe wings are four in number, membranaceous in texture, irregularly ribbed, and covered with coloured scales, in the form of a farinaceous powder. The parts of the mouth are formed for suction. There are only vestiges of the labrum and mandibulae. Ihe maxillae are produced, with a groove on the inner edge. When united, as they are naturally, they form a tubular proboscis, through which the animal obtains its food. The maxillary palpi are inserted upon the base externally, and are minute. The labium is short and without joints, and supports two obvious palpi with three joints. There are two compound eyes, and in some species two ocelli. The antennae consist of many joints, and are usually much longer than the head. Ihe segments of the thorax are united. The tarsal joints are six in number. The larvae have six feet with claws, and from four to ten others on the posterior portion of the body, which they use as suckers. Ihey are changed into a pupa obtecta. The genera are now divided into three orders, corresponding hena ^ Linnean genera papiho, Sphinx, and PhaI. Lepidoptera Diurna.— The upper wings, at least, m all the species are vertical in a state1 of rest, and the lower ones are destitute of hooks. The an ennae are clavated, or filiform, with hooked exlemities. Among these, the Papilionida: have le nn er tibiae furnished with two spines, situated a ie aisal end, as in Papilio, Parnassius, Thais,

E C T A. Pieris, Polyomatus, Heliconius, Danaus, Cethosia, Libythea, and Nymphalis. The Hesperiad^e, ineluding Hesperia and Urania, have four spines to the hinder tibiae, two in the middle and two at the tarsal extremity, as in the remaining lepidoptera. II. Lepidoptera Crepuscularia The wings are horizontal in repose, and the under ones are furnished with a spine under the base, at the external margin which enters a hook on the lower side of the upper wings, as in the following division. The antennae are prismatic and fusiform. The Glaucopid^e have the antennae bipectinated in the male at least, as Glaucopis, Stygia, and Procris. The antennae, in the remaining genera, are simple in both sexes. The ZyGENiDiiE have the palpi slender and hairy, as Zygena, Sesia, and Macroglossum. The SphinGiDiE have large scaly palpi, as Sphinx, Smerinthus, and Castinea. III. Lepidoptera iSocturna.—The insects included under this division have setaceous antenna;, diminishing in thickness from the base to the point! Among these, there are several families, in which the wings, when at rest, fold round the body. The Pterophoridas have the margins of two^ of the wings, at least, divided into processes at each rib, as Pterophorus and Orneodes. The other families of the division have the four wings entire. The Tineada: have only two palpi apparent, as Tinea, Yponomeuta, Oecophora, Lithosia, and Adela. In the Alucitada:, there are four palpi apparent, as Alucita, Crambus, and Galleria. Other families have the wings at rest, lying upon the body without inclosing it, and by their union form a lengthened triangle. J he Aglossadaj have four apparent palpi, as Aglossa and Botys. The Pyradidas have only two apparent palpi, as Pyralis, Hermenia, and Platypterix. In the third division, the wings do not rest upon the body so as to form a triangle. This extensive family includes the following genera, Phalaena, Campaea, Noctua, Callimorpha, Bombyx, Furcula, Hepialus, and Cossus. M. Savigny has observed, that, in those cases where the maxillary palpi have only two joints, the proboscis is naked or pubescent; and when they consist of three joints, the proboscis is always scaly. CLASS VIII. NEUROPTERA. The wings in this class are generally four in number, wholly membranaceous, transparent, and greatly reticulated by the anastomosing ribs. The under wings are either larger or longer than the upper ones. The labrum, mandibulae, maxillae, and labium, are of the ordinary size, and formed for cutting There are two large eyes, and two or three ocelli The segments of the thorax are united, support the six legs, and are distinct from the abdomen. In some of the families, the antennae are about the length of the head, subulate, and consist of from three to seven joints, the last of which is setaceous. Among these the Libellulada:, including Libellula, Aeshna, and Agrion, have three tarsal joints, the mandibulae and maxillae corneous, and the terminal ring of the abdomen, furnished with hooks or scales. In the Ephemerada:, the mandibles are obscure,

o3 Insecta.

I N S E C T A. 54 ter. In the Sirexidje the piercer consists only of Insecta. insecta. the tarsal joints four in number, and the terminal three valves, the lateral ones serving as sheaths, as ring of the abdomen furnished with setae, as in Sirex and Oryssus. In the Tenthredad^e, includEphemera, Baetis, and Cloeon. ing Tenthredo, Cimbex, Hylotoma, Xiphedria, and In other families, the antennae are. much longer Pamphilius, the piercer consists of four valves, the than the head, and consist of sixteen joints and up- internal pair serrated. wards. Among these the Panorpad^, including II. Hymenoptera Aculeata.—In this order are Panorpa, Nemoptera, Bittaces, and Boreus, have the included such as have no ovipositor or piercer. The front produced into a snout. 1 he remaining families abdomen in the females, however, is usually furnishhave the front short. In the Mvrmelionedje the ed with a sting, and poison bags. The antennae antennae are clavate, and the palpi six in number, as have thirteen joints in the male, and twelve in the Mvrmelion and Ascalapus. The two remaining fafemale. These may be again reduced into two divimilies have filiform antennae. The I ermesidas have sions. In the first, the feet are not formed for colfrom two to three tarsal joints, as Termes and 1 socus. lecting pollen, and the firsttarsal joints are cylindrical. The Hemerobiadje have four or five tarsal joints, Among these, there are two families, in which the as Hemerobius, Raphidia, Mantispa, Scabs, Coryda- ocelli are indistinct, and the neuters or females are lis, Chauliodes, and Osmylus. The PfiRLADiE, in- apterous. The Formicad^e, including formica, cluding Perl a and Netnoura, have the inferior wings Polyergus, Ponera, Myrmica, Atta, and Cryptocefolded longitudinally. rus, have males, females, and neuters, the last of CLASS IX. which are apterous. They live in societies. Ihe MuTiLLADiE have no neuters, and the females are HYMENOPTERA. apterous, as Mutilla, Dorylus, and Labidus. They are The wings are four in number, membranaceous, solitary. The others have the ocelli distinct, and are and divided into large unequal meshes by the anas- all furnished with wings. Among these there are tomosing ribs. The under wings are the smallest. some families in which the wings are always expandThe organs of the mouth are adapted both for cut- ed. In the Scoliadje, the first segment of the thorax ting and sucking. For the former operation the la- is large, and extends above to the base of the upper brum and mandibulse are sufficiently strong; while wings, as in Scolia, Tiphia, Sapyga, Thynnus, and the maxillae are, together with the labium, more oi Pampilus. In the Sphexid.®, the first segment of the less produced, and by their union form a sucker. thorax is narrow and distant above from the base of They have two labial and two maxillary palpi, ihe the upper wings, as in Sphex, Bembex, Larra, Craeyes are large, and the ocelli three in number Ihe bro, and Philanthus. There are other families in females are armed with a sting or piercer. Many ot which the upper wings fold longitudinally. In the the species live in society, and exhibit, in the mag- MASARiDiE, the mandibles are narrow. There are nitude and regularity of their operations, the most only males and females, which are solitary, as Masastriking displays of the attributes of the social in- ris, Synagris, Eumenes, and Zethus. In the Vesstinct. The insects of this class admit of a division pADiE, which are social, there are males, females, into two orders. . and neuters; the mandibles are large, as Vespa and I. Hymenoptera Terebrantia.—The females Polistes. of this order are furnished with a produced oviposiIn nearly all the remaining genera, the hind legs tor, frequently of sufficient strength to pierce the are made for carrying pollen, having the first tarsal bodies in which the eggs are deposited. Among joint enlarged and compressed. Among these are these, there are two families in which the piercer is some in which the tongue, or intermediate process of tubular, and does not consist of separate valves. the labium, is as long, or longer than its sheath, and The CnRYSiDiE have the piercer formed of the last deflected when at rest. In the Apidse, which are rings of the body, retractile, and furnished with a social, there are males, females, and neuters, as Apis, small sting, as Chrysis, Parnopes, and Cleptes. In Melepona, Bombus, Euglossa, Eucera, aud Anthothe Oxyuridte, the piercer is protuberant, without phora. While agreeing with the preceding in many a sting, as Oxyurus and Drynus. In the remaining particulars, the following genera are destitute of the families the piercer consists of several valves. In expanded tarsal joint, for carrying pollen, Systropha, some of these the abdomen is united to the thorax Panurgus, Zylocopa, Ceratina, Megachile, Philereby a small portion of its transverse diameter. mus, and Nomada. Others have the tongue shorter Among these there are some which have all the than the sheath, as the Andrenadas, including Anwings with ribs. The Ichneumonid.® have upwards drena, Halectus, and Colletus. of twenty joints in the antennae, as m the following CLASS X. cenera, Ichneumon, Zorides, Crypturus, Agathis, DIPTERA. Sigalphus, and Alysia. In the Evaniad^, including Evania and Fcenus, the joints of the antennae do The insects of this class have only two wings; not exceed fifteen in number. In others, the under and, in a few instances, none. Many species are wings are destitute of ribs. The Cynipsipa? have furnished with hdteres, and squamulse. The mouth the antennae broken, with from six to twelve joints, is formed for suction. For this purpose, the labrum as Cynips, Leucopses, Chalcis, and Cynipsillum. is more or less produced as a cover. The mandibulse The DiPLOLEPiDiE have the antennae straight, with are obliterated, or in the^ form of threads. The from eleven to sixteen joints, as Diplolepis and Eu- maxillae are produced into threads, and by their union in company with the mandibulae, form the syphon. The remaining families have the abdomen united The labium is either double or single, and forms a to the thorax by the whole of its transverse diame-

55 I N S E C T A. Insecta. destitute of joints, for the reception of the together with Asindulum, Ceroplatus, Mycetophila, Insecta. sheath, s)rphon. In some cases, there are two maxillary and and Rhyphus, which are furnished with ocelli. In the remaining genera of this class, the sheath two labial palpi. The larvae are destitute of feet, and pass into pupae obectce, or coarctatae. In this of the sucker is bivalve. Hyppoboscid./E have the numerous division, the labium, or sheath, is univalve, head distinctly divided from the thorax, as in Hipin others it is bivalve. We shall now advert to the first pobosca, Feronia, Ornithomyia, Craterina, Oxypterum, and Melophagus. In the genus Nycteribia, of these. Among those with a univalvular sheath to the pro- the head is united with the thorax. boscis, there are some in which this sucking organ CLASS XI. is entirely withdrawn, when not in use. Some of these have the sucker consisting of only the proAPTERA. duced maxillae. The Muscad.® have the eyes sessile, Into this class we have placed tribes of insects, as Musca, Tephritis, Myoda, Macrocera, Scenopinus. The Achiasidve have the eyes pedunculated, as which differ greatly from each other in the organs of Achias, Diopsis. The genus Oestrus, or Gad-fly, digestion; but which do not agree with any of the agrees with the muscadae in habit, but the parts of preceding classes. They possess one common chathe mouth are imperfect. Others have the sucker racter in wanting wings, in all the stages of their exof four filaments, formed from the mandibulae and istence. They may be divided into three orders, maxillae. In the Syrphad;e, the front is produced which by some are elevated to a primary rank. I. Aptera Suctoria.—The head, thorax, and like a beak, as Syrphus, Psarus, Chrysotoxum, Cerea, and Rhingia. In the Aphritad^:, the front is abbre- abdomen intimately united. The mouth consists of viated, as Aphritis and Milesia. In the remaining two simple processes, the lowest of which is longest, genera of this group, the last joint of the antennae is and receives the superior one in a cavity in its upper not simple, as in the preceding families, but annu- side. On each side is a process of four joints colated, and destitute of the lateral hair which they vering the others. These unite to form a proboscis, possess. These are termed Stratiomyd^e, and in- which rests upon the sternum. Are the simple proclude the genera Stratiomys, Oxycera, and Nemote- cesses to be considered as the labrum and labium, and the articulated lateral ones as palpi, the mandibuJus. In the remaining families, with a univalvular lae and maxillae being absent. The antennae consist sheath, the proboscis is always more or less protube- of four joints. This order contains at present only rant. Among these, there are some which resemble one genus, Pulex or Flea. There are several spethe preceding families, in having only three joints cies. The P. irritans is every where common, and in the antennae. The CoNOPSiniE have the sheath the P. fasciatus of Bose may be met with on moles bent, and the sucker, with two filaments, as Conops, and mice. II. Aptera Thysanura.—The head in this and Zodion, Homoxis, Bucentes, and Myopa. The Bombylid^e have the sucker composed of from four the following order is obviously separated from the to six filaments, and the sheath is destitute of large thorax by a contraction or neck. The last segment lips, as Bombylus, Ploas, Mithrax, Nemestrina, Pa- of the body is furnished with long filaments. In the nops, Cyrtus, Acrocera, Astomella; together with Lepismad-E the setae of the tail are continually exEmpis, Asilus, and Dioctria. The TABANiPiE have tended in the direction of the body, as Lepisma and the sheath furnished with large lips, and the third Forbicina. In the Poduradje, the setae, when at joint of the antennae distinctly annulated; as in Ta- rest, are folded under the body, as Podura and banus, Pangonia, and Caenomya; together with Pa- Smynthurus. III. Aptera Parasita.—The tail in this order chystoma, Rhagis, Dolechopus, and Mydas. Others have six joints or more in the antennae. Among is simple, or destitute of the filaments which distinthese the Bibionidas have moniliform or perfoliated guish the preceding. The NIrmidje, including nujoints, about the length of the head, as Bibio, Scat- merous species office which infest birds, and included hopsis, and Simulium. The Tipulad.e have fili- in the genera Ricinus and Pediculus of authors, have form or setaceous tentacula, as Tipula, Cetenophora, the mouth furnished with two teeth. The PedicuTrichocera, Psychoda, Tanypus, Limonia, Hexato- lide have a tubular proboscis, and include the gema, and Culix, all of which are destitute of ocelli; nera Pediculus, Phthirius, and Haematopinus. (q.Q.) description of the plate. 1. A, The stag-beetle (Lucanus) seen on the back. (Class Coleoptera.) B, The under side, exhibiting the position of the legs, and on one side the pits for the reception of the coxae. C, The parts of the mouth displayed ; a, the labrum, with its broad nasus; b, the mandibulae ; c, the maxillae, with their jointed palpi; d, the bifid labium, with the two palpi and broad mentum. 2. The parts of the mouth of Cimex nigricornis. (Class Hemiptera.) a, The articulated labium, with the edges at each side, and the first joint of each of

the antennae. This is the sheath for the other organs, and exhibits the groove on its oral surface ; b, the sucker viewed from above, covered at the base for one-third of its length, with the subulated labrum, and exhibiting, at the extremity, the straight united tip of the maxillae, and the recurved ends of the mandibulae ; c, is a view of the same parts separated, with the labrum removed, to exhibit the expanded roots of the mandibulae and maxillae, the small opening of the pharynx, and the pointed lingua before it and between the maxillae.

56 I N S Insecta 3. Exhibits the parts of the mouth of the Nepa I! Interest. (Hepa neptunia, Savigny Memoires, I. PI. IV. fig. 3. Class Hemiptera), the labrum and palate being removed. The mandibulae appear at the sides, their summits with reflected spiculse, and their roots near the pharynx flask-shaped. The tongue is trifid at the apex, underneath which the maxillae arise and exceed the mandibulae. The labium exhibits the groove for the reception of the other parts, and the oval raised marks near its extremity are the vestiges of palpi. 4. Parts of the mouth of Papilio machaon. (Class Lepidoptera.) a, The head viewed in front, exhibiting the round eyes, one turn of the spiral proboscis, with the pilose labial palpi on each side ; b, the tubular spiral maxillae (which by their union form the proboscis), with the vestiges of palpi at their base. The circular apertures on each side, at the bottom

I N T of the figure, indicate the insertion of the labial Insecta palpi; c, the cleft labium and the two palpi, the left . II one deprived of its scales ; d, the minute labrum, with Interest■ the mandibulae on each side of it ciliated on their internal edge. 5. Parts of the mouth of the Lyndia cannurum of Savigny. (Class Lepidoptera.) a, The eyes, scaly spiral proboscis, and the four palpi; b, one of the maxillae with its palpus; c, the labium and palpus ; d, the labrum and mandibulae. 6. The parts of the mouth of Tabanus italicus. (Class Diptera.) a, The mouth opened, or labrum and the mandibulae aad lingua separated, to exhibit the pharynx; b, one of the mandibulae viewed laterally ; c, one of the maxillae with the articulated palpus, the last joint of which is greatly enlarged; d, the labium with its fleshy lips. (q.q.)

I N TE REST Kate of In- s the sum which the borrower of a capital obliges terest is not regulated by himself to pay to the lender for its use. * the supply It was formerly universally believed that, in the of money, event of all legislative enactments, fixing and regubut by the lating the rate of interest, being repealed, its inrelation between the crease or diminution would depend wholly on the supply of comparative scarcity or abundance of money, or, in real dispos- other words, that it would rise as money became able capital, scarce, and fall as it became more plentiful. Mr and the power of Hume was the first to point out the fallacy of this advantage- opinion (Essay on Interest), and to show that the ously em- rate of interest is not determined by the amount of ploying it. the currency, but by the average rate of profit derived from the employment of capital. No doubt it most frequently happens that, when a loan is made, it is made in the currency of the country; this, however, is really of no consequence. There is obviously no difference between one individual furnishing another with 100 bushels of corn to be repaid at the expiry of a twelvemonth by the delivery of 104 or 105 bushels, or with as much money at 4 or 5 per cent, as would have purchased the corn. Besides, it is easy to perceive that the same identical sum of money might serve to negotiate an infinity of loans. Suppose A lends to X L. 1000, which X immediately pays away to B for commodities of equal value; but B has no use for the money, and he, therefore, lends it to Y, who pays it away for commodities to C, who again lends it to Z, and so on; it is plain the borrowers, X, Y, Z, have really received a loan of commodities, or capital, from the lenders. A, B, C, worth three times (and it might have been worth three hundred or three thousand times) as much as the money employed in settling the transactions. According as the supply of currency, compared with the business it has to perform, is greater or less, we

are obliged to give a greater or lesser number of guineas or livres, pound notes, or assignats, for the commodities w'e wish to obtain. It is plainly, however, by the advantage or profit we expect to derive from the acquisition of the commodities which constitute capital, and not from the accidental, and, in this respect, unimportant circumstance of a larger or smaller number of pieces of gold or silver, or of bits of engraved paper being given for them, that the rate of interest, or the compensation given to the lender for the use of his stock, must be determined. It may perhaps be supposed, that when the quantity of metallic money is increased, goldsmiths, jewellers, &c. obtain the raw material for carrying on their business with greater facility ; but this is not always the case, and, though it were, it would not affect the rate of interest. No coins are ever sent to the melting pot unless when the currency is either degraded or depreciated,—that is, unless it be deficient in weight, or relatively redundant in quantity. And it is clear that the inducement to promise a high or low rate of interest for loans of metallic money, which it was intended to work up into some species of manufactured goods, would depend not on the supply of such money, but on the profit to be derived from the operation,—a circumstance totally unconnected with the scarcity or abundance of coin. It appears, therefore, that the rate of interest, at any given period, depends exclusively on the supply of real disposable capital, such as land, machinery, raw and manufactured products, &c. compared with the power of profitably employing it. An increase of metallic money adds only very inconsiderably, and an increase of paper money adds nothing whatever to the real capital of the country, or to the

* Interet: loyer d un capital prete ; ou bien, en termes plus exacts, achat des servicesproductifs que peurendre un capital Say, Tome II. p. 480, Ed. 4me. 10

IN SEC TA

PLATE LXXXY.

' 57 I N T E RES T. Interest- material of which all loans are really composed. If tend to elevate or depress the rate of profit. What- Interest, an increase of paper money was equivalent to an in- ever diversity of opinion may be entertained recrease of capital, bank notes could not be too much specting them, it is abundantly evident that the rate multiplied, and France would have been about of interest afforded for the use of borrowed capital twenty times as rich at the era of the assignats as at must be proportionable to the profits which might this moment! It is not denied that considerable mis- be derived from its employment. In the United chief and derangement must always be experienced States, the market rate of interest varies from 10 to in a highly manufacturing and commercial country 14 per cent.; and in Holland, previously to the inlike Great Britain, when any sudden check is given vasion of the French in 1794, it did not exceed 2 or to the facility with which discounts are generally ob- 3 per cent. The immense extent of fertile and untained, or when the currency is suddenly contracted. cultivated land in America, the lowness of taxation^ But ihe'frottement and inconvenience occasioned by and the absence of all restrictive regulations, natu•a contraction of the currency could only be tem- rally occasion high profits, and consequently high porary. It is impossible it could have any lasting interest; while the sterility and limited extent of effect on the industry of the country. We should the soil of Holland, the excessive load of taxes, laid still possess the same amount of real capital; and as equally on necessaries and luxuries, and the injudineither its productive power, nor the liberty to cious restraints imposed on various branches of comtransfer it from one individual to another, would be merce, by rendering it impossible to derive large reat all impaired, the real revenue of the state would turns from capital, proportionably sink the rate of continue as great as ever, and the same, or a greater interest. Had the soil of Holland been as fertile, amount of stock might be disposed of by way of loan. and taxation as light as in the United States, profits Money prices would certainly fall proportionably to and interest would, notwithstanding the abundant the reduction of the currency ; or, which is the same supply of capital, have been equally high in the one thing, the value of commodities would henceforth Republic as in the other. It is not by the absolute have to be ascertained by comparing them with a amount of the stock of a country, but by the compasmaller number of bits of gold or paper. But, in rative facilities for its advantageous employment, every other respect, the business of society would that the compensation or interest which a borrower Continue exactly on its former footing; and with- can afford for its use must always be regulated. Preout some change in the rate of profit, on which fluc- vious to the termination of the late war, the market tuations in the value of money have almost no effect, rate of interest in this country, for sums which could not be immediately demanded, fluctuated from 5 to the rate of interest would continue invariable. Mr Ricardo has set this principle in a clear and 12 per cent. It has since fallen to 4 or 5 per cent. ; striking point of view. “ The rate of interest,” he a decline which has not, certainly, been occasioned observes, in answer to those who had contended that it by any sudden increase of capital, but by the extrawould be increased by a diminution of the discounts ordinary depression of commerce, and the conseof the Bank of England, ff is not regulated by the quent impossibility of investing stock so as to yield rate at which the Bank will lend, whether it be 5, as large a profit as it did during the period when we 4, or 3 per cent,, but by the rate of profit which can engrossed almost the whole trade of the world. be made by the employment of capital, and which Besides, such variations as are proportionable to Rate of fnis totally independent of the quantity and of the variations in the general and average rate of profit,terest var^es value of money. Whether a bank lend one million, and which equally affect all loans, the rate of interten millions, or a hundred millions, they would not est must vary according to the degree of security af- afforded for permanently alter the market rate of interest; they forded for the repayment of the principal, and the du- the repaywould alter only the value of the money which they ration of the loan. No capitalist would lend on the ment |jf the thus issued. In one case, ten or twenty times more personal security of a gunpowder manufacturer, and aniTthTda money might be requested to carry on the same on mortgage over a valuable estate, at the same rate ration of tlie business, than what might be required in the other. of interest. The extraordinary hazard of the gun- loan, The applications to the Bank for money, then, de- powder trade exposes the stock invested in it to an pend on the comparison between the rate of pro- extreme degree of risk. It may be dissipated in an fits that may be made by the employment of it, instant; and the power of the borrower to refund the and the rate at which they are willing to lend capital he had borrowed annihilated for ever. A it. If they charge less than the market rate of lender of money on mortgage is almost entirely reinterest, there is no amount of money which they lieved from such contingencies. The owner of an might not lend; if they charge more than that estate on which a loan is secured may become bankrate, none but spendthrifts and prodigals would rupt, but the estate itself will remain, and may be eibe found to borrow of them. We accordingly ther sold or taken possession of by the lender. It is find, that when the market rate of interest ex- plain, therefore, that there must be a very great difceeds the rate of 5 per cent, at which the bank ference in the rate of interest paid by those whose seuniformly lend, the discount office is besieged with curity for the repayment of the principal is so exapplicants for money; and, on the contrary, when ceedingly different. The gunpowder manufacturthe market rate is even temporarily under 5 per er, besides paying a rate, or per centage, equivacent., the clerks of that office have no employment.” lent to the common and average rate of interest derived from the most secure investments, would {Principles of Political Economy, 1st edit. p. 511.) It is foreign to the object of this article to enter have to pay an additional rate, which, although it into any detailed examination of the causes which might not be designated by that name, would really VOL. v. PART i. H

INTEREST. 58 Interest, constitute a premium of insurance proportioned to the over our capital. No merchant would ever consent to v Interest, greater risk to which the lender was exposed of losing lend his stock on mortgage. If he did, he would no his principal. The preferable security offered by the longer be able to carry on his business with advanlandholder would relieve him from the necessity of tage. He would be deprived of all power of spepaying any considerable premium, or excess of inte- culating; and, although this might, in many inrest, on account of risk; and, of course, he would be stances, be for his advantage, yet the flattering able to borrow at so much less than tfie manufacturer. opinion winch every one entertains of his own abiWe should mistake, however, if we supposed that the lities and good fortune, would but seldom allow latter was thus placed in a comparatively disadvanta- him to doubt of its being a very material disadvangeous situation. He would be completely indemni- tage. It is by this principle that we are able to acfied for the greater risk to which his stock was ex- count for the comparatively low rate of interest at posed, and for the higher rate of interest which he which banking companies, who pay the sums dewas, in consequence, obliged to pay, by the greater posited with them on demand, and governments, gross profits he would derive from his business. The whose circumstances are perfectly desperate, are able constantly operating principle of competition will not to borrow. A stockholder’s mortgage,—his claim permit, taking every thing into account, a greater on the revenue of the country,—can be immediately nett profit to be permanently derived from one de- converted into cash at the current prices. And, partment of industry than from another. But those however much the majority of the public creditors who invest their stock in employments of more than may be impressed with a conviction of the inability ordinary hazard, must be able to dispose of their pro- of the state to discharge all the claims upon it, every duce at such a price as will yield them the common particular individual, confident in his own good forand average rate of profit, besides affording a surpl us tune, foresight, and acuteness, flatters himself with adequate to insure their stock against the extra risk the idea that he, at least, will be able to predict the to which it is exposed. If this were not the case, no coming tempest, and that he will be able to sell out capitalist would place his property in a state of com- before a national bankruptcy. Instead, however, of leaving the rate of interest Interference parative danger, and no undertakings of a hazardous oi nature would be entered into. Wherever there is to be adjusted by the unfettered competition of the Goyemr l risk, that risk must be compensated. And it may, borrowers and lenders, on the principles we have ?^V ‘tjj e and very frequently does, happen that the manager thus briefly explained, the governments of most coun- rate 0f i„. of a hazardous branch of industry, paying from 10 to tries have interfered either to prohibit the taking of terest. Rea. 20 per cent, for borrowed capital, is realizing a larger interest altogether, or to fix certain rates which it sons which nett profit than the landlord who has purchased an was declared legal to exact, at the same time that any estate with money for which he only pays 3 or excess over these rates was declared to be usury, and interference, prohibited under the severest penalties. In the rude 4 per cent. * But, supposing the securities to be equal, capital and unenlightened ages in which these enactments lent for short periods, or in such a way that the had their origin, the precious metals, then the only lender may obtain possession of it cil pleasure, will species of money, were considered as uninfluenced always bring a lower rate of interest than capital by the same principles which regulate the value of lent for a considerable, or definite, period. No bor- other products. Being used both as standards whererower could afford to pay so high a rate of interest by to ascertain the comparative value of different for a capital of whose productive services he might commodities, and as the equivalents for which they be deprived in an instant, and which he could not, were most frequently exchanged, they acquired a therefore, venture to invest in any employment from factitious importance, not merely in the estimation which it might not be easily withdrawn, as for a capi- of the vulgar, but in that of persons of the greatest tal lent for a fixed period, especially if that period was discernment. The simple consideration that all buyof considerable length. But here, as in every other ing and selling is really nothing more than the barcase, the real interests of the borrower and lender co- tering of one commodity for another,—of a certain incide. The same circumstances which prevent a bor- quantity of corn or beef, for example, for a certain rower from giving as high a rate of interest for a loan quantity of gold or silver, and vice versa, was entirepayable on demand as if it were payable at a fixed and ly overlooked. The attention was gradually transdistant term, induces the lender to rest satisfied with a ferred from the money’s worth to the money itself; smaller compensation in the one case than in the other. and the wealth of states and of individuals came to be We wish to be able to exercise a complete command measured, not by the abundance of their disposable * This principle is never lost sight of in bargaining for loans. In Athens, the rate of interest was not regulated bv law ; and it is distinctly mentioned in ancient authors, that the average rate of interest paid by those who employed their stock in the shipping trade with the countries situated on the Euxme and x editerranean Seas, amounted, on account of the hazard of the voyage, to about 30 per cent., while bankers, agriculturists, and others, whose security was preferable, paid only about 12 per cent. Say, in noticing this striking fact, supposes that the 30 per cent, was charged by the voyage ; and that, as two voyages to the Crimea, or Sicily, might be made annually, maritime interest really amounted at Athens to 60 per cent. There does not, however, appear to be the least ground for this assertion. It is the average annual rate of interest that is always spoken of.—[Travels of Anacharsis, Vol. IV. p. .>68, Eng. trans. , T)e Paum, Recherches sur les Grecs, Tom. I. p. 287 j Say, Tom. II. p. 132.)

59 INTEREST. Interest, produce*—by the quantity or value of the commodi- duce him to make such an offer—what right has the Interest, ^"v^^ties with which they could afford to purchase the legislator to interfere* and to prohibit the lender precious metals*—but by the quantity of these metals from receiving* and the borrower from paying* more actually in their possession. Because it sometimes than 4 or 5 per cent. ? Such an interference is not happened that the holders of ordinary commodities only uncalled for and unnecessary, but it is* in the were unable easily to dispose of them at any price* highest degree* prejudicial. Restrictive laws* instead while money was always sure to find a ready and of reducing* have uniformly contributed to raise advantageous market* it was considered as something the rate of interest. Nor is this any thing but mysterious,—as a real marchandise par excellence. Avhat might have been foreseen and expected. It is We cannot* therefore, be surprised at the measures plain no law can be so framed as to prevent a borto which the erroneous opinions entertained respect- rower from offering a higher rate of interest than ing it necessarily led; or that efforts should have what is fixed by statute; and* if the lender had implibeen made to protect the interests of those who were cit confidence in the secresy and solvency of the unprovided with so powerful an instrument* from borrower* he might accommodate him with the sum becoming a prey to the encroachments of their more wanted* without requiring any additional interest or fortunate neighbours. Every individual was allowed premium of insurance, because of the danger of enterfreely to dispose of his corn, cattle* land, &c.; but ing into what the law declares to be an illegal transit was imagined there was something peculiar in action : but this must be a very rare case. Gratimoney, and that the desire to obtain it was so great, tude* and a sense of benefits received, are* unfortuthat* unless the lenders were restrained in their de- nately, when they come into contact with self-intermands* they would* by taking advantage of the ne- est* but slender securities for honourable conduct. cessities of the borrowers* infallibly ruin them* and Numberless unforeseen events occur to weaken and engross the whole property of the country. dissolve the best cemented friendships *• and a transAnother source of the prejudice against stipulating action of this kind would undoubtedly afford an adfor interest must be sought for in the dislike so uni- ditional source of jealousies and divisions. In such versally entertained in remote ages to accumulation. matters* indeed, men are more than usually sharpThere can be no accumulation without economy*— sighted* and are very little disposed to trust to moral without a saving of income*—and this was then not guarantees for the security of their property. But only considered as indicative of a sordid and avarici- neither the threatenings of the law, nor the powerous disposition* but as being positively hurtful. Be- ful inducement which it holds out to dishonest debtors fore the nature and functions of capital were proper- to break their engagements* and treacherously to ly understood* it was believed it could not be increas- recede from the stipulations to which they had ed otherwise than by injuriously abstracting a portion agreed* have been able to prevent* or even greatly of the national revenue* and that any advantage it to lessen* what are termed usurious bargains. Their might give to the proprietor* must have been obtain- only effect has been* to oblige the lender to demand, ed at the public expence. It did not occur to our and the borrower to bind himself to pay* a higher ancestors, that an individual who, by his economy* rate of interest than would otherwise have been rehas accumulated stock* has really added to the quired. A bargain for more than the statute rate of wealth of the state* without diminishing that of interest being declared illegal, the lender is thus exothers; nor were they aware that this stock* when posed to an additional risk. But no person will graafterwards expended* as is almost always the case* tuitously place his fortune in a situation of comparain the support of productive industry* would afford tive hazard: and* therefore* the sum necessary to the means of producing an increased income. But* cover this risk, must be proportioned to the greater reckoning as they did* the savings of individuals as or less anxiety on the part of government to preso much withdrawn from the public income* it was vent and punish such bargains; or, in other words, natural enough that they should endeavour to limit the rate of interest is invariably increased acthe advantage to be derived from their employment. cording as the laws intended to reduce it become Much, also* of the prejudice against bargaining more severe* and diminished according as they are for interest* so prevalent in the middle ages, may be relaxed! traced to the authority of some texts of scripture* Thus a capitalist might be inclined to lend a sum which were understood entirely to prohibit its ex- at 6 or 7 ver cent.; but, as the law declares that any action. It has, however* been shown* that these individual who shall stipulate for more than 5 per texts will not really bear this interpretation ; but* cent, shall* if detected* forfeit three times the princisupposing they had* nothing, it is plain* could be pal, it is clear* provided there was no method of demore absurd than to consider the municipal regula- feating this statute* that there must be an end of all tions of a people placed in such peculiar circum- borrowing, except when the market rate of interest stances as the Jews* as general and fixed principles* was below the statutory rate. Whenever it was applicable in all ages and countries, above that rate* no person would be able to obtain a i whatever may have been the causes of the single farthing by way of loan. There could* then, e orts 80 strain the rate ^ generally made to regulate and limit the be no transference of capital. It would continue ue of in°f interest, it is certain that* far from succeeding locked up in the same hands ; and the national pro■rest, in- in their object, they have had a precisely opposite sperity and welfare would* in consequence* suffer seuon °f-re* effect. Should a borrower find it for his advantage verely. Luckily, however* the mutual interest and wtributTd6 °ffer °r 8 per cent, for a loan—and* unless ingenuity of borrowers and lenders have always ' raise it. it were for his advantage, nothing could possibly in- proved an overmatch for the enactments of the law.

INTEREST. 60 Interest. These have done nothing but fetter the transfer- la defense : le preteur s’indemnise du peril de la Interest, -V—-^ ence of stock, and force the borrowers to pay a contravention.” {Esprit des Loix,Li\. XXL chap. 1.9-) During the middle ages, the average rate of profit In the mid. higher rate of interest for it. What might have been tlle a es: 8 borrowed at 6 per cent-, had there been no hazard could not be much higher than at present: “ But from anti-usurious statutes, is, on account of that ha- the clamour and persecution raised against those who zard, raised to perhaps 8 or 10 per cent. ; and, what took interest for the use of money was so violent, is still worse, a contempt for the institutions of socie- that they were obliged to charge it much higher than ty, and a habit of carrying on business in a secret the natural price, which, if it had been let alone, and underhand manner, is generated. The odium would have found its level, in order to compensate which attaches to a positively pernicious regulation for the opprobrium, and frequently the plunder, weakens the respect which would otherwise be felt which they suffered; and hence the usual rate of infor those which are acknowledged to be advantage- terest was what we should now call most exorbitant ous • and that spirit of frankness, openness, and sin- and scandalous usury.” (Macpherson’s History of cerity, which, wherever it predominates, is so highly Commerce, Vol. I. p. 400.) The extraordinary risks valuable, is cramped in its developement, or altoge- to which lenders were exposed rendered the premither supplanted, by duplicity, extortion, and cunning. um of insurance on all sorts of capital excessively Effect of the These conclusions do not rest on theory only, but high; for, of the 50, and even 100 per cent., which Usury Laws are supported by a constant and uniform experience, borrowers then frequently engaged to pay as interin Rome: ^ Rome, during the period of the Republic, the est, not more than 8 or 10 per cent, can properly be ordinary rate of interest was excessively high. The said to have been given for the productive services debtors, or plebeians, were every now and then of capital. The rest must be considered as a bonus, threatening to deprive their creditors, who were ge- to compensate the lender for the hazard he encounnerally of the patrician order, not only of the interest tered of losing the principal itself. * In France the rate of interest was fixed at 5 per In France: of their capital, but of the principal itself. Repeated instances occurred to show that these were not cent, so early as 1665; and this, a few short intervals mere empty threats; and the patricians were, there- only excepted, continued to be the legal rate until fore, obliged to indemnify themselves, by means of the Revolution. Laverdy, in 1766, reduced it from a corresponding premium, for the risks to which they 5 to 4 per cent. Instead, however, of the market were exposed. “ Des continuels changements,” says rate being proportionably reduced, it was raised Montesquieu, “ soit par des loix, soit par des ple- from 5 to 6 per cent. Previously to the promulgabiscites, naturaliserent a Rome Fusure; car les cre- tion of the edict loans might have been obtained on anciers, voyant le peuple leur debiteur, leur legisla- good security at 5 per cent.; but an additional per teur, et leur juge, n’eurent plus de confiance dans cent, was now required to cover the risk of illegaliles contrats. Le peuple, comme un debiteur de- ty. This caused the speedy abandonment of the credite, ne tentoit a lui preter que par des gros measure. (Storch, Trade d’Economic Politique, jjrqfits; d’autant plus que, si les loix ne venoient Tome III. p. 187-) The same thing happened in Livonia in 1786, in Livonis. que de terns en terns, les plaintes du peuple etoient contumelies, et intimidoient toujours les creanciers. when the Empress Catherine reduced the legal rate Cela fit que tons les moyens honnetes de preter of interest from 6 per cent, to 5. Hitherto, says et d’emprunter furent abolis a Rome, et qu’une usure Storch (in loco citato), those who had good security qffreuse, toujours joudroyee, et toujours renaissante, s y to offer, were able to borrow at 6 per cent.; but etablit. Le mal venoient de ce que les choses n’a- henceforth they had to pay 7 per cent, or upwards. voient pas ete menages. Les loix extremes dans le And such will be found to have been invariably the bien font naitre le mal extreme : il fallut payer pour case wherever governments have interfered to rele pret de Vargent, et pour le danger des peines de la duce the statutory below the market rate of interest. From the earliest period of the history of Eng- History of loi. {Esprit des Loix, Liv. XXII. chap. 21.) land down to the reign of Henry VIII., the taking the IawskIn the East; In Mahometan countries, notwithstanding tlw positive prohibition in the Coran, the ordinary rate of of interest' was absolutely forbidden to all persons interest is at least ten or twenty times as high as its within the realm except Jews and foreigners; who, terest in ordinary rate in Europe. Cl L’usure augmente dans nevertheless, were frequently plundered for the England, les pays Mahometans a proportion de la sever it e de sake of enriching the Crown, under the miserable

* It is impossible to form any very accurate estimate of the rate of profit in the middle ages, yet several striking facts may be adduced in support of the opinion advanced in the text. At Verona, in 1228, the interest of money was fixed by law at 12£ per cent. Towards the end of the fourteenth century, the Republic of Genoa paid only from 7 to 10 per cent, to her creditors ; and the average discount on good bills at Barcelona, in 1435, is stated to have been about 10 per cent. But while the rate of interest m Ita y anc atalonia, where a considerable degree of freedom was allowed to the parties concerned m bargaining tor a oan, was thus comparatively moderate, it was, in despite of its total prohibition, incomparably higher in France and England. Matthew Paris mentions, that, in the reign of Henry III., the debtor paid 10 per cent. every two months; and this, though absolutely impossible as a general practice, may not have been very far from the average interest charged on tire few loans that were then contracted lor. (Hallam s History of the Middle Ages, Vol. III. p. 402.)

§1 INTEREST. Interest, pretext of punishing them for what were then called thence to eight, and thence to six in the hundred. Interest, their “ hellish extortions.” The disorders occasion- hath from time to time, by experience, been found ed by this ruinous interference on the part of Go- very beneficial to the advancement of trade and the vernment at length became so obvious, that, not- improvement of lands; it is become absolutely newithstanding the powerful prejudices to the contra- cessary to reduce the high rate of interest of 6 per ry, a statute was passed in 1546* (87th Hen. VIII. cent, to a nearer proportion to the interest allowed cap. 7.), legalizing the taking of interest to the ex- for money in foreign states.” It was for these reatent of 10 per cent, per annum ; and this, because, sons enacted, that all bargains or contracts, stipulatas is recited in the words of the act, the statutes ing for a higher rate of interest than 5 per cent. “ prohibiting interest altogether have so little force, should be utterly void. And “ that all persons who that little or no punishment hath ensued to the offend- should after that time receive, by means of any corers.” In the reign of Edward VI. the horror against rupt bargain, loan, exchange, chevizance, or interest taking interest seems to have revived in full force ; of any wares, merchandise, or other thing whatever, for, in 1552, the taking of any interest was again pro- or by any deceitful way or means, or by any covin, hibited “ as a vice most odious and detestable,” and engine, or deceitful conveyance for the forbearing or “ contrary to the word of God.” But, in spite of this giving day of payment, for one whole year for their tremendous denunciation, the ordinary rate of inte- money or other thing, above the sum of L. 5 for rest, instead of being reduced, immediately rose to L. 100 for a year, should forfeit, for every such of14 per cent.; and continued at this rate, until, in fence, the triple value of the monies or other things 1571, an act was passed (13th Eliz. cap. 8), repeal- so lent, bargained,” &c. In Scotland, previously to the Reformation, noIatin Laws reguing the act of Edward VI., and reviving the act of g the Henry VIII., allowing 10 per cent, interest. In the interest could be legally exacted for money. But jnIn* preamble to this act, it is stated, “ that the prohi- this great event, by weakening the force of those prejudices, which had chiefly dictated the scotland • biting act of King Edward VI. had not done so religious T much good as was hoped for; but that rather the law s prohibiting interest, occasioned the adoption of vice of usury hath much more exceedingly abounded, sounder opinions on the subject, and led to the ento the utter undoing of many gentlemen, merchants, actment of the statute of 1587 (11th Parlt. Jac. VI. occupiers, and others, and to the importable hurt cap. 52), which legalized the taking of interest to of the commonwealth.” This salutary statute was the extent of ten per cent. In 1633 the legal rate opposed, even by those who, it might have been was reduced to eight per cent., and, in l66l, to six expected, would have been among the first to eman- per cent. The statute of Queen Anne, reducing the cipate themselves from the prejudices of the age, rate of interest to 5 per cent., extended to both kingwith all the violence of ignorant superstition. Dr doms. The statutes prohibiting the taking of interest in In Ireland. John Wilson, a man famous in his day, and celebrated for'the extent and solidity of his learning, Ireland were not repealed until 1635, when, by the stated,, in his place in the House of Commons, statute 10th Car. I. cap. 22, liberty was given to that c< it was not the amount of the interest taken stipulate for interest to the extent of ten per cent. that constituted the crime ; but that all lending for In 1704 this rate was reduced to eight per cent. ; in any gain, be it ever so little, was wickedness before 1722 it was reduced to seven per cent.; and, in 1732, God and man, and a damnable deed in itself, and it was further reduced to six per cent., at which it that there was no mean in this Vice any more than has since continued fixed. in murder or theft!” In order to quiet the conIt has been observed by Dr Smith, that the dif- Comparison sciences of the Bench of Bishops, a clause was ac- ferent statutory regulations, reducing the rate of in-beiwcenrt!lee tually inserted, declaring all usury to have been for- terest in England, were made with great propriety. s^ bidden by the law of God, and to be, in its nature, Instead of preceding, they followed the fall which wastutory rate* Interest, sin, and detestable ! When first enacted, this statute gradually taking place in the market rate of inte-of froin was limited to a period of five years; but, “ foras- rest; and, therefore, did not contribute, as they10 G'-t much as it was by proof and experience found to be otherwise must have done, to raise the rate which very necessary and profitable for the commonwealth they were intended to reduce. Sir Josiah Child, of this realm,” it was, in the same reign, made perpe- whose celebrated Treatise, recommending a reduction of interest to four per cent, was published about tual. (39th Eliz. cap. 18.) In the 21st of James I. the legal rate of interest 1670, states positively, that the goldsmiths in Lonwas reduced to 8 per cent., by an act to continue for don, who then acted as bankers, could obtain as seven years only, but which was made perpetual in much money as they pleased, upon their servants’ the succeeding reign. (3d Car. I. cap. 4-) During notes only, at 4E per cent. The supposed insecurithe commonwealth, the legal rate of interest was re- ty of the revolutionary establishment, and the novelduced to ft.per cent.; a reduction which was after- ty of the practice of funding, occasioned the payment wards confirmed by the act 12th Car. II. And, of a high rate of interest for a considerable portion finally, in the reign of Queen Anne, a statute (12th of the sums borrowed by the public in the reigns of Anne, cap. 16) was framed, reducing the rate of in- William III. and Anne; but private persons, of undoubted credit, could then borrow at less than 5 per terest to 5 per cent., at which it now stands. In the preamble to this statute, it is stated, that, cent. During the reign of George II. the market rate “ whereas the reducing of interest to ten, and from of interest fluctuated from 3 to 4 and 4^ per cent. * On the 18th December 1752, the three per cents, brought the highest price they have hitherto reached.

INTEREST. 62 Interest. Dr Smith mentions^ that the increased means of pro- but of all classes of borrowers. The extent of the Interest, fitably investing capital acquired during the war loans, the high rate of interest given by the state, which terminated in 1763, raised the market rate the facility of selling out of the funds, the regulaof interest, subsequently to the peace of Paris, to a rity with which the dividends were paid, and the level with the statutory rate, or perhaps higher. temptations arising from the fluctuations in the price But this rise was only temporary, and it was not of funded property, diverted so large a proportion until the late war that any very material or general of the floating capital of the country into the coffers inconvenience was found to result from the limita- of the Treasury, as to render it next to impossible for a private individual to borrow at the legal rate tion of the rate of interest to 5 per pent. Expedients It is necessary, however, to observe, that this re- of interest, except from the trustees of public comfer defeating mark applies exclusively to the loans negotiated by panies, or through the influence of circumstances of the laws li- individuals who could offer unexceptionable securi- a very peculiar nature. The proprietors of unencumbered freehold estates, of which they had the rateof In'5- ty 1 f>or; ever since ^ Passing of act 1714, perterest. sons engaged in employments of more than ordinary absolute disposal, were almost universally obliged to hazard, whose character for prudence and punctual- resort to those destructive expedients which had fority did not stand high, or who could only offer infe- merly been the resource only of spendthrifts, and rior security, were unable to borrow at 5 per ce?ii., persons in the most desperate circumstances. Anand have in consequence been compelled to resort to nuities were not unfrequently granted for the term a variety of schemes for defeating and evading the of several lives, at the rate of 12, 14, 15, and even enactments in the statute. The most common de- 20 per Cent., exclusive of the premium of insurance vice was the sale of an annuity. Thus, supposing on the lives of the persons named in the grant of the an individual whose personal credit was not good, annuities. Mr Onslow, in his speech on the usury and who had only the liferent of an estate to give in laws, 23d May 1816, mentions that he knew the case security, wanted to borrow any given sum, he sold of a gentleman possessed of a very large estate in an annuity to the lender sufficient to pay the interest fee-simple, who had been compelled to grant an anstipulated for, which, because of the risks and odium nuity for four lives (and the survivor of them), attending such transactions, was always higher than named by the grantee for eight years’ purchase ! The Report of the Committee on the Usury Lam, House of the market rate, and also to pay the premium nemmoris cessary to insure payment of the principal on the laid before the House of Commons in 1818, contains ^° death of the borrower. It is curious to observe, much valuable evidence, establishing the impolicy th/usury that although the sale of an irredeemable life annui- and the pernicious effects of these laws, in the clear- Laws, ty, at a rate exceeding legal interest, was not reckon- est manner. Mr Sugden, a gentleman very extened fraudulent or usurious; yet so late as 1743, sively concerned in the management of landed proLord Hardwicke held, that in their less exception- perty, stated, that when the market rate of interest able form, or when they were redeemable, annuities rose above the legal rate, the landed proprietor was could only be looked upon as an evasion of the sta- compelled to resort to some shift to evade the usury tute of usury, and a loan of money. * But the ex- laws. For this purpose, Mr Sugden informed the treme inexpediency of this distinction soon became Committee he had “ known annuities granted for obvious, and the law on this subject is now entirely three lives at 10 per cent, upon fee-simple estates, changed. The greater extension of the traffic in an- unencumbered, and of great annual value, in a reginuities, and the advantage of giving as much publi- ster county. He had also known annuities granted city as possible to such transactions, led to various for four lives, and more would have been added but Parliamentary inquiries and regulations respecting for the danger of equity setting aside the transaction them in the early part of the reign of his late Majes- on account of the inadequacy of the consideration.— ty. The consequence has been, that irredeemable Latterly many annuities were granted for a term of annuities are now nearly unknown, and that the years certain, not depending upon lives.” On being sale of a redeemable annuity cannot be impeached, asked whether, if there were no laws limiting the rate although it should appear on the face of the deeds of interest, better terms could or could not have that the lender had secured the principal by effecting been obtained, Mr Sugden answered, “ I am dean assurance of the borrower’s life.—{Pamphleteer, cidedly of opinion that better terms could have been obtained, for there is a stigma which attaches to men Vol. VIII. p. 280.) t During the greater part of the late war, however, who lend money upon annuities, that drives all rethe usury laws operated not to the prejudice of one. spectable men out of the market. Some leading

namely, l()6f per cent. On the 20th September 1797, the day on which the failure of Lord Malmsbury’s attempt to negotiate with the French Republic transpired, consols fell to 47-§, being the lowest price at which they have ever been sold. * Considerations on the Rate of Interest, by E. B. Sugden, Esq. Pamphleteer, Vol. VIII. p. 278. t By the act 53d Geo. III. cap. 141, it is enacted, “ That a memorial setting forth the date of every deed, bond, instrument, or other assurance, whereby an annuity or rent-charge shall be granted tor one or more life or lives, or for a certain number of years, the names of all the witnesses, and of all the parties thereto, the sum given for the security, and the amount of the annuity itself, shall be registered in the Court of Chancery.” This act only applies to England and Wales.

Interest.

INTEREST. 63 did latterly embark in such transactions, but I row, as he knows the respectable money lender will Interest, never knew a man of reputation in my own profes- not break the laws of his country. The disreputable sion lend money in such a manner, although we have money lender knows that he has the ordinary risk of the best means of ascertaining the safest" securities, his debtor to incur in lending his money, and he has and of obtaining the best terms. In all loans, two further to encounter the penalty of the law, for both solicitors are invariably concerned, one for the bor- of which risks the borrower must pay. If no usury rower and one for the lender ; and although the bor- laws existed, in common cases, and where a person rower always pays the expence of the securities, yet is respectable, he might obtain a loan from the rea regular professional bill is invariably made out; spectable money lender, who would then only have whereas, in the case of an annuity, although it is in to calculate his ordinary risk, and the compensation strictness a loan, only one solicitor is employed, and for the use of his money.” he never makes out a regular bill, but charges what In every part of the Appendix to the Report, we Resolutions is termed a limping sum, for all his expence and meet with equally conclusive evidence of the perni- of the Comtrouble in the transaction.”—And in another place cious effects of the laws restraining the rate of inteMr Sugden observes, “ The temptation on the part rest. And the committee admitted the full force of of a solicitor to lend money upon annuities is very this evidence, by agreeing to the following resolustrong, because, •without any check upon his charges, tions : 1st, “ That it is the opinion of this committee, he demands whatever sum he pleases, and he takes that the laws regulating or restraining the rate of incare that it is instantly paid ; for in no instance is the terest have been extensively evaded, and have failed borrower allowed to leave the room until he has paid of the effect of imposing a maximum on such the solicitors charge." “ Nothing,” Mr Sugden rate; and that, of late years, from the constant exjustly adds, “ short of a repeal of the usury laws, cess of the market rate of interest above the rate lican put a stop to the abuses which attend grants of mited by law, they have added to the expence inannuities ; they strongly encourage a spirit of gam- curred by borrowers on real security, and that such bling, for, as the repayment of the money lent can- borrowers have been compelled to resort to the mode not be enforced, and the annuity is granted upon a of granting annuities on lives; a mode which has contingency, the borrower too frequently neglects to been made a cover for obtaining a higher rate of inprovide for the payment of the loan, and trusts to terest than the rate limited by law, and has farther chance for the determination of the annuity.” subjected the borrowers to enormous charges, or “ The laws against usury,” says Mr Holland, forced them to make very disadvantageous sales of partner of the house of Baring, Brothers, and Com- their estates. 2 . i Descriptions of the tools, with instructions for using them, may be found in Moxon s work betore quoted, and in Nicholson’s Mechanical Exercises, Taylor, London, 1812.

JOINERY. Joinery, were joined together, so as to represent the form of 6. In the particular case we have drawn, none of Joinery, a solid body, a cube for example, and if this figure the projections represents the real length of the given were held between the sun and the surface of a plane line. To obtain this length, draw a'e parallel to CD, ^ deterboard, then the shadow of the figure upon the board and with the radius a'b' describe the arc b'e cutting would be its projection upon that plane. From this a'e in e ; draw de perpendicular to CD, cutting the Projected* simple experiment, it will appear, that the projec- line cb in d ; join ad, and it is the length of the given Line, tion of any line placed in the direction of the sun’s line. ^ rays will be a point; the projection of any line paThe real lengths of lines frequently are not given. Projection of rallel to the plane will be of the same length as the therefore another general method of finding themplanesline itself, and the projection of any line inclined to will be found useful, and which may be stated as folthe plane will be always shorter than that line. lows : the length of an inclined line projected upon 3. We have supposed the board to be placed at a plane is equal to the hypothenuse of a right-angled any angle with the direction of the rays of the sun ; tiiangle, of which one side is the projection upon the but, for our present purpose, it is sufficient to consi- plane, and the other side is the difference between der them to fall perpendicularly upon it; hence it is the perpendicular distances of the extremes of the obvious, that to project a straight line upon a plane, line from the plane. a perpendicular to the plane should be let fall from 7- In Fig. 2, a'b'cd represents the horizontal proeach end of the line, and the line joining the points jection, or plan, of a rectangular surface, and the where the perpendiculars meet the plane will be the elevation ab shows its inclination ; and its projection projection required. against another vertical plane, making any angle When a projection is made upon a horizontal plane, ECD with the former, or plane of elevation, is shown it is usually called Q'plan of the body. Wffien the pro- by a"b"c'd'. GC being perpendicular to EC, and jection is upon a vertical plane, it may be an eleva- AC perpendicular to CD, the heights may be transtion or a section of the body; it is a section when a ferred by means of arcs of circles described from C portion is supposed to be cut off; and the plane of as a centre. This is a better method than that by projection is usually parallel to the plane of sec- bisecting the angle given in fig. 1 ; but neither of tion. them so good, in practice, as setting of the heights 4. Bodies may be divided into three classes, ac- with the compasses, or with a lath. In our figures cording to the kinds of surfaces by which they are it is desirable to show the connection of correspondbounded. The first class, comprehending those ing parts as much as possible; therefore, the reader which are bounded by plane surfaces, such are cubes, will beat in mind that many of the operations we prisms, pyramids, and the like. The second class describe may be done with fewer lines when the opecontains those which are bounded in part by plane rator is fully master of his subject. surfaces, and the rest by curved surfaces, as cylin8. It may be further noticed in this place, that ders, cones, &c. Ihe third, including those which when a point is to be determined in one line, by the are bounded by curved surfaces only, as spheres, intersection of another, the lines should cross each spheroids, &c. other as nearly at right angles as possible; for, when The projections of the first class of bodies will the intersecting liqes cross very obliquely, a point consist of straight lines; those of the second class, cannot be determined with any tolerable degree of of curved as well as straight lines ; and those of the accurac}7. third class, of curved lines only. 9. A curved line can seldom be projected by any cProjection of Projection 5. Let ABCD, and CDEF, Fig. 1, Plate LXXXVI. Vrved o Lines. be two plane surfaces, connected by a joint at CD, so other means than by finding a number of points Line9 through which the projected line must be drawn, or ‘ that while the plane CDEF remains horizontal, the finding a series of tangents to the section. In giving plane ABCD may be placed perpendicular to it, and an example of the projection of a body bounded by thus represent a vertical plane. Then, if a line be a curved suiface, w’e shall select a case of frequent so placed in space, that ab is its projection on the occurrence in practice, referring to the Geometric vertical plane, and a’b' its projection on the horizon- Descriptive of Monge, for more general methods. tal plane, its projection on any other vertical plane, Let ABC be part of the plan of the base of a solid, HGEC, may be determined. This is easily,effected, fig. 3, and FED its end elevation ; the upper side of for we have seen, that if a perpendicular be drawn the solid being bounded by the curved surface FD. to the plane from each end of the given line, they This solid is supposed to be cut at AB by a plane will give the positions of the ends of the line in the perpendicular to the base, and our intention is to projection (Art. 3). Now, the same thing will be show the form of the section. done, b}' drawing a'a" and b'b" perpendicular to EC, EH parallel to BA, and GIHE will repreard setting off the points a” and b" at the same sentDraw the plane upon which the section is to be proheight above EC respectively, as a and b are above jected. Set off any convenient number of points, CD, then the line a''b" is the projection required. 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. in the given curve FD, from each of The heights may be transferred from one vertical these points draw a line perpendicular to ED, to plane to another, when they are both supposed to meet BA ; and from the points in BA, thus deterbe laid flat, by drawing the line IC, so as to bisect mined, erect perpendiculars, which will cut HE at the angle ECD, and if cb be parallel to CD, meet- right angles. Make GH equal to FE, and set off ing IC in c, then a line drawn parallel to EC, from the points 1, 2, 3, &c. in GHE at the same distances the point c, will give the height of the point 6", and respectively from HE, as the corresponding points so may be found the height of any other point. 1, 2, 3, &c. in EFD are from the line ED. A curve VOL. v. part i. K

JOINERY. 74 Joinery. kemg drawn through the points E, 1,2, 3, 4, 5, G would be its plan; and De' F a' E the form of a v Joinery, will complete the section. In large works the joiner mould, commonly called a face mould, for cutting “ the rail by, when DE is the inclination of the will often find it useful to put nails in the points, and out plank. We cannot, however, proceed directly to the to bend a regular lath against the nails; with the subject of stair-rails without considering the deassistance of the lath the curve may be drawn with velopement of the surfaces of bodies. more regularity. * . If the curve FD were very irregular, or a mixed Developement of Surfaces. line of straight parts and curved ones, the same me11. To develope the surface of a solid is to draw, To develope thod would determine the section ; all the caution a p iamid> y required is, that a sufficient number of points should on some plane surface, a form that would cover it. be fixed upon in the given curve ; and upon the pro- If this form were drawn upon paper, and the paper per selection of these points much of the accuiacy were cut to it, the paper, so cut, ought to cover exof the section will depend. actly the surface of the solid. Now, in joinery, it is The angle ribs of groined ceilings, the angle ribs often required that a mould should apply to a curvfor coved ceilings, or brackets for large cornices, and ed surface; and, therefore, the developement of that the angle cantilevers for balconies, or other works of surface upon a flexible material gives the form of the a similar kind, are found by this method. If FD be mould. The covering of a square pyramid may be found the cross rib of a groin, then GE will be the form oi the corresponding angle rib. Also, if the angle of a by erecting a perpendicular from the middle of one room be represented by LAC, and FD be the cove of the sides of its base, as from a in the side AB, fig. for the ceiling, then GE will be the proper angle rib 5. Upon this perpendicular set off a C equal to the slant height of the pyramid; then, with the radius for such a cove. . In some cases, the section may be determined by AC and centre C describe the arc A3, and set off means of the properties of the given curve, when the the distance AB three times upon the arc. Join the nature of that curve is known. Thus the oblique points C3, C2, Cl, CA, and CB, and draw the lines section of a cylinder is an ellipse, and the sections of 32, 21, 1A, which determine the covering required. It is obvious that we could develope a pyramid of a cone are certain figures depending on the direction of the plane of section (see Conic Sections, in the which the base might have any number of sides, by Encuclopcedid) ; but if an architect were confined to the same method; and that a near approximation to the use of geometrical curves, there would be small the developement ot a right cone might be effected scope, indeed, for a display of taste in his art, there- by the same means, which, in fact, is the means usufore the joiner must generally have recourse to the ally employed. But the following method of spreading out the surface of a cone will be found more corsimple method we have described. 10. The section of a body may often be drawn by reCt. 12. Let ABC, fig. 6, be an elevation of a cone. aToLone develope a more simple and direct process ; and yet wheie^ * the principle is still the same. Thus, the section of and ADB half the plan of its base. With the radius the half cylinder ACB, in fig. 4, being compared AC describe the arc AE, which will be the line with the process in fig. 3, will be found to be the bounding the developement; and, to find the length same in every respect, excepting in the position of of the arc, or rather the angle containing it, multiply the parts of the figure. In fig. 4, ACB is the end 360 by the radius A a of the baseband divide the or plan of the cylinder, and DE the inclination of the product by the slant height AC of the cone ; the plane by which it is cut. Let the ordinates n 1,6 2, quotient will be the number of degrees in the arc &c. in the plan, be drawn perpendicular to AB, and AE, when the surface ACE exactly covers the whole continued till they cut the inclined line DE. Also, cone. Thus, let Aa be 12 feet, and AC 40 feet; draw the ordinates a' T, b' 2', &c. perpendicular to rr: 108 degrees, and making ACE an the line DE, and make the distances a' T, b' 2', &c. then 40 respectively equal to the corresponding distances a 1, b 2, &c. upon the plan. Through the points E, angle of 108 degrees, we have the sector ACE that would cover the cone. 1', 2', &c. draw the curve DFE. This applies to the soffits of windows, where they As the curve DFE is an ellipse, when ABC is a are enlarged towards the inside, to admit light more circle, in that case it will be better to draw an ellipse with a trammel, or any other machine that produces freely than square recesses would do. If a6 be the the curve by a continued motion, (bee Ellipto- width of the soffit, draw cb parallel to AB, and from graph in this Supplement.') DE is the transverse, the centre C describe the arc cd. I hen half the developement AEcc? will be the mould for the soffit; or and Fc' the semi-conjugate axis of the ellipse. . The most important application of the case, in fig. the form of a veneer that would cover it. 13. The developement of a cylinder is also of use 4, is to the hand-railing of a staircase, with a curviin forming the moulds for soffits, but is still more lineal well-hole, or opening down the middle. For, if Ac, or aB, show the breadth of the rail, Ae C a B useful in the construction of stairs ; and, as we are

« A simple and convenient instrument for this purpose is described in the Transactions of the Society oj Arts, for 1817, Vol. XXXV. p. 109. 1

JOINERY. 75 Joinery, obliged to consider it as a prism with numerous sides, and the cornice of the ceiling to admit of the same Joinery, it is obvious that any other body of a like kind may bevel being preserved at the crown or top, as at the be developed by the same means. sides of the window, in such cases the soffit is made Let ACB, fig. 7, be the plan of half a cy'.'nder, level at the crown, or with such an inclination only and A'E its height. Divide the curve ACB into any as will prevent the architrave cutting into the cornice convenient number of equal parts, and let these of the room. parts be set off from C to A', and from C to B'. Let A BCD be the plan of the space to be coverWhen the curve is a semicircle, divide the diameter ed with a soffit, fig. 9, ED the arch of half the AB into the proposed number of parts, and make opening, which is in its proper position when set peroD equal to 3 4ths of the radius. From D through pendicularly over the line CD ; and let Fc be the the points A and B, draw the lines DA', DB', then height of the arch over AB. Produce AC and BD A'B' is nearly equal to the curve ACB stretched to meet at G ; set off cm equal to cF, and 3n equal out; * and, by drawing a line from D through each to 3E ; then draw a line through the points mn, of the divisions in AB, the line A'B' will be divided which will give the inclination of the soffit at the into the same number of equal parts. highest part of it. Divide the arch ED into any In either case, erect a perpendicular from each number of equal parts (in our example we have only point of division, and EA'B'F will be the develope- divided it into three parts), and from each point of ment of the surface. division let fall a perpendicular to CD, meeting the If we suppose A'B' to be divided into the number line CD in the points 1, 2. Through these points of steps, that would be necessary to ascend from B draw the lines Ga, Gb, cutting the line AB in the to A, in a circular staircase, the developement of the points ab, and from each point erect a perpendicuends of these steps may be drawn as in the upper lar to AB. Set off, on 3n, the heights of the points part of the figure. The projection G of the cylin- in the curve ED, and divide the line me in the same der, with the lines of the developement drawn upon proportion as n3, which will give the corresponding it, and the ends of the steps, shows the waving line heights for the arch FD, and through the points thus formed by the nosings of the steps, and consequent- found the arch FD should be drawn. ly by the hand-rail of a circular staircase. Make Go perpendiculartoGEcuttingalinepassing When a part of a cylinder is cut off by a plane, through the points m, n, in 0, and draw lines through r the line of section w ill be a curved line upon the de- the corresponding points of division in the lines ?hc, velopement, as is shown in the lower part of the de- w3, so that Go may be divided in the same proportion velopement, fig. 7. The faint lines show the manner as 113. Draw Gp perpendicular to GD, and equal to of finding the edge of the covering, and is the same Go, and set off upon it the same distances as are as finding a mould for a soffit formed by an arch cut- upon Go. Then, with a radius Gl, and the first diting obliquely into a straight wall. vision on Gp, as a centre, describe an arc at s, and To develope 14. In an oblique cone, the lines drawn on its sur- with a radius equal to one of the divisioss of the arc Cone.bIl would be of differ- ED and D as a centre, cross the arc s, which gives ent lengths, and as those lengths are not shown by one point. Also, with a radius G2, and the second the plan, or elevation, they may be had by means of division on Gp, as a centre, make an arc at t, which, the principle stated in art- 6being crossed by an arc described with a radius, Let ABC, fig. 8, be the given cone, and AEB a equal to one of the divisions of the arc ED, and s as plan of half its base ; to find the developement, pro- a centre, determines another point in the edge of the duce AB, and from the vertex, C, let fall the per- covering. Proceed in the same manner till half the pendicular CD. Divide the circumference of the developement of one edge be completed ; the other base into any number of equal parts, and from each edge will be obtained by drawing lines through the point of division describe an arc from D, as a centre, points s, t, u, from the corresponding points in Gp, to cut the line A13 at 1, 2, 3, &c. From C, as a and making svo equal to al; tx equal to 52, &c. centre, describe the arcs A A', 11, 22, &c. and with As both sides are the same, the soffit mould for a radius equal to one of the divisions of the circum- one side requires only to be reversed for the other ference of the base, and the centre B cross the arc side. If the soffit be level at the crown, the process 55, which determines the point 5 in the develope- may be rendered shorter ; but, where it is possible ment, with the same radius, and the point 5, as a to get space for a slight inclination, the appearance centre cross the arc 44, and so on for the remainder of the soffit is always materially improved. of the arcs. Join A'C, and draw a curve line through If the plan of the wall be circular, find the devethe points A', 1, 2, &c. which gives the-covering for lopement of the arc ED as before, and transfer the half an oblique cone. distances from CD of the points in the curved wall, If the cone be cut by a plane, ad, parallel to the to the corresponding lines in the developement, in base, the surface B&a'A' will be the covering of a the same manner as was done to find the edge J$ixxy. soffit for a conical arch cutting obliquely into a 16. The developement of a sphere, or globe, can To develope straight wall. be effected only by an approximate process, as it is a Sphere, To find the 15. As it often happens that there is not a sufH- impossible to apply a plane surface so as to touch c en ; s ace * Soffit^ ° ^ * P between the head of a door, or a window. more than one point at a time ; but various methods

* This has been shown by Dr C. Hutton, in his Mathematical Tracts, Vol. I. p. 160.

JOINERY, may be employed which are useful in forming sphe- pyramid, and BD the elevation of the arris, or line1 1 Joinery, formed by the common section of the planes in re- ** — rical surfaces. A sphere may be divided into numerous zones, spect to the line EB; EB being the projection of the surface of each zone may be tonsidered as that that arris upon the plan. Draw AC perpendicular to EB, cutting it in any of the frustum of a cone, and developed in the same manner as has been described for a portion of a cone point E, and from E draw EF perpendicular to DB. in art. 12. The upper part of fig. 10 shows half a With the radius EF, and centre E, cross EB in f; sphere developed in this manner; and when it is di- and join A/ and/C, then the angle A/C is the angle vided into very narrow zones, the covering found formed by the planes of the pyramid. The angle may be constructed when the plan by this process has some advantages, in practice, and elevation of any two lines drawn in the planes, that are peculiar to it. 17- The surface of a sphere may also be develop- so as to intersect in the arris, are given, but as these ed by inscribing it in a cylinder, LNMO, fig. 10, projections are not often given in drawings of joinand considering a small portion, or gore, ABD, to ers’ work, we have inserted the preceding, though it coincide with the surface of the cylinder. Then, if be a less general method, t The backing, or angle for the back of hip-raftthe portion ABD, considered as part of a cylinder, be developed by the process described in art. 13, one ers in carpentry, and of hipped sky-lights, is found gore, ABrf, will be obtained, and by dividing the cir- in this manner; ABC being, in that case, supposed cumference of the sphere into any number of equal to be the plan of an angle of the roof or sky.light, parts, and making AB equal to one of these parts, the and DB the inclination of the hip-rafter. 20. To show how the angle formed by two planes same mould will serve for the whole of the sphere. Another method of developing a sphere consists may be found when the plan and developement are in supposing it to be a polyhedral, or many-sided given, let it be required to find the angle contained figure, but this method has no advantage over the by the two faces of a square pyramid, fig. 5. Draw FB perpendicular to AC, and with the rapreceding ones, while it has the inaccuracies of both dius BF, and centre B, describe the arc FG. Then, of them. In lining and boarding domes, the position of the with the radius DB, and centre F, cross the former ribs to which the boards are to be fixed will deter- arc in G, join BG, and FBG is the angle formed by mine the method of developement that ought to be two, the inclined faces of the pyramid. adopted; but the form of the veneers for a spheriRaking Moulditigs. cal surface may be determined by either method. 21. When an inclined, or raking moulding, is in-Raking To determine the Angle formed by tvoo Inclined tended to join with a level moulding, at either anMouklings. Planes. exterior or an interior angle, the form of the level To find the The angle made by two planes which cut one. moulding being given, it is necessary that the form Angle of another, is the angle contained by two straight lines of the inclined moulding should be determined, so Planes in- drawn from any, the same, point in the line of their that the corresponding parts of the surfaces of the two mouldings should meet in the same plane; this 0 neC0rnm0n sec on anodier ^ ’ angles to that line; the er ° ‘ one in the one plane, and the other in the other. * plane being the plane of the mitre. It may be otherThis angle is the same as that which the joiner takes wise expressed, by saying, that the mouldings should with his bevel, the bevel being always applied so mitre truly together. If the angle be a right angle, the method of findthat its legs are square from the arris, or common ing the form of the inclined moulding is very easy ; section of the planes. If two lines, AB and CD, be drawn upon a piece and as it is not very difficult for any other angle, it of pasteboard, at right angles to one another, cross- may perhaps be best to give a general method, and ing at the point E, and the pasteboard be cut half to illustrate it by examples of common occurrence. through, according to the line AB, so that it may turn upon that line as a joint; then, to whatever General Method of Describing a Raking Moulding, tvhen the Angle and the Rake, or Inclination of the angle, CED, fig. 11, the parts may be turned, the Moulding, is given. lines EC, and ED, will be always in the same plane. Let ABC, fig. 13, be the plan of the angle of a General MeAlso, a line FD, drawn from any point D, in the til0tl line ED, to any point, F, in the line EC, will be al- body, which is to have a level moulding on the side ways in the same plane. From these self-evident AB; and this level moulding is to mitre with an inproperties of planes, it is easy to determine the clined moulding on the side BC. Also, let CBD angle formed by any two planes, when two projec- be the angle the inclined moulding makes with a letions, or one projection and the developement of the vel or horizontal line BC. Produce AB, and draw Cb perpendicular to AB; surfaces, are given. 19. Let ABC, fig. 12, be the plan of part of a also make DC perpendicular to BC, and dC perpen-

76 Joinery,

* This is the definition given by Professor Playfair, in his Elements (f Geometry, and is better suited to our purpose than Euclid’s definition. -j- On this subject, the reader may consult Monge’s Geometric Descriptive, Art. 19 et 20, par. 23 ana 24, 4th edition, Paris, 1820. 12

JOINERY. 77 Joinery, dicular to bC. Set off Cd equal to CD, and join flat surfaces, disposed so as to form distinct masses Joinery. bd; then the inclined moulding must be drawn on of light and shade. If the mouldings be of consilines parallel to bd. derable length, a greater distinction of parts is neLet 1, 2, 3, 4, &c. be any number of points in the cessary than in short ones. given section of the level moulding ; from each of Mouldings for the internal part of a building should these points draw a line parallel to bd; and draw not, however, have much projection ; the proper deA6' perpendicular to bd. Set off the points 1', 2', gree of shade may always be given, with better efS', 4'. &c. at the same distances, respectively, from fect, by deep sinkings judiciously disposed. The the line A6', as the corresponding points 1, 2, 3, light in a room is not sufficiently strong to relieve 4, &c. are from the line AB; and through the mouldings, without resorting to this method ; and points 1', 2', 3', &c. draw the moulding. The hence it is that quirked mouldings are so much moulding thus found will mitre with the given one, esteemed. also supposing the inclined moulding to be given, the level one may be found in like manner. Sect. II.—On the Construction of Joiners’ If the angle ABC be less than a right angle, the Work. whole process remains the same; but when it is a right angle, BD coincides with bd ; and the method 25. The goodness of joiners’ work depends chiefly Qualifksof describing the moulding becomes the same as ons of a , that usually given; as it does not then require the upon the care that has been bestowed in joining the Jl,t 00< . )ntr preparatory steps which are necessary when the materials. In carpentry, framing owes its strength ‘ ' ° to the form and position of its parts ; but in joinery, angle is any other than a right angle, or Pedi22. It is in pediments, chiefly, that the method of the strength of a frame depends upon the strength ents. forming raking mouldings is of use. Fig. 14 repre- of the joinings. The importance, therefore, of fitsents part of a pediment; AB is that part of the le- ting the joints together as accurately as possible is vel moulding which mitres with the inclined mould- obvious. It is very desirable, that a joiner should ing; all that part of the cornice below B, being con- be a quick workman; but it is still more so that he tinued along the front, the lower members of the should be a good one ; that he should join his materaking cornice stop upon it, and, therefore, do not rials with firmness and accuracy; that he should make surfaces even and smooth, mouldings true and require to be traced from the other. In that part of the cornice marked AB, set off a regular, and the parts intended to move, so that they sufficient number of points; and from each of these may be used with ease and freedom. Where despatch is considered as the chief excelpoints draw a line parallel to the rake, or inclination lence of a workman, it is not probable that he will of the pediment. Also, let a vertical line be drawn to each of the same points from the horizontal line strive to improve himself in his art, further than to rs. Make s't perpendicular to the inclination of the produce the greatest quantity of barely tolerable pediment, and with a slip of paper, or by means of work with the least quantity of labour. In some ararcs of circles, transfer the distances on rs to the ticles of short duration, despatch in the manufacture line r's, and from the points thus found draw lines may be of greater importance; but in works that parallel to st; the intersection of these, with the in- ought to remain firm for years, it certainly is bad clined lines, will determine the form of the mould- economy to spare a few shillings worth of labour at the risk of being annoyed with a piece of bad work ing, as is indicated by the letters. When a pediment has a cornice with modillions, as long as it will hold together. We have seen, with no small degree of pleasure, the caps of the modillions require to be traced by the effect of encouraging good workmanship in the the same method. )r Skirt23. It sometimes happens, that an inclined base- construction of machinery, and would recommend »5* moulding has to mitre with a level one at an angle; that a like encouragement should be given to supeand as the same thing occurs still more frequently rior workmen in other arts. with other mouldings, such as cornices under the Joining Angles. steps of stairs, &c. we shall give another example, which will serve still further to illustrate the method 26. When the length of a joint at an angle is not On Joining; of proceeding in such cases. considerable, it is sufficient to cut the joint, so that Angles, In fig. 15, a raking base-moulding is shown, where when the parts are joined, the plane of the joint shall the inclined moulding B is traced to mitre with the bisect the angle. This kind of joint is shown for horizontal moulding C ; and the horizontal mould- two different angles, by fig. 16, Plate LXXXVII. ing A is traced to mitre with the inclined one B. When an angle of considerable length is to be The preceding examples being understood, the lines joined, and the kind of work does not require a joinand letters in the figure will be sufficient to show ing should be concealed, fig. 17 is often employed; how the mouldings are traced, the small bead renders the appearance of the joint marks on 24. Mouldings being almost the only part of mo- less objectionable, because any irregularities, from Duldings. dern joiners’ work, which can, in strictness, be cal- shrinkage, are not seen in the shade of the quirk of led ornamental, and consequently that in which the the bead. taste of the workman is most apparent, we shall ofA bead upon an angle, where the nature of the fer a remark or two that may have their use. The thing does not determine it to be an arris, is attendform of a moulding should be distinct and varied, ed with many advantages; it is less liable to be informing a bold outline of a succession of curved and jured, and admits of a secure joint, without the ap-

JOINERY. 78 Joiner)'. pearance of one. Fig. IS shows a joint of this de- joint is much increased by putting a cross or feather Joinery, tongue in on each side of the tenon ; these tongues scription, which should always be used in passages. Fig. 19 represents a very good joint for an exte- are about an inch in length, and are easily put in rior angle, whether it be a long or a short one. Such with a plough proper for such purposes. The proa joint may be nailed both ways. But the joint re- jected figure of the end of a rail, fig. 22, shows these presented by fig. 20 is superior to it; the parts be- tongues put in, in the style there are grooves ploughed to receive them. ing drawn together by the form of the joint itself, Sometimes, in thick framing, a double tenon in they can be fitted with more accuracy, and joined with certainty. The angles of pilasters are often the thickness is made ; but we give the preference to a single one, when tongues are put in the shoulders, joined, as fig. 20. Interior angles are commonly joined, as shown by as we have described ; because a strong tenon is betfig. 21. If the upper or lower edge be visible, the ter than two weak ones, and there is less difficulty joint is mitred, as in fig. 16, at the edge only, the in fitting one than two. The pannels of framing should be made to fill the other part of the joint being grooved, as in fig. 21. In this manner are put together the skirting and da- grooves, so as not to rattle, and yet to allow the pando at the interior angles of rooms, the backs, and nels to shrink without splitting. 28. When a frame consists of curved pieces, they Joining back-linings of windows, the jambs of door-ways, are often joined by means of pieces of hard wood curved and various other parts of joiners’ work. called keys. Fig. 23 is the head of a Gothic winFraming. dow frame, joined with a key, with a plan of the The Object 2?. Frames in joinery are usually connected by joint below it. A cross tongue is put in on each of Framing, mortise and tenon joints, with grooves to receive side of the key, and the joint is tightened by means pannels. Doors, window-shutters, &c. are framed in of the wedges aa. It is, however, a better method to join such pieces this manner. The object in framing is, to reduce the wood into narrow pieces, so that the work may by means of a screw bolt instead of a key, the cross not be sensibly affected by its shrinkage; and, at the tongues being used whichever method is adopted. same time, it enables us to vary the surface without Joining ivith Glue. much labour. 29. It is seldom possible to procure boards suffiFrom this view of the subject, the joiner will readily perceive, that neither the parts of the frame ciently wide for pannels without a joint, on account nor the pannels should be wide. And, as the frame of heart shakes, which open in drying. In cutting should be composed of narrow pieces, it follows, that out pannels, for good work, shaken wood should be the pannels should not be very long, otherwise the carefully avoided. That part near the pith is geneframe will want strength. The pannels of framing rally the most defective. If the pannels be thick enough to admit of a cross should not be more than about 15 inches wide, and 4 feet long, and pannels so large as this should be or feather tongue in the joint, one should always be avoided as much as possible.* The width of the inserted, for then, if the joint should fail, the surframing is commonly about one-third of the width faces will be kept even, and it will prevent light passing through. of the pannel. Sometimes plane surfaces of considerable width It is of the utmost importance, in framing, that the tenons and mortises should be truly made. After and length are introduced in joiners’ work, as in a mortise has been made with the mortise chisel, it dado, window backs, &c.; such surfaces are commonshould be rendered perfectly even with a float; an ly formed of inch, or inch and quarter, boards joined instrument which differs from a single cut, or float with glue, and a cross or feather tongue ploughed file, only by having larger teeth. An inexperienced into each joint. When the boards are glued together, workman often makes his work fit too tight in one and have become dry, tapering pieces of wood, callplace and too easy in another, hence the mortise is ed keys, are grooved in, across the back, with a dovesplit with driving the parts together, and the work is tail groove. These keys preserve the surface straight, never firm; whereas if the tenon fill the mortise equal- and also allow it to shrink and expand with the changes ly, without using any considerable force in driving of the weather. 30. It would be an endless task to describe all^|llF the work together, it is found to be firm and sound. the methods that have been employed to glue up^.^ The thickness of tenons should be about one-fourth of that of the framing, and the width of a tenon should bodies of such varied forms as occur in joinery ; tor never exceed about five times its thickness, othewise, every joiner forms methods of his own, and merely in wedging, the tenon will become bent, and bulge from his being most familiar with his own process, out the sides of the mortise. If the rail be wide, he will perform his work, according to it, in a bettwo mortises should be made, with a space of solid ter manner than by another, which, to an unprejuwood between ; fig. 22 shows the tenons for a wide diced mind, has manifestly the advantage over it. The end and aim of the joiner, in all these operarail. i In thick framing, the strength and firmness of the tions, is to avoid the peculiar imperfections and dis-

* Pannels of external doors and shutters may be rendered more secure by boring them, and inserting iron wires. See Trans. Society of Arts, Vol. XXV. p. 106.;

k

JOINERY. 79 ^eiy. advantages of his materials, and to do this with the or steamed, in order that it may be in the best state Joinery. least expence of labour or material. The straight- for bending, should be made the subject of experiness of the fibres of wood renders it unfit for curved ments ; and this being determined, the relation besurfaces, at least when the curvature is considerable. tween the time and the bulk of the piece should be Hence short pieces are glued together as nearly in ascertained. the form desired as can be, and the apparent surface For the joiner’s purposes, we imagine, that the is covered with a thin veneer; or the work is glued process might be greatly improved, by saturating the up in pieces that are thin enough to bend to the re- convex side of each piece with a strong solution of quired form. Sometimes a thin piece of wood is glue, immediately after bending it. By filling, in bent to the required form upon a cylinder or saddle, this manner, the extended pores, and allowing the and blocks are jointed and glued upon the back ; glue to harden thoroughly before relieving the when the whole is completely dry it will preserve the pieces, they would retain their shape better. 32. Large pieces of timber should never be used Glueing up i deter ^orm ^at had been given to it by the cylinder, 00 611 ne^he* maThe ProPer thickness for the pieces to be bent in joinery, because they cannot be procured suffi-V 1,1^ ckness of y be easily determined by an easy experiment on ciently dry to prevent them splitting with the heat* : pieces to a piece of the same kind of wood. Thus, select a of a warm room. Therefore, the external part of tglued to- piece of wood, of the same kind as that to be used, columns, pilasters, and works of a like kind, should and bend it as much as it will bear without injury ; be formed of thin pieces of dry wood; and, if supthen ascertain the radius of curvature, and also the port be required, a post, or an iron pillar, may be thickness of the piece, at the most curved part of it. placed within the exterior column. Thus, to form From these data the proper thickness for any other columns of wood, so that they shall not be liable to curve will be determined by the following proportion: split, narrow pieces of wood are used, not exceeding As the radius of curvature, found by experiment, five inches in width. These are jointed like the is to the thickness of the piece tried ; so is the radius staves of a cask, and glued together, with short of any other curve to the thickness of the piece that blocks glued along at each joint. may be bent into it. " Fig. c2‘i> is a plan of the lower end of a column For example, we have found that a piece of straight glued up in staves ; the bevel at A is used for formgrained white deal, of an inch in thickness, may be ing the staves, that at B is used for adjusting them bent, without injury, into a curve of which the radius when they are glued together. A similar plan must is 120 inches, therefore, 120’. 1 '. : radius : thickness be made for the upper end of the column, which will radius give the width of the upper end of the staves. The = —• A hat is, a piece of deal of the same qua- bevels taken from the plan, as at A and B, are not the true bevels; but they are those generally used, lity may be bent into any curve, of which the radius and are very nearly true, when the columns are not is not less than 120 times its thickness. much diminished. To find the true bevels, the prinA piece of work glued up in thicknesses should be we have given in art. IQ should be applied. very well done ; but it too often happens that the ciple Ihe same method may be adopted for forming large joints are visible, irregular, and in some places open ; pillars for tables, &c. therefore other methods have been tried. If a column have flutes, with fillets, the joints by 51 If> a iece of wootl be ^min boiled in water fora should be in the fillets, in order to make the column erta •n .m P Boiling. p * O e, then taken out and immediately bent as strong as possible ; also, if a column be intended into any particular form, and it be retained in that to have a swell in the middle, proper thickness of form till it be dry, a permanent change takes place wood should be allowed for it. in the mechanical relations of its parts; so that, When columns or pillars are small, they may beSmallCothough when relieved, it will spring back a little, yet ]umns Ta madeofdry wood; and to secure them againstsplitting, bleLe > it will not return to its natural form. a hole may be bored down the axis of each column. gs>^’The same effect may be produced by steaming wood; but though both these methods have been Fixing Joiners Work. long practised to a considerable extent in the art of 33* We have hitherto confined our remarks to thatFixin S of ship-building, we are not aware that any general part of joinery which is performed at the bench ; A.Vork toge‘ principles have been discovered, either by experi- but by far the most important part remains to be* r ment or otherwise, that will enable us to apply it to considered. Tor, however well a piece of work may an art like joinery, where so much precision is re- have been prepared, if it be not properly fixed, it quired. We are aware that it has been tried ; but, cannot fulfil its intended purpose. As in the prebefore it can be rendered extensively useful, the re- ceding part, we shall state the general principles that lation between the curvature to which it is bent, and ought to be made the basis of practice, and illustrate that which it assumes, when relieved, should be de- those principles by particular examples. . termined, and also the degree of curvature which If the part to be fixed consist of boards jointed may be given to a piece of a given thickness. together, but not framed, it should be fixed so that ihe time that a piece of wood should be boiled, it may shrink, or swell without splitting. The na-

*

read

er will find some interesting propositions relating to flexure in the Article Carpextuy, p. 624,

JOINERY. and as the straightness and accuracy of these mould- Joinery, ture of the work will generally determine how this ings must depend upon the care that has been takenv Jl may be effected. Let us suppose that a plain back to fix the grounds truly ; it will appear, that fixing of a window is to be fixed. Fig. 25 is a section grounds, which is a part often left to inferior workshowing B the back of the window, A the window men, in reality requires much skill and attention ; sill, D the floor, and C the skirting. The back B is besides, they are almost always the guide for the supposed to be prepared, as we have stated in art. plasterer. Where the plasterer’s work joins the 29, and that it is kept straight by a dovetailed key grounds, they should have a small groove ploughed a. Now, let the back be firmly nailed to the winthe edge to form a key for the plaster. dow sill A, and let a narrow piece d, with a groove, in 36. remarks on construction, we must not Laying and cross tongue, in its upper edge, be fixed to bond omit toInsayoura few words on laying floors, because it^1 00 timbers or plugs in the wall; the tongue being ingive us an opportunity of pointing out a defect serted also into a corresponding groove in the lower will which might be easily remedied. The advice of edge of the back B. It is obvious, that the tongue Evelyn, to tack the boards down only the first being loose, the back B may contract or expand, as year, and nail them down for good the next, is cera pannel in a frame. The dado of a room should be tainly the best, when it is convenient to adopt it; Fixing fixed in the same manner.. In the principal rooms but, as this is very seldom the case, we must expect Skirting for 0f a house, the skirting C is usually grooved into the the joints to open more or less. Now these joints aU Rooms. floor and flxeci oniv to the narrow piece d, which ways admit a considerable current of cold air, and is called a ground. By fixing, in this manner, the also, in an upper room, unless there be a counter skirting covers, the joint, which would otherwise floor, the ceiling below may be spoiled by spilling a soon be open by the shrinking of the back ; and from little water, or even by washing the floor. To avoid the skirting being grooved into the floor, but not this, we would recommend a tongue to be ploughed fastened to it, there cannot be an open joint between into each joint, according to the old practice. When the skirting and floor. When it is considered, that the boards are narrow, they might be laid without an open joint, in such a situation, must become a any appearance of nails, in the same way as a dowreceptacle for dust, and a harbour for insects, the elled floor is laid, the tongue serving the same purimportance of adopting this method ot fixing skirt- pose as the dowels. In this case, we would use cross ing will be apparent. . . or feather tongues for the joints. . In fixing any board above five or six inches wide, There is a method sometimes used in laying floors, Folding similar precautions are necessary; otherwise, it is which workmen call folding ; according to this me-^0™ certain to split when the house becomes inhabited. thod, two boards are laid, and nailed at such a disWe may, in general, either fix one edge, and groove tance apart that the space is a little less than the agthe other, so as to leave it at liberty, or fix it in crreo-ate width of the boards intended for it; these the middle, and leave both edges at liberty. boards are then put to their places, and, on account Fixing Sometimes a wide board, or a piece consisting ot of the narrowness of the space left tor them, they Landings of several boards, may be fixed by means of buttons, Stairs, Tops screwed to the back, which turn into grooves in the rise like an arch between its abutments. I he woikof Tables, frami bearers, or joists, to which it is to be fixed. men force them down by jumping upon them. Accordingly, the boards are never soundly fixed to the If any shrinking takes place the buttons slide in the joists, nor can the floor be laid with any kind of grooves. In this manner the landings of stairs are evenness or accuracy. We merely notice this mefixed, and it is much the best mode of fixing the top thod here, in order that it may be avoided. of a table to its frame. . . , . . .. As hoards can seldom be got long enough to doling Forming 34, The extension of the principle of ploughing without joints, Architraves, and tonp.ueing work together is one of the most imit is usual, exC ^‘ portant of the improvements that have been intro- cept in very induced by modern joiners. It is an easy, simple, and ferior work, to effectual method of combination, and one that pro- join the ends vides against the greatest defect of timber work its with a tongued shrinkage. By means of this method, the bold joint, as shown _ . . mouldings of Gothic architecture can be executed by the figure, where B is the joist. Ihe etched with a comparatively small quantity of material; and board is first laid, and nailed to the joist. even in the mouldings of modern architecture it In oak floors, the ends are forked together somesaves much labour. For example, the moulded times as shown at part of an architrave may be joined with the plain A,in order to ren A part, as shown der the joints less by this figure. conspicuous. If this method The joints be compared should be kept as with the old distant from one another as possible. method ofglueHinging. ing one piece upon another, 37. It requires a considerable degree of care to Hingingits advantage will be more evident. hang a door, a shutter, or any other piece of work m Fixing 35* The architraves, skirtings, and surbase mouldGrounds. ings, are fixed to pieces of wood called grounds; the best manner. In the hinge, the pm should be

80 Joinery.

JOINERY. Joinery, perfectly straight, and truly cylindrical, and the parts it should be guardied by a railing of proper height Joinery, —accurately tilted together. and strength; in order that it may be easy, the''*-^^'^' The hinges should be placed so that their axes rise and width, or tread, of the steps should be remay be in the same straight line, as any defect in this gular and justly proportioned to each other, with respect will produce a considerable strain upon the convenient standings: there should be no winding hinges every time the hanging part is moved, which steps, and the top of the rail should be of a conveprevents it from moving freely, and is injurious to nient height for the hand. the hinges. The first person that attempted to fix the relation Proper proIn hanging doors, centres are often used instead between the height and width of a step, upon cor- portion for of hinges ; but, on account of the small quantity of reel principles, was, we believe, Blondel, in his Cours Stepsfriction in centres, a door moves too easily, or so d’Architecture. If a person, walking upon a level that a slight draft of air accelerates it so much in plane, move over a space, P, at each step, and the falling to, that it shakes the building, and is disagree- height which the same person could ascend vertiable. We have seen this in some degree remedied cally, with equal ease, were H; then, if h be the by placing a small spring to receive the shock of the height of a step, and p its width ;Vhe relation bedoor. tween p and h must be such, that when p = P, A = 0 ; The greatest difficulty, in hanging doors, is to and when /?=H, p—o. These conditions are satisfied' make them to clear a carpet, and be close at the bottom when shut. To do this, that part of the floor by an equation of the form ^H^l—Blonwhich is under the door, when shut, may be made to rise about a quarter of an inch above the general de! assumes 24 inches for the value of P, and 12 level of the floor ; which, with placing the hinges so inches for that of H ; substituting these values in as to cause the door to rise as it opens, will be sufficient, unless the carpet should be a very thick one. oui equation, it becomes Arz —(24—^3), which is preSeveral mechanical contrivances have been used for either raising the door, or adding a part to spring cisely Blondel’s rule. We do not think these the close to the floor as the door shuts. The latter is true values of P and H ; indeed, it would be difficult much the better method. The reader who may be to ascertain them; but they are so near, and agree desirous of examining this method, may consult the so well with our observations on stairs of easy asTransactions of the Society of Arts, &c. Vol. XXVI. cent, that they may be taken for the elements of a practical rule. Hence, according as A or p is given, p. 196. 38. Various kinds of hinges are in use. Some- we have A = -(24—p'), or ^ = 24—2A. times they are concealed, as in the kind of joints called rule joints ; others project, and are intended to Thus, if the height of a step be six inches, then let a door fold back over projecting mouldings, as in 24"—12=12 the width or tread for a step that rises pulpit doors. When hinges project, the weight of six inches. the door acts with an increased leverage upon them, 40. The forms of staircases are various. In towns. Different and they soon get out of order, unless they be strong where space cannot be allowed for convenient forms, kind of and well fixed. they are often made triangular, circular, or ellipti-Stairs>om The door of a room should be hung so that, in cal, with winding steps, or of a mixed form with Mrs. opening the door, the interior of the room cannot straight sides and circular ends. In large mansions, be seen through the joint. This may be done by and in other situations, where convenience and beaumaking the joint according to fig. 26. The bead ty are the chief objects of attention, winding steps should be continued round the door, and a common are never introduced when it is possible to avoid but-hinge answers for it. them. Good stairs^ therefore, require less geomebe proper The proper bevel for the edge of a door or sash trical skill than those of an inferior character. ;vel for may be found by drawing a line from the centre of The best architectural effect is produced by recon tangular staircases, with ornamented railing and oor! °f3 mo ^ C, fig. 27, to e, the interior angle of the rebate, draw ed perpendicular to Ce, which gives the newels. In Gothic structures scarcely any other bevel required. In practice, the bevel is usually kind can be adopted, with propriety, for a principal made less, leaving an open space in the joint when staircase. Modern architecture admits of greater the door is shut; this is done on account of the in- latitude in this respect; the end of the staircase terior angle of the rebate often being filled with being sometimes circular, and the hand-rail contipaint. nued, beginning either from a scroll or a newel. 41. When a rectangular staircase has a continued Rectangular Stairs. rail, it is necessary that it should be curved so as to ^taircase. airs. 39. The construction of stairs is generally con- change gradually from a level to an inclined direcsidered the highest department of the art of joinery, tion. This curvature is called the ramp of the rail. therefore we treat of it under a distinct head. The plan of a staircase of this kind is represented . principal object to be attended to in stairs by ABCD, fig. 28, and fig. 29 shows a section of it, is, that they afford a safe and easy communication supposing it to be cut through at the line ab, on the between floors of different levels. The strength of plan. a stair ought to be apparent as well as real, in orThe hand-rail is supposed to begin with a newel To find the der that those who ascend it may feel conscious of at the bottom, and the form of the cap of the new- CaP for safety. In order to make the communication safe, el ought to be determined, so that it will mitre with Newel* vol. v. part 1. L

JOINER Y. the hand-rail. Let H, fig. 30, be the section of the Divide this circle into eight equal parts, and draw Joinery, hand-rail, and ah the radius of the cap for the new- lines from the centre through the points of diviel; then the form of the cap may be traced at C by sion. With any radius aC, and C as a centre, describe the method we have already desciibed. (Ait. 9 the arc ac, and upon this arc set off any number ot and 10.) . , , n equal divisions. The extent of a division must be The sections of hand-rails are of various shapes; Height for Rail, &c. some of the most common ones are too small; a regulated by the quantity the curve may unfold at hand-rail should never be less than would require a each revolution, and the number depends on the of revolutions. square, of which the side is 2^ inches, to circum- number Then, beginning at A, draw Ab perpendicular to scribe it* , For the level landings of a staircase the height of Ca; db parallel to C'; de perpendicular to C2 ; ef the top of the hand-rail should be about 40 inches, parallel to C3; and so on for any number of revoluand in any part of the inclined rail the height o its tions. The points A, B, D, E, F, G, and H, in upper side above the middle of the width ot the step the curve, and the tangents to these points, are found, should be 40 inches less the rise of one step, when therefore the curve may be described by hand, or by means of circular arcs. measured in a vertical direction. The tangents to any interior or exterior spiral will To describe To describe the ramps, let rs be a vertical line the Ramps drawn through the middle of the width of the step, be parallel to the ones first found, and, therefore, of Rails. fig. 29; set off rn equal to rs, and draw ut at right any number may be drawn with the greatest facility. Neither the logarithmic nor the architectural spiangles with the back of the rail, cutting the horizontal line st in t. From the point t, as a centre, de- ral can he drawn truly by circular arcs ; but we shall scribe the curve of the rail. When there is a con- here point out the principle by which such spirals trary flexure, as in the case before us, the method may be drawn. When a spiral is drawn by means of circular arcs only, the centres ot the adjoining To draw of describing the lesser curve is the same. arcs must always be upon the same straight line; 42. The hand-rail of a stair often begins from a the Logaand the regularity of the curve will depend on the scroll; and that kind of spiral, which is called the rithmic Spiral. logarithmic spiral, has been proposed as the best tor number of arcs employed to describe one revolution. the purpose. It is shown by writers on curve lines, Let the proposed distance between the revolutions that any radial lines drawn from the centre will be be divided into as many equal parts as there are to cut by the logarithmic spiral in one and the same be circular arcs in one revolution; and, on the eye a centre, construct a regular polygon of the same angle. By means of this property of the curve, it as number of sides as the number of divisions, and each may be described as follows: equal to one division. Then the angles of the Let C be the centre, fig. 31, and draw AB per- side polygon will be the centres for describing the spiral, pendicular to DE, crossing it in C. Bisect the anas shown by the figures below, where the triangle, gles by the lines ab, cd. Draw eB6 to cut CB, at square, and hexagon, are given as examples ; the angle proposed for the curve, and to meet C6 in b; draw cb perpendicular to be, cutting Cc in c ; draw ca perpendicular to cb, cutting Ca in a ; and proceed round with as many revolutions as may be required in the same manner. Then B, E, A, U, t, G, &c. are noints in the curve, and the lines eb, cb, ca, ad, &c. are tangents to the curve at these points. Therefore, the curve may be either drawn by hand, or by means of circular arcs. Also, any number ot interior or exterior spirals may be drawn by drawing lines parallel to the tangents, as xy,yz, &c* U eb were to cross BC at a right-angle, the curve would be a circle. A new Spi- 43. The scrolls and volutes, used in architecture, ral proposed are always made to terminate in a circle at the centie, for Volutes, Scrolls, &c. consequently, none of the curves described by mathematicians are adapted for these purposes. ut the construction we have employed for the logarithmic spiral readily leads to a species of spiral that appears well suited for scrolls or volutes. In the logarithmic spiral, the angle of the curve is constant; but imagine the angle to change regularly, and to become a right angle at the point, where the circle, called the eye, begins. This would afford us a regular and pleasing curve, unfolding itself from a circle in the centre. This curve might be called the Architectural Spiral. . Let C be the centre, fig. 32, and round this centre describe a circle for the eye of the scroll, or volute.

82 Joinery.

JOINERY. 83 Joinery. . there is an abrupt transition from the rake of the Joinery, winding to that of the other steps ; at such places it v ——^ must be curved ; the curve may be drawn by the help of intersecting lines, as in fig. 36, if the workman cannot trust to his eye. The part which is shaded in fig. 35 represents the Developehfmd-rail and ends of the steps, when spread out, and m.ent of the the hand rail is only drawn close to the steps for con- Circular venience, as it would require too much space to raise it to its proper position. This developement of the rail is called the falling mould. The wood used for hand-rails being of an expensive kind, it becomes of some importance to conIf a spiral be drawn to begin from a circle at the sider, how the plank may be cut so as to require the centre, let the arcs be described from the angles of least quantity ot material for the curved part of the a rectangular fret, as in fig. A, the sides of which rail. Now, if we were to suppose the rail executed, may increase in any regular proportion. Or, a fi- and a plain board laid upon the upper side of it, the gure may be drawn in the same manner as the tan- board would touch the rail at three points; and a gents of the spiral, fig. 32, and the arcs described plank laid in the same position as the board would be from the angles, as in fig. B. By either of these that out of which the rail could be cut with the least methods a pleasing curve may be obtained. waste of material. Let it be required to find the moulds for the part To find the Face ab ol the rail, fig. 33, and to avoid confusing the Moulds lines in our small figure, the part ab has been drawn * to a larger scale in fig. 3F. The plain board, mentioned above, would touch the rail at the points marked C and B in the plan ; draw the line CB, and draw a line parallel to CB, so as to touch the curve at the point E. Then E is the other point on the plan ; and a', e', and b', are the heights of these points in the developement, fig. 35. Erect perpendiculars, to CB, from the points C, E, and B, fig. 34, and set off Ca, on fig. 34, equal to a'c, fig. 35; Ee equal to de', and B5 equal to fb'. Through the points C and E, draw the dotted line Ch; through ae draw a line to meet CE in h ; and through the points ab, draw a line to meet CB ing; then join hg, and make Ei perpendicular to hg. Now, if Ed be made equal to C«, and perpendicular to Cf; and di be joined, it will be the angle which the plank makes with the horizontal plane, or plan. Therefore, draw FD parallel to Ci, and find the section by the process described in Art. 10. This section is the same thing as would be obtained by projecting vertical lines from each point in the hand-rail against the surface of a board, laid to touch it in three points. The inexperienced workman will be much assisted in applying the moulds if he acquires a clear notion of the position when executed. To find the thickness of the plank, take the height To find the to the under side of the rail cr in the developement, Thickness of fig. 35, and set it off from s, in the line Ci, to r, in the Plank' fig. 34 ; from the point r draw a line parallel to di, and the distance between those parallel lines will be the thickness of the plank. The mould, fig. 34, which is traced from the plan. To apply is called the face mould. It is applied to the upper the Mouldsaircase Fig. 33 represents the plan of a staircase, be- surface of the plank, which being marked, a bevel th Circa- ginning with a scroll, and having steps winding round should be set to the angle idC, and this bevel being bended the circular part of the well-hole, applied to the edge will give the points to which the el-holc. jn flrgt p]ace^ jet tjje en(j 0f stepS 5e (je. mould must be placed to mark out the under side. veloped according to the method we have given in It is then to be sawn out, and wrought true to the Art. 13. Fig. 35 shows this developement. Now, the mould. In applying the bevel, care should be taken hand-rail ought to follow the inclination of a line to let its stock be parallel to the line di, if the plank drawn to touch the nosings of the steps, except where should not be sufficiently wide for di to be its arris.

JOIN li R Y. 84 Joinery. After the rail is truly wrought to the face mould, form very considerably, the one side becoming hoi- Joinery, s —" ^the falling mould, fig. 35, being applied to its con- low, and the other round; and in drying, they convex side, will give the edge of the upper surface, and tracted nearly 14 per cent, in width. The other kind in which the septa were nearly pa-Difference the surface itself will be formed by squaring from the ia convex side, holding the stock of the square always rallel to the surfaces of the boards, as at B in the shrinkage, so that it would be vertical if the rail were in its pro- marginal figure, retained, with very little variation, per situation. The lower surface is to be parallel to their primary form, and did not contract in drying more than three and a half per cent, in width. * the upper one. As Mr Knight had not tried resinous woods, two The sudden change of the width of the ends of the steps causes the soffit line to have a broken or irre- specimens were cut from a piece of Memel timber; gular appearance; to avoid it the steps are made be- and, to render the result of our observation more gin to wind before the curved part begins. Differ- clear, conceive the figure to represent the section of ent methods of proportioning the ends of the steps a tree, the annual rings being shown by circles. BD are given by Nicholson, Roubo, Rondelet, and represents the manB Krafft. We cannot in this place enter into a detail of ner in which one of these methods, but for the reader’s information a list our pieces was cut, and AC the other. of the principal writers on staircases is subjoined. Price, in his British Carpenter, 4to, 1735 ; Lang- The board AC conley, Builders' Complete Assistant, 8vo, 1738; Fre- tracted 3’7 5per cent. zier, Coupe des Pierres et des Bois, 4to, 1739 ; Rou- in width, and bebo, L'Art du Menuisier, folio, 1771 ; Skaife, Key to came hollow on the Civil Architecture, 8vo, 1774 ; Nicholson, Carpen- side marked b. The ters’ New Guide, 4to, 1792; Carpenters' and join- board BD retained ers’ Assistant, ^to, 1792 ; Architectural Dictionary, its original straight4to; Transactions Society of Arts, &c. for 1814; ness, and contracted Treatise on the Construction of Staircases and only 0*7 per cent. Handrails, 4io, 1820; Rondelet, Trade de VArt de The difference in Batir, Tome IV. 4to, 1814; and Krafft, Trade sur the quantity of contraction is still greater than in hard woods. LArt de la Charpenter, Part II. folio, 1820. From these experiments the advantages to be obtained, merely by a proper attention in cutting out Sect. Ill—On Materials. boards for panncls, &c. will be obvious; and it will also be found, that pannels cut so that the septa are Importance There is no art in which it is required, that of the sub- the structure and properties of wood should be so nearly parallel to their faces, will appear of a finer ject. thoroughly understood as in joinery. The practical and more even grain, and require less labour to make joiner, who has made the nature of timber his study, their surfaces even and smooth. The results of these experiments are not less inhas always a most decided advantage over those who have neglected this most important part of the teresting to cabinet-makers, particularly in the construction of billiard-tables, card tables, and indeed art. In the article Anatomy, Vegetable (Supple- every kind of table in use. For such purposes the ment), Vol. I. p. 306 and 332, the structure of wood planks should be cut so as to cross the rings as near- . is described ; in this place, therefore, we shall only ly in the direction BD as possible. We have no show how the joiner may, in a great measure, doubt that it is the knowledge of this property of avoid the warping caused by its irregular tex- wood, that renders the billiard-tables of some makers so far superior to those of others. ture. Beards cut ^ jt js we]i known that wood contracts less in In wood that has the larger transverse septa, as the ro ortioD in diaraeter than does in oak, for example, boards cut as BD will be figured, iar^Frection" P P > > ^ circumfewill not re- rence ; hence a whole tree always splits in drying, while those cut as AC will be plain. tain their Mr Knight has shown that, in consequence of this 47* There is another kind of contraction in wood Cause C°f V form. irregular contraction, a board may be cut from a whilst drying, which causes it to become curved in (J^ tree, that can scarcely be made, by any means, to the direction of its length. In the long styles of direction of retain the same form and position when subjected to framing we have often observed it; indeed, on this their length various degrees of heat and moisture. From the ash account, it is difficult to prevent the style of a door, and the beech he cut some thin boards, in different hung with centres, from curving, so as to rub against directions relatively to their transverse septa, so that the jamb. A very satisfactory reason for this kind the septa crossed the middle of some of the boards of curving has been given by Mr Knight, f which at right angles, and lay nearly parallel with the sur- also points out the manner of cutting out wood, so as faces of others. Both kinds were placed in a warm to be less subject to this defect, which it is most deroom, under perfectly similar circumstances. Those sirable to avoid. The interior layers of wood, being which had been formed by cutting across the trans- older, are more compact and solid than the exterior verse septa, as at A in the figure, soon changed their layers of the same tree; consequently, in drying, the

* Philosophical Transactions, Part II. for 1817, or Philosophical Magazine, Vol. L. p. 437. t Ibid. 8

-Sm * ir WJTXL-an, .

JOINERY. 85 Joinery, latter contract more in length than the former. This straighter grain, and less difficult to work, they are Joinery, irregularity of contraction causes the wood to curve, used in preference to our home species. Foreign in direction of its length, and it may be avoided by oak is also much used for cabinet-work, and lately, cutting the wood so that the parts of each piece the fine curled oak, that is got from excrescences proshall be as nearly of the same age as possible. duced by pollard, and other old trees, has been used Changes 43. Besides the contraction which takes place in wfith success in furniture. When well managed it is by drying, wood undergoes a considerable change in very beautiful, and makes a pleasing variety. It is bulk with the variations of the atmosphere. In relieved by inlaid borders of black or white wood, t|,er> straight grained woods the change in length is near- but these should be sparingly used. Borders of inly insensible, * hence they are sometimes employed laid brass, with small black lines, give a rich effect for pendulum rods; but the lateral dimensions vary to the darker coloured kinds. so much, that a wide piece of wood will serve as a The greater part of joiners’ work is executed in Kir. rude hygrometer, -j- The extent of variation de- yellow fir, imported from the north of Europe ; white creases in a few seasons, but it is of some importance fir is often used for internal work, and American pine to the joiner to be aware, that, even in very old is much used for mouldings. wood, w hen the surface is removed, the extent of vaThe forest of Braemar, in Aberdeenshire, furriation is nearly the same as in new wood. nishes yellow fir of an excellent quality, little infeIt appears, from Rondelet's experiments,^ that in rior to the best foreign kinds. wood of a mean degree of dryness, the extent of For the general purposes of joinery, the wood of Larch, contraction and expansion, produced by the usual the larch tree seems to be the best; this useful tree changes in the state of the atmosphere, was, thrives well on our native hills. We have seen some fine specimens of this wood from Blair Athol. It in fir wood, from —- to J- part of its width ; makes excellent steps for stairs, floors, framing, and 360 75 most other articles. and, in oak, from t0 Y part of its width. Mahogany, in joinery, is used only where painted Mahogany, work is improper, as for the hand-rails of stairs, or Consequently, the mean extent of variation in fir is for the doors and windows of principal rooms. For doors, it is not now so often used as it was formerly; its colour is found to be too gloomy to be employed -rzj) and, in oak, —; and, at this mean rate, in a 124? 140 in large masses. In cabinet-work it is almost the fir board about 12J inches wide, the difference in only kind employed for ornamental work. width would be ^th of an inch. This will show the Lime-tree, and the different species of poplar. Lime Tree, importance of attending to the maxims of construc- make very good floors for inferior rooms, and may Poplar, tion we have already laid before the reader; for, if often be used for other purposes in places where the a board of that width should be fixed at both edges, carriage of foreign timber would render it very exit must unavoidably split from one end to the other. pensive. Lime-tree is valuable for carved work, Kinds of The kinds of wood commonly employed in and does not worm-eat; but carving is, at present, Wood. joinery are, the oak, the different species of pine, seldom used in joinery. mahogany, lime-tree, and poplar. For farther information on wood, in addition to OaL Of the oak, there are two species common in this the works referred to, the reader may consult Eveisland ; that which Linnaeus has named Quercus robur lyn’s Silva, Dr Hunter’s edition; Duhamel, Du is the most valuable for joiners’ work ; it is of a finer Transport, de la Conservation, et de la Force des Hois, grain, less tough, and not so subject to twist as the Paris, 1767; Barlow’s Essay on the Strength and other kind. Oak is also imported from the Baltic Stress of Timber, 1817 ; Tredgold's Elementary Prinports, from Germany, and from America. These ciples of Carpentry, Sect. X. 1820; and the article foreign kinds being more free from knots, of a Dry-Rot in this Supplement. || (h. h. h.)

* Mr Ramsden and General Roy made some experiments on the expansion in length. See Account of the Trig. Survey, Vol. I. p. 46 and 49. j- See Phil. Trails. Lowthorpe’s Abridg. Vol. II. p. 37J Trade Theorique et Practique de l’Art de Bdtir, article Menuiserie, Tome IV. p. 425, 1814. || The roof of Westminster Hall being now under repair, the opportunity has been taken to examine the wood of which it is constructed; and it is found to be of oak, and not of chesnut, as stated in the Article Dry-Rot, Vol. III. p. 684. The oak has been of an excellent kind, but is now much worm-eaten.

86

IONIAN ISLANDS. Ionian ^ HE Ionian Islands formed, lately, a small part of Islands, the Venetian dominions; and, by a fate somewhat singular, they have been raised to the rank of an independent power without any efforts of their own, at the very period which witnessed the extinction of Venice itself, with Geneva, Ragusa, and many other small states that had existed for ages. These islands, which are seven in number, exclusive of some small dependent islets, are situated on the western and southern shores of Greece, between 36° and 40° of north latitude; and between 19° 40' and 23° 10' of Modern Names.

Ancients’ Names.

* Cephalonia, Corfu, Zante, Santa Maura, Cerigo, Theaki, Paxo,

Cephalenia, Corcyra. Phseacia, Zacynthus, Leucadia, Cythera, Ithaca, Paxus,

According to this table, these islands contain about 150 persons to each square mile, a density of population nearly equal to that of the most populous countries of Europe, and very remarkable, considering how great a proportion of their surface is too rugged to admit of any species of cultivation. Climate and The climate of the Ionian Islands resembles that Diseases. 0f t|ie continent of Greece, except that the surrounding seas temper in a greater degree the extremes of heat and cold, and render the atmosphere more humid. Snow often falls during the winter, and lies on the high grounds, but very rarely in the plains. The winter rains sometimes bring with them great quantities of a reddish sand, which the people think has been transported from Africa by the south wind. Sudden and furious squalls are frequent, and the Sirocco, or hot wind, which occurs at certain periods, produces the usual effects, a dull headach, lassitude, and a sense of oppression. The harvest, which is generally in May on the continent, is here in June. Earthquakes are very frequent, though not often very destructive. In Zante, two or three sometimes occur in a month; it is observed that

east longitude. Four of them lie in a group oppo- Ionian site the entrance of the gulf of Corinth ; other two, Islands. Corfu and Paxo, are situated about eighty miles north-west of this central group; from which Cerigo, the remaining island, lies about 150 miles southeast. The subjoined table gives a view of their extent and population; but the measurement can only be considered as approximations, as, we believe, no accurate map of all the islands has ever been published.

English Square Population. Miles. 500 270 180 150 130 60 20

60,000 60,000 33,352 18,000 9,000 9,400 3,968

1310

193,720

Authorities. Holland, 1812. Vaudoncourt, 1807 Williams, 1815. Holland, 1812. Do. 1811. Williams, 1815. Do.

they are preceded by a peculiar state of the atmosphere, producing a feeling of heaviness, or a sulphurous smell, and that they are generally followed by rain. Malaria prevails in low situations in the autumnal months; and the itch, which is common in some parts, instead of being eradicated by medical means, is rather cherished by the people, from a strange notion that it is a preservative against malaria. In other respects, the climate is agreeable and healthy, and instances of remarkable longevity are known, jThe rocks of all these islands belong to the same Geology, great calcareous formation which occupies the continent of Greece. They contain some, though very few, organic remains, and are disposed in highly inclined strata. The limestone, which is accompanied occasionally with beds of grey foliated gypsum, and with beds or masses of sandstone, is conjectured by Dr Holland to belong to the first flcetz limestone of Werner. At one spot, ten miles south of the town of Zante, are found a number of pitch wells, agreeing in their situation and appearance with the description given by Herodotus, two thousand four hundred years ago. They consist of small pools of

* The ancient geographers had a very imperfect idea of the extent of these islands. Strabo (Lib. x.j estimates the circumference of Cephalonia at 30 miles (300 stadia), instead of 100; that of Zante at 16 miles, instead of 60, and that of Ithaca at 8 miles, instead of 40. Pliny (Lib. iv.) gives 44 Roman miles as the circumference of Cephalonia, and 36 as that of Zante. -I" Holland’s Travels in Greece, p. 20, 37, 47 ; Williams’ Travels in Greece, Letters xlix. 1.; I urner s Tour in the Levant, I. 202, 204. 4

IONIAN Ionian water, fed b} springs, in a marshy tract near the islands. shorej having their sides and bottoms lined with petroleum in a viscid state, which, by agitation, is raised to the surface in flakes. It is collected once a year, and the produce is about a hundred barrels. (Holland, Chap. i. and ii.) , Topography. The surface of all these islands is so remarkably mountainous that they do not contain a quantity of arable land nearly sufficient to afford corn to the population ; and were it not that the vine, the olive, and the currant, enable them to extract a valuable produce from their rocks and declivities, they could support but a very small number of inhabitants. There is a considerable diversity, however, in the aspect and qualities of the surface of the different islands, which renders it necessary to speak of their [Corfu. topography separately. To begin with Corfu, the most northern, and the seat of the general government. This island, which is about 40 English miles long, and 15 in extreme breadth, lies opposite the coast of Albania, from which it is separated at one point by a strait two miles broad. A range of mountains occupies the centre of this island, the highest, summits of which, Mount Kassopo, must be nearly 4000 feet high, since the coast of Italy, at 80 miles distance, is visible from it. The island is rather bare of wood, and not abundant in good pasturage. Wheat is raised in some low situations near the coast; but, though called fruitful Corcyra by Dionysius, and celebrated for its riches by other ancient authors, its inhabitants depend chiefly on importation for corn, which they procure in exchange for their wine, oil, and salt. The capital, also named Corfu, which lies on the east side of the island, contains about 15,000 inhabitants, and is a pretty strong place. This island is the Phaeacia of Homer. A small bay, five or six miles south of the capital, is conceived to be the Alcinus Portus, where Ulysses, after his shipwreck, met with the daughter of Alcinous; and Fano, a small rocky inlet seven or eight miles in circumference, lying twelve miles off the north-west coast of Corfu, is the Island of Calypso. * ’axo. Paxo, the next in order, which is about seven miles long, and three broad, lies eight miles southeast of Corfu, and twelve miles west of the coast of Albania. Its surface is highly beautiful, much inclosed, and nearly^ covered with olive trees. Its capital, St Gago, contains a great proportion of the population, amounting to 8948 persons, who depend very much on trade for their subsistence. Antipaxo, an inlet five or six miles in circumference, and inhabited by a few fishermen, lies near it. (Vaudoncourt. Chap. xi. ; Williams, Let. xlviii.) eucadia. Santa Maura, about twenty miles long; and eight or nine broad, lies so close to the coast of Greece that it was formerly joined to it byr an isthmus. It is sixty miles south-east from Corfu, three miles from Ithaca, and five from the nearest point of Cephalonia. The surface consists of a range of limestone mountains, which rise to the height of nearly 3000 r

ISLANDS. 87 feet, and terminate on the south-west, in the cele- Ionian brated Leucadian promontory, where unhappy lovers, Islands, following the example of Sappho, came to cure themselves of an unrequited passion. The cliff is not very lofty, though sufficiently so for the purpose to which it was applied. It is still the custom of the neighbouring mariners, when passing, to throw in a small piece of money, as an expiatory offering. The island contains very little level surface, its principal products are olives and vines; and salt is made on the coast. I he capital, also named Santa Maura, containing 5000 inhabitants, is situated at the northern point of the island, where it is separated by a narrow channel from the continent. The ancient name Leucadia, or, as it is now pronounced, Lefcadia, is still known among the inhabitants, and ought to be used to distinguish the island from its capital. (Holland, Chap. iii.; Vaudoncourt, Chap, xi.) I heaki, the ancient Ithaca, the regal seat of UlyTs- Ithaca, ses, consists merely of a narrow ridge of limestone, seventeen miles long, and four in extreme breadth, rising into rugged eminences, with scarcely a hundred yards of continuous level surface in its whole extent. Near the middle, it is intersected by a deep bay, which penetrates four miles inwards. Upon this bay the town of Vathi, the capital, is situated, containing 2000 inhabitants. The chief produce of the island is currants; but it yields, also, a small quantity of oil and wine, the latter much esteemed. 1 he grain raised suffices only for three months’ consumption. On a hill near Vathi are some massive ruins of ancient walls, with a number of sepulchres, which are supposed to mark the site of the capital °* Ulysses. Near the south-east end of the island is a clift called Koraka at present, and supposed to be the rock Korax, mentioned in the Odyssey, and under it, in a secluded and picturesque spot, is a fountain, conceived to be that of Arethusa, where Ulysses met the faithful Eumaeus. The island is still named Ithaca by the more intelligent natives, which is corrupted into Theaki by some of the lower classes. Between Ithaca, Santa Maura, and the continent, are situated four small rocky ides, named Meganisi, Calamo, Atako, and Carlo, besides several minute islets, of little or no importance. (Holland, Chap, iii.) Cephalonia, three miles from the nearest point ofCephalonia. Ithaca, is the largest of all the Ionian Islands. Its greatest length is forty Englishr miles, and greatest breadth twenty-four. A lofty chain of mountains, the Mount iEnos of antiquity, nearly 4000 feet high, occupies the centre of the island, and sends off branches to all the principal promontories. The wood which covered a part of these hills was wantonly burnt, about twenty years ago, during some internal disturbances. A deep gulf penetrates far inland from the south side of the island ; and, upon the east side of this gulf stands Argostoli, the capital, containing 4000 inhabitants. Lixuri, the only other town, contains 5000 inhabitants; and there are, in the island, 175 villages. (Turner, 192.) The surface

* Memoirs of the Ionian Islands, by General Guilliaume De Vaudoncourt, translated by Mr Walton, Chap. xi.

33 I O N I A N I S L A N D S. Ionian of Ceplialonia is generally rocky ; the soil thin, and turns of the former are estimated at 6 or 7, and of Ionian Islands. less fertiIe than tiiat 0f Zante. Its chief productions the latter at 8 or 9 for 1. (Williams, Appendix, Islands. i- v —mi ^ are Currants, oil, and wine. Some ruins of Cyclopian No. iii.) Flax and cotton are cultivated to a small walls mark the site of the city of Samus, mentioned extent in several of the islands. Cephalonia is comby Homer; and there are some remains of Krani, puted to yield of the latter 100,000 pounds annualPronos, and other ancient cities. Vestiges of the al- ly, of an excellent quality. (Vaudoncourt, 438.) tar of Jupiter JEnesius are said still to exist on the The number of oxen, sheep, and goats, is considerable in the islands less adapted to the cultivation of top of Mount TEnos. (Holland, Chap, ii.) Zante. Zante, which lies ten miles south from the nearest the currant, vine, or corn ; but others, such as Zante, point of Cephalonia, is about sixty miles in circum- have very few, and all are partly supplied with cattle ference. Unlike the neighbouring islands, its sur- and poultry from the Morea. Milk cows are rare, face consists chiefly of a large plain, reaching from the milk of goats being preferred for ordinary use, the southern to the northern coast, but bounded on as well as for the manufacture of cheese. The prothe east and west sides by calcareous ridges, about duce of wax and honey in some of the islands is very 1200 or 1300 feet high. This plain, covered with great. Cerigo is stated to have had 1280 hives in vineyards and olive groves, with only a few spots in 1811, and 60,000 or 80,000 pounds of honey of an tillage, presents the appearance of luxuriant fertility, excellent quality are collected annually in Cephaloand has procured for the island the title of the “Car- nia. (Vaudoncourt, 437. Holland, 43.) The cultivation of vines and olives is an object of dives, den of the Levant.” The capital, Zante, situated on the east side of the island, contains 18,000 inhabit- greater attention to the inhabitants than that of ants. Zante contains very few antiquities; and corn, and is more skilfully conducted. Nine sorts though smaller, and inferior in population to some of of olives grow in Zante, differing considerably in the other islands, is the richest of them all. (Hol- their qualities. The fruit begins to ripen in November, but does not fall off till towards the end of Deland, Chap, i.) Cerigo. Cerigo, the ancient Cythera, the last of the seven cember, or the beginning of January. This is the islands, is about 50 miles in circumference, and is si- time when they are gathered, but in some places tuated near the south coast of the ancient Laconia, they are plucked with the hand, and not allowed to 150 miles from the nearest of its Ionian confederates. fall. They are carried to the mill in April, but the The face of the island is mountainous, and though harvest is not entirely at an end till the month of reported to be the birth place of Venus, it is rug- May. The oil is carried to the sea ports in sheep ged, barren, and destitute of beauty. Its produc- skins. Olives are cultivated to the greatest extent tions are similar to those of the other islands, but it in Corfu, where the produce collected every two is less commercial, and abounding more in pasturage, years amounts, in middling seasons, to 700,000 jars, it raises a considerable number of sheep and cattle .* or 90,000 barrels, f annually. Zante produces about Agriculture. Landed property, in all the islands, is in the 30,000 barrels; Cephalonia, 30,000; Leucadia, bands of a comparatively small number of persons, 3000; Paxa, 8500; and Ithaca, 1500. Including who form a proud, oppressive, and rapacious aristo- Cerigo, the annual produce of olive oil will not be cracy. The Venetian senate, while it possessed much less than 200,000 barrels. While the Venethese islands, kept all the more solid advantages to tians were masters of the island, and retained a moits own citizens, but bestowed titles, which cost nopoly of the oil trade, the price averaged from 40 nothing, profusely upon the petty insular chief- to 43 livres of Corfu (6s. 8d.to 7s. 2d.) per jar; but tains ; and nobles, destitute of education, honour, in 1802 it rose to 60 livres (JOs.); and in 1807 (a or property, are as common here as in Italy. The dear year) was 17| dollars per barrel, or about 19s. lands are generally let by the 3rear, the tenant pay- per jar. The oil is of four different qualities, the ing half the produce to the landlord,—a species of finest of which is fit for the table, and the othertenure almost universal in rude countries. In Ce- three species are used in various manufactures. ( Wine is made in all the islands to a small extent. Grapes. phalonia, where property is pretty much divided, In Zante, forty species of grape are distinguisheC, the largest proprietor has not above L. 800 or L. 900 a-year; but in Zante there are estates of more than but the small black species, known under the name double this value. (Holland, 36.) In the rural eco- of currants, is the only kind extensively cultivated. nomy of the Ionian Islands, corn is an object of se- Ithaca produces about 12,000 barrels of wine annucondary importance, and farming is conducted on ally, of a quality superior to that of the other islands, the rudest principles. Barley, wheat, maize, and and which sells about 20 dollars per barrel. Cephaoats, are cultivated, but the quantity of grain of all lonia produces from 30,000 to 35,000 barrels of kinds raised does not exceed one-half, and in some good wine. Zar.te yields only about 4000 barrels; of the islands is not one-third, of the annual amount Leucadia 1000. The produce of the other islands of consumption. Of the corn raised in Ithaca, is not known. § Oranges, lemons, and citrons, are one-tenth is wheat, and nine-tenths barley. The re- raised in several of the islands, both for domestic use - Galt’s Voxiapes and Travels, 1812, p. 137. Holland, Chap. iii. , , ,. + The barrel rather exceeds the millerole of Marseilles, or 59«7 litres (Vaudoncourt); and, accotdmg to Williams, is equal to 128 English pints. These accounts agree, and the barrel may therefore be considered as one-fourth of a hogshead. ... ,,r , , , ( Vaudoncourt, Chap. xii. Holland, Chap. ii. and iii. Williams, p. 173, and Appendix, No. m. W alpoles Memoirs relating to Turkey, p. 288. ... § Holland, p. 22. Vaudoncourt, Chap. xii. Williams, Appendix, No. m.

IONIAN ISLANDS. 89 Ionian sod exportation; and salt is supplied for exporta- imports are corn, woollen, cotton, and linen goods, Ionian Islands. tion in large quantities from Corfu and Leucadia. velvets, cured fish of various kinds, sugar, coffee, iron, Islands. _ The currant is the staple produce of Zante, where lead, dye-stuffs, paper, drugs, spices, &c. Zante, in it occupies nearly two-thirds of the cultivated land. 1815, exported goods to the value of 591,000 dolIt is raised also in Cephalonia and Ithaca, but does lars, Cephalonia has 250 vessels of various sizes. not succeed in Corfu or Leucadia. Its culture is The little island of Paxo has 56 vessels, and exportconducted with great neatness, and when the flower ed goods to the value of 96,000 dollars in 1815. is out, the aspect of the great vineyards is singularly Ithaca, in 1815 or 1816, had 3598 tons of shipping, rich and beautiful. It thrives best in a deep rich which, with boats belonging to the island, employed soil, at the foot of mountains. The currants are ga- 823 men, and 74,360 dollars of capital. The little thered about the beginning of September, somewhat island of Cerigo, the least commercial of the whole, sooner than other grapes ; are spread abroad for eight had, in 1809, only about 25 vessels, nearly all boats' or ten days, and are usually ready for packing by the employing 230 men. The number of Ionian vessels end of September. The annual produce of Zante is that trade with Turkey was estimated, in 1816, at fiom /,000,000 to 8,000,000 pounds, the price of 250, of which 200 were under their own flag, and which in the island varies from 14s. to 18s. per hun- 50 under the Russians. We should probably not dred weight. Cephalonia yields from 5,000,000 to err much if we estimated the exports of the whole 6,000,000 pounds, and Ithaca 500,000. The whole islands at something more than double those of produce of the Ionian Islands in this article may Zante, or about one-third of the computed gross therefore be estimated at 13,000,000 or 14,000,000 produce of the land, namely, L. 300,000 Sterling. pounds. (Holland, Chap. ii. and iii. Vaudoncourt, A great number of their vessels trade with the RusChap, xii.) sian ports in the Black Sea for corn, others with nnual Mr Williams gives the estimated value of the anroduce. nual produce of the three islands Zante, Paxo, and Malta, Greece, Italy, France, and Spain. In the intercourse between the islands which lie near one Ithaca, in corn, wine, oil, currants, honey, and flax, another, a species of long slender boat is used, named the chief productions, but excluding minor articles, Monoxylon, made of a single piece of wood, preservsuch as cheese, fruit, &c. The estimates appear to ing both the form and the name of the vessels used be official, and as they are probably deduced from in earliest and rudest stage of Greek navigation. surveys made for the purpose of taxation, they are (Potter s Antiquities, Book iii. Chap, xiv.) The inentitled to some degree of confidence ; but it would terest of money, in common cases, is 10 per cent. have been more satisfactory had he stated upon what Ihe merchants are generally poor and unenterpris* basis they were formed. The annual produce of mg, but a few individuals have accumulated conZante, in 1815, is stated at 1,066,145 dollars, or siderable fortunes. (Williams, Vol. II. 183.) One L. 234,000; that of Ithaca, 98,896 dollars, or individual, a nobleman is mentioned, who is said to L. 22,000; that of Paxo, 104,018 dollars, or L. 23,000. possess a million of dollars. If these islands continue These three statements give, on an average, L. 6 Ster- to enjoy tranquillity, and if their internal economy is ling of produce for each inhabitant, but, as some of impioved, it is probable they will attract a considerthe other islands are less favourably situated, L. 5 is part of the trade which now centres in Salonica, probably high enough, as a mean, and if we com- able Hydia, Spechia, and other Turkish ports, where the pute the annual value of the produce of the whole on merchants are exposed to loss and vexation from the this principle, it will be L.970,000 (Williams, 72-183, rapacity and violence of the Turkish government. * and Appendix, No. iii.), or, in round numbers, The public revenue arises from a tithe or impost Public ReL. 1,000,000 Sterling, and this is exclusive of what is on the various species of produce raised within thev Itures of this spot rival its geological interest; and The hogs or peat mosses, of Ireland, form a re- Bogs, in no part of the empire is a nobler cliff to be markable feature of the country, and have been seen than is presented by Cape Pleskin, which proved by the Parliamentary Commissioners to be overhangs the ocean with a precipice 374 feet in of great extent. They estimate the whole bogs of height. Adjoining to this natural curiosity is Fair- the kingdom at 2,330,000 Acres En-. head, the north-east promontory of Ireland, and eleGf these are flat red bog, 1,576,000 vated above 500 feet above the sea. It presents a Mountain, 1,255,000 vast mass of rude columnary stones, many of them exceeding 200 feet in length; and at the feet of Ihese bogs, for the most part, lie together. In these gigantic columns lies a wild waste of natural form, they resemble a great broad belt, drawn ruins, of an enormous size, which, in the course of across the centre of Ireland, with its narrowest ages, have been tumbled down from their foundations end nearest to the capital, and gradually extendby storms, or other convulsions of nature. A savage ir breadth as lt L approaches the Western Ocean. wildness characterizes this great promontory, at the I he Bog of Allan is not one contiguous morass, foot of which the ocean rages with uncommon fury. but this name is indiscriminately applied to a great The Atlantic Ocean breaks with inconceivable vio- number of bogs, detached from each other, and lence upon the western shores of Ireland; and, to often divided by ridges of dry country. These this cause, the extraordinary indented line of the bogs are not, in general, level, but most commonly coast is to be attributed. Along the greater part of of an uneven surface, swelling into hills, and divided this coast, the sea appears to be gaining’ on the by valhes, which affords the greatest facility to their land; and, in many places, particularly in the pe- bemg drained and improved. In many places, parninsula of Rossgall, in the county of Donnegal, ticularly in the district of Allan, the rivulets which large tracts have been overwhelmed by sand. (Ha- these inequalities of surface produce have worn their milton’s Memoir, Vol. VI. Irish Trans.) channels through the substance of the bog down to 'toil. The soil of Ireland is, generally speaking, a fertile the clay or limestone gravel beneath ; dividing the loam, with a rocky substratum; although there are bog into distinct masses, and presenting, in themmany exceptions to this description, and many va- selves, the most proper situations for the main drains, rieties. Generally speaking, it is rather shallow; to and which, with the assistance of art, may be renwhich cause the frequent appearance of rocks near dered effectual for that purpose. (Fourth Report of the surface, or at no considerable depth, is to be at- the Parliamentary Commissioners, 1813-14.) tributed. It possesses a much greater proportion of The two circumstances which the Commissioners fertile land, in proportion to its extent, than either point out, as affording the principal inducements to England or Scotland, as will be seen from the fol- attempt the improvement of the Irish bogs, are the lowing table. {Parliamentary lieyorts, 1813-14.) elevation at which they are all placed above the sea and the uneven surface which they almost unirp . English Acres. 1 otal extent of surface, 20,437,974 formly exhibit. The following table will show, Total extent of bog and mountain, 2,330,000 in one view, the elevation above the sea of the principal bogs to which their attention has been diRemain of arable ground, 18,107.97‘4 rected : VOX., v. PART I. Ireland.

IRELAND. northern shore of Loch Neagh. It rises to a great Ireland, height at the north-western extremity of the island, H- 53 0 46 9 1793 22.855 214 1803 19-67 193 the sea, . . ) 1794 28.82 222 1804 30.03 231 Do. near Armagh, 58 feett 1795 26.48 196 1805 22.47 above the sea, . J 54 20 47 5 204 1806 24.49 1796 21.94 Do. of neighbourhood of Tul 216 1807 26.50 1797 24.45 lamore, 206 feet above the 53 12 48 0 1798 20.16 191 1808 23.182 sea, 1799 22 126 1809 28.899 Do. of the city of London 1800 23.56 1810 23.663 197 47 6 to 49° derry. 1801 21.96 194 Do. of Dublin, 53 21 50 0 to 52 Do. of Cork, 5 i 54 52 5 to 53 At Londonderry; At Cork. It would appear, that the climate of Ireland has Years. Inches. Years. Inches. Years. Inches. for some years past undergone a progressive alteration for the better. (Ibid. I. 214.) The following 1795 32.861 1738 54.5 1744 33.6 table exhibits the changes in this respect, which 1796 25.718 1739 54.5 1745 48.4 have taken place within the last twenty years: 1740 21.5 1746 30.0 1797 30.821 1798 33.231 1741 33.6 1747 30.0 State of the Thermometer at Dublin and Belfast, from 1742 38.1 1748 37.4 1799 34.770 1800 29.226 1743 39-3 1792 to 1804. 1801 32.197 DUBLIN. Years. 1792, 1793, 1794, 1795, 1796, 1797, 1798, 1799, 1800, 1801, 1802, 1803, 1804,

Average, 31,118

Greatest.

Least.

Mean.

77° O' 75 5 79 50 78 78 5 75 81 74 81 50 75 76 79 50 75

19° 5' 28 32 19 50 20 22 25 14 50 23 34 22 22 31

50.509 49.64 51.915 49.191 48.847 49.49 49-22 45.06 47-809 49-278 48.637 49.16 49.916

At Cork, and generally over the south of Ireland, it appears that the winds blow three-fourths of the year from the west and south-west. (Smilles’s Survey of Cork.) An account of the actual population of Ireland, Population, drawn from a survey by Government, is a great desideratum in the statistics of the country. The following table will show with what rapidity the numbers of the people have increased within the last 50 years. (Wakefield, II. 712.) Souls. In 1754 Ireland contained 2,372,634. 1767 2,544,276. 1785 2,845,932. 1791 4,206,612.

IRELAND. Ireland. Since that period a very great increase has unquestionably taken place. The present population does not probably' fall much short of 5,500,000. (Newenham, 41.') Without pretending to any accuracy of detail, the following may be considered as an approximation to the population of its principal cities, according to the most authentic accounts which can be collected. (Wakefield, TI. 712-20.) 1. Dublin, 167,899. 2. Cork, 90,000. 3. Limerick, 60,000. 4. Waterford, 40,000. 5. Belfast, 22,095. Agriculture. 6. Drogheda, 15,000. 7. Kilkenny, 14,975. The Agriculture of Ireland is, generally speak8. Londonderry, 13,635. ing, in a very backward state. With a few ex9. Kinsale, 8150. ceptions, such as the county of Meath, and some 10. Wexford, 5922. other well cultivated districts, the farmers are desti11. Colerain, 5000. tute of capital, and labour small crofts, which they 12. Lisburn, 5000. hold of middlemen interposed between them and the Freeholders. The number of freeholders in Ireland is very great. landlord. The fact that the landlord never, in IreThey are, for the most part, tenants of the landed land, lays out any thing upon repairs or buildings, proprietors, possessing a life interest in their little coupled w ith the general inability of the farmer to farm, so as to entitle them to vote at elections. The do either in a substantial manner, is very significant following table * of the number of freeholders, most as to the state of agriculture. (Tighe’s Survey of of whom are not worth L. 10, will be not a little Kilkenny, 412; Wakefield, I. 244.) The leases are surprising to the English reader : generally of long endurance ; three lives or 31 years is a common rate. But the worst features of the 40s. L. 20. L. 50. Counties. rural economy of this island are the entire w ant of capital in the farmers, and the complete indifferAntrim 152 8074 227 ence of the landlord to the character, wealth, or in120 Armagh 6053 144 dustry, of his tenant. “ Capital,” says Mr WakeCarlow 295 3249 359 field, “ is considered of so little importance in Ire5720 134 Cavan 177 land, that advertisements constantly appear in the 508 37S Clare 9290 newspapers, in wdiich it is stated, that the preference Cork 4605 1266 1733 will certainly be given to the highest bidder. Bar508 420 City 215 gains are constantly made with a beggar, as a new 128 Donnegal 122 6131 tenant, if he offers more rent, invariably turns out 14,613 Down 225 442 the old one, however industrious. Even if the un188 Drogheda Town 10 29 fortunate wretch has a little ready cash to begin with, 229 Dublin 974 1007 it only serves, in 99 cases out of 100, as a temptation 12 130 City 470 to the landlord, who, when the fact becomes known 301 Fermanagh 232 6869 to him, finds means to obtain it under the name of a 12,782 Galway 224 277 fine for possession.” (Vol. I. p. 587.) Regard to Kerry 3970 336 480 present gain, without the least attention to the futu re, 164 Kildare 1713 545 constitutes the principal object of the Irish landlord. Kilkenny 1624 226 406 {Ibid. I. 304.) 33 45 27 —— City The rent of land in Ireland from these causes, King’s County 288 235 2557 coupled with the excessive competition of the pea6035 211 Leitrim 102 santry for small farms, as their only means of subLimerick 5912 986 891 sistence, has risen to a great height. (Townsend’s City 206 237 429 Cork, 218; Wakefield, I. 582.) Londonderry 9902 278 191 The following table exhibits the average rent in Longford 114 2118 117 the different counties, as they were taken by Mr Louth 756 56 71 Wakefield in 1810, distinguishing the rent for cultiMayo 204 15,443 193 vated area from that of the total area : Meath 1584 537 69

100 Ireland.

* This table shows an aggregate of 184,492 freeholders voting on freeholds of 40s. value.

Ireland.

is there pursued, it is obvious how much the pro- Ireland, portion of the produce of the soil in Ireland, which goes to the landlord, has encroached on what should be left as a remuneration to the farmer. (WakeL. s. d. L. Antrim, field, I. 585.) 0 7 6 Armagh, The price of land varies in different parts of Ire- Price of 1 6 0 Carlow, land. In the neighbourhood of Belfast, and thence Land, 2 9 6 Cavan, to.Armagh, it brings thirty years’ purchase; in the 1 6 0 Clare, . greatest part of the island, it does not exceed twen1 17 0 Cork, ty, and, in the richest districts, it may often be 1 5 0 bought for sixteen or eighteen. The exposure of Donnegal, 0 7 0 Down, landed estates to public sale takes place very sel2 0 0 dom, which is perhaps one cause of their not bringDublin, 3 0 0 ing so high a price as they would otherwise do. Fermanagh, 1 0 {Ibid. I. 307.) Galway, 1 10 0 Kerry, The whole country is classed by Mr Wakefield Agricultural 0 10 0 into nine agricultural divisions, in each of which the districts, Kildare, 1 8 0 Kilkenny, mode of culture is somewhat different from what it 2 0 0 is in the others. The first district comprehends King’s County, 1 15 0 Louth, . the flat parts of Antrim; the eastern side of Ty1 10 0 Leitrim, rone, Down, Armagh, Monaghan, and Cavan. 0 13 0 Limerick, Throughout this district, the farms are extremely 3 8 5 small, and the land is generally dug with the spade. Longford, 1 7 6 Potatoes, flax, and oats, are the crops usually cultiLondonderry, 0 18 0 Mayo, vated, and these are grown till the land is exhaust1 5 0 ed, and suffered to “ lie at rest,” as they term Meath, 2 10 0 it, till its strength is recruited by the cow, the Monaghan, 1 6 0 goat, two or three sheep, and the poultry lying Roscommon, 1 15 0 upon it, for some years. The ploughs used in this Queen’s County 2 0 0 Tipperary, district are of the rudest structure, and perform 3 0 0 their work in the most slovenly manner. Three or Tyrone, 2 0 0 1 6 0 four neighbours unite their strength to each plough, Waterford, 2 0 0 every one bringing his horse, his bullock, or his West Meath, 2 0 0 cow. All the other operations of agriculture are Wexford, . 1 8 0 Wicklow, . performed in an equally slovenly manner. The 0 12 0 little wheat that is raised is “ lashed,” as they call it, that is, the grain is knocked out by striking the Average, L.l 18 8 L.l 4 9 sheaf across a beam placed above a cloth, which, And calculating the difference between the green however, is afterwards thrashed with a flail. This acres and total area at one-fourth (according to Mr operation of thrashing usually takes place in the Arrowsmith’s opinion), this will give L.l, 7s. Id. as highway, and it is dressed by letting it fall from a the average rent of the total area of the island. This, kind of sieve which, during a pretty strong wind, upon 12,722,615 Irish acres, gives L. 17^228,540, is held breast high by a woman. Many cottars in as the total rental of the island, in Irish money this district have a cabin with no land attached to (Wakefield, I. 305) ; or, upon 20,437,974 English it. They hire an acre or two, for grass or poacres, yields an average of about 17s. per English tatoe land, from some cottar in their vicinity. The acre. custom of hiring labourers is unknown, the neighThe capital laid out in the improvement of the bours all assisting each other in their more considersoil is extremely small when compared with that able occupations, such as sowing, reaping. The employed in the neighbouring kingdoms of Eng- dwellings here are miserably small; often too small land and Scotland. In 1799, Mr Young calculated to contain the numerous families that issue from that, converting Irish acres into English, it would re- their doors. Land is everywhere divided into the quire an outlay of L. 5 an acre to place Ireland on most minute portions. (Wakefield, I. 363; Dua footing with England in this respect. The whole bourdieu’s Down, 39-) amount, therefore, of the sum required would be Under the second district may be comprised the L. 88,341,136. (Young’sIrish Tour, II. 9.) From the northern part of Antrim, Londonderry, the north change in the value of money, Mr Wakefield has since and Avest of Tyrone, and the whole of Donnegal. calculated that the sum required to effect such a Agriculture here is in a worse state than in the prechange would be L. 120,000,000, independently alto- ceding district. There is no clover, and hardly any gether of the capital which the British agriculturist wheat. Clover is unknown, and the only mill for brings to his farm in order to carry on the cultivation the preparation of grain is in Derry. {Ibid. I. 372.) of tue land. When it is considered how little capital The third district comprehends the northern is thus sunk in the Irish soil, and recollected that parts of Fermanagh. Here the farms are much the average rent of England is only 20s. an acre, larger than in the former, and the agricultural syseven under the superior mode of cultivation which tem pursued far superior. They plant potatoes on Green or Cultivated Acres.

Total Area.

IRELAND. 102 The seventh district includes part of Tipperary, Ireland. a lea, twice reversing the lands, and the course is flax, oats, and weeds. Some wheat is grown, but with Queen’s County and King’s County. The best oats is still the prevalent crop. In the neighbour- farming in Ireland is observable in this district; a hood of Enniskillen, the farmers are so rich as to systematic course of husbandry being pursued, bv Ire able to eat butcher meat daily and drink wine. Avhich the land is kept in good heart. Oxen and horses are used in the plough, and hedge-rows and (Wakefield, I. 379-) The fourth district comprehends Sligo, Mayo, Gal- good wheat fallows are to be seen. Near Roseria way, Clare, and parts of Roscommon, and Longford. the cultivation of turnips is followed, and they sucIn some parts of this district the spade culture is ceed well. Ninety acres is considered a large farm. pursued; but, in general, the land is cultivated by Leases are generally for three lives. (Wakefield, I. a plough drawn by four horses abreast. In Ros- 398.) common, the old custom of yoking the horses bj' The eighth district comprises Wexford and a the tail is still continued, although, so early as 1634, part of Wicklow. Beans are here sometimes inan act of Parliament was passed against this ab- troduced into cultivation, but they are sown broadsurd practice. {Life of the Duke of Ormond, I. cast, and never hoed. The mode of ploughing is 79.) Oats are chiefly raised in this district, and, very awkward; one man holds the plough, another along the coast, barley is cultivated. A large por- leads the horse, and a third sits on it to keep it down. tion of the rent depends on the illegal distilleries, Notwithstanding this rude culture, however, the and much of the district is let on lease to several rents are enormous. {Ibid. I. 407.) persons jointly, according to the village system. The ninth district comprehends the northern part (Wakefield, I. 381.) of Kilkenny, Kildare, the cultivated parts of West In the fifth district, which comprehends Lime- Meath, Meath, and Lowth. Wheat here enters into the rick, Kerry, the south side and northern part of system of culture, but the preparatory fallows are Cork, and the county of Waterford, cultivation is very bad. Clover has been introduced into the disin a very rude state; little corn is grown here, with trict, but under the bad system of sowing it upon the exception of the southern part of Cork. Land land exhausted, and covered by weeds. Farms are is extremely divided, and the farms very small. large, and the mode of culture similar to what is The greater part is a grazing country. {Ibid. I. pursued in England, though the details are executed in a much more slovenly manner. {Ibid. I. 387.) The sixth district includes the southern parts of 413.) Tlie following table exhibits, at one view, the proCork. The spade culture is here almost universal, and the farms unusually small. Hogs constitute duce of these different districts, according to the the main support of the poor. (Townsend’s Cork, mode of cultivation at present adopted. The seed and produce is given in pounds Avoirdupois: 194.) DISTRICTS.

Seed.

Prod

Seed. Prod

BARLEY. Seed. Prod.

POTATOES. Seed. Prod. Seed. Prod.

Seed. Prod.

224 2274 203 3500 209 2982 333 2636 2392 22.248 30 203 2646 291 3227 1383 15.183 175 2135

785

222 2024 196 3584 244 2765 308 2749 2144 22.289 243 2537 261 4480 249 3024 298 2970 2592 24.328

972

232 1857 187 186 2353 257 2353 211

896 824

3131

173 2828 320 2265 2660 22.358 296 2614 368 2606 2632 21.140 3494 246 3235 361 3063 2639 27.113

Average in Win- ^ Chester bush. >- 3.38 33.6 4.01 69.2 4.4 to Irish acres, j To English acres, 2.086 20.74 2.47 24.7 2.71 General Ob- The implements of husbandry used in Ireland are servations all of the rudest construction. The plough, the on the Hus- spade, the flail, the carr, all equally partake of bandry. imperfections and defects. The fallows are not well attended to; three ploughings are usually deemed sufficient, and, from the imperfection of the plough the ground at the end is generally full of weeds. Trenching land is very general; they form it into beds, and shovel out a deep trench between them, throwing up the earth. The expence of this

54.6

8.4

33.7

5.18 44.5

72-4

operation is about 8s. an acre. Wheat, as will be seen from the preceding details, is not by any means generally cultivated. It is unknown in Monaghan, Tyrone, Derr}', Donnegal, Sligo, Mayo, Leitrim, and Cavan, though it is grown to a considerable extent in Kilkenny, Carlow, Dublin, Meath, Louth, and parts of Limerick, Tipperary, Clare, and Cork. It is generally sown after potatoes or fallow. The Irish wheat is, for the most part, coarse and of inferior quality, and does not yield so much saccha-

IRELAND. 103. Ireland, rine matter by 20 per cent, as the English. (Wake- years, owing chiefly to the great demand and near Ireland. field, I. 429, 442.) vicinity of England We have given a view of the Barley is more generally cultivated than wheat, Irish exports of oats and oatmeal, wheat and wheat and it is generally sown after potatoes. Oats, flour, and of all other kinds of grain, in the tables however, constitute the species of grain most ex- contained in our article on the Corn Laws and tensively raised; it is calculated, that through- Trade, particularly table eleventh, to which we out the whole kingdom, there are ten acres of beg to refer the reader. oats sown for one of any other species of corn. The The export of butter to England and Scotland Butter, Irish oats, however, are decidedly inferior to the has, of late years, been very great. English. The potatoes of Ireland have long been celebrated, both on account of their quantity and exEngland. Scotland. Total. cellent qualities. They are cultivated on every spe- Year ending Czvts. Czvts. cies of soil, either in drills or lazy beds. Potatoe 5th January 1814, 335,761 16,071 351,832 land lets from L. 6, 6s. to L. 10, 10s. per acre; and 1815, 334,856 16,819 351,675 the expence of culture, including rent, varies . 1816, 316,209 21,169 337,378 from L. 13 to L. 1(3 per acre. The produce is from 1817, 286,678 17,286 303,964 800 stone to 1000 stone the acre, at twenty-one pounds to the stone; that is, from 16,800 to 21,000 To foreign parts, in 1814, . 109,682 pounds. (Ibid. I. 450.) 1815, . 80,479 The indigenous grasses of Ireland are not of any 1816, . 90,815 peculiar excellence. Notwithstanding all that has 1817, 87,154 been said of the florin grass, its excellence and utility may be called in question. Their hay is selOf these, upwards of 50,000 cwts. were annually dom from seed, generally consisting of the spon- exported to Portugal. taneous produce of the soil. Clover is almost unThe export of beef and pork has increased in the Beef and known. Mr Newenham calculates that there are same striking manner. Pork. not 5000 acres under this crop in the whole island. (Newenham, 314; Wakefield, I. 467.) There are Bullocks Barrels, and Cows. few living hedges in Ireland; in the level stone dis- Exports of Beef, on an avetricts, stone walls, and, in other places, turf-banks rage of five years, ending 1782, 172,690 2,993 are the usual fences. 1790, 138,016 The dairy is the most extensive and the best 1795, 128,598 managed part of Irish husbandry. Kerry, Cork, Of eight years, ending I796, 123,877 17,258 Waterford, Carlow, Meath, West Meath, Longford, . 5th March 1803, 112,059 25,494 and Fermanagh, as well as the mountains of Leitrim • • . Year 1804, 79,347 28,522 and Sligo, are principally occupied by dairy farms. Butter is the chief produce. The average number Pork Exported from Ireland. of cows on a dairy farm is thirty or forty ; three acres of land, of middling quality, are deemed nePork, Bacon, Hams, Hogs. cessary for the subsistence of each cow. The aveBarrels. Flitches. Cwt. rage produce of a cow is eight quarts in twenty- On an average of four hours in summer, and five in winter; four Seven years, good milkers will yield half a cnt. of butter in a ending 1770 41,649 7,881 223 week. The best butter is made in Carlow; the 1777 55,240 19,125 624 worst in Limerick and Meath. Generally speaking, Five years, endthe Irish are very clean in making this article, and ing 1782 87,085 5,983 317 280 it is exported to England, the East and West In- Seven years, dies, and Portugal. (Wakefield, I. 325, et seq.) ending 1792 94,079 41,418 945 The grazing of Ireland is not, as in England, a Year 1796 114,844 70,144 part of the regular rotation of crops, but is car- Year 1802 to ried on in a country exclusively devoted to the Jan. 5 1803 117,676 90,772 breeding of cattle like the Highlands of Scot- Year 1804 11.9,049 114,382 3955 12,976 land. Great tracts of the country also are devoted to the grazing of sheep. Roscommon, Galway, To these tables we shall subjoin a statement of the Clare, Limerick, and Tipperary, are the chief breed- agricultural exports of Ireland to Great Britain, during countries for sheep; and Galway, Clare, Ros- ing the year 1819, which shows equally its progrescommon, Tipperary, and Meath, are the places sive increase and the invaluable importance of the where they are fattened. The sheep are of the long- British market to Irish industry. woolled kind, and very large; they are never kept Exports of Ireland to Great Britain during the year in sheep-folds, and hardly ever fed on turnips ; 1819. which is chiefly owing to the very limited demand for mutton among the labouring people. (Ibid. Oats, Quarters, 759,608 I. 341.) Wheat, do. 127,308 20,290 Barley, do. gricultural The Agricultural Exports of Ireland have insports. creased at a very rapid rate within the last forty 3,903 Beans, Quarters,

104 Ireland.

I REL AND. Oatmeal, 'cwts. 47,150 Flour, do. 92,893 Cows and oxen, number, 46,330 Hides, do. 10,710 Sheep, do. 14,498 Lamb skins, do. 269,204 Calf ditto, do. 70,218 Lime, tons, 8,183 Swine, number, 49,212 Bacon and hams, cwts. 234,338 Salted beef, barrels, 59,807 Butter, cwts. - 429,614 Bones, tons, 917 Manufactures.

The manufactures of Ireland are now very conLinen Manufacture. siderable, particularly the linen manufacture. This great and staple branch of Irish industry was established by the Duke of Ormond, in 1669; and, in the beginning of the following century. Parliament took it under its protection, and voted considerable sums of money for its support. At the same period, a Board was established, which has since exerted itself most vigorously for its encouragement. It enhances the value of this manufacture to the Irish population, that the raw material of which it is composed is raised almost entirely within the island. It would appear that the number of acres under flax in 1810 was little short of 100,000, which, at 30 stone an acre, and 10s. 6d. the stone, will give an annual produce of the raw material worth L. 1,500,000. (Wakefield, I. 683.) Spinning by the hand was universal till the commencement of the present century ; and, though the use of machinery has since been introduced, yet it is by no means invariably followed, in consequence of the very low rate of wages at which the manufacturers can get spinning performed by the wives and daughters of the labouring population. The Irish women have long been celebrated for their skill in this department. The earnings of the weavers depend on their industry, and the fineness of the materials on which they work. The average earnings of a linen weaver may be estimated at 7s. a-week. Their looms cost from four to five guineas, but many houses will hold three looms. The weavers estimate that, when working themselves, they can make a web a-week, and a web is, at an average, worth 10s. The principal seat of the linen manufacture is in Ulster; but, with the exception of Wexford and Wicklow, where it is unknown, it flourishes all over Ireland. In the neighbourhood of Belfast, at Leitrim, at Londonderry, in Donnegal and Tyrone, in Cavan, Louth, Meath, and Dublin, it flourishes in a remarkable degree. The quantity sold in Dublin, during the year ending March 1, 1809, appears from the following statement. (Reports of Linen Board, VI.; App. 18.) Average value of 10,227 boxes inwards bound, L. 1,636,320 Ditto outwards bound, 9279 boxes, 1,738,590 10

Total, L. 3,374,910

Inwards.

Outwards,

Ireland.

Thelinen entered at the Linen Hall, in the year ending 1st March 9,495 9,060 1808, was, in boxes. f Ditto 1809, 10,277 9,279 Increase,

732

219

The pieces of linen bleached in the county of Londonderry may amount to 250,000; and estimating the value of each piece at L. 2, 5s. 8d., the actual value of the linen bleached in this- county alone may be estimated at L. 562,500. On the river Bann there are twenty bleachfields, which bleach annually, at an average, 8000 pieces, giving 160,000 pieces in all, the value of which is certainly above L. 500,000. (Wakefield, I. 694.) In the neighbourhood of Belfast and Leitrim, this manufacture has diffused happiness and prosperity ; but in the remote districts of Mayo and Sligo, the effect upon the labouring poor has been just the reverse. So strongly does this appear, that Mr Wakefield gives it as his decided opinion, that the extension of the linen manufacture over the whole island, would bring with it an extension of poverty and famine, and would, if continued for any length of time, be the greatest curse which could be entailed on the country. (Ibid. I. 699.) It is remarkable, too, that this manufacture is solely the growth of artificial encouragement; for such is either the national aversion to industry in general, or to this branch of it in particular, that nothing is done without the assistance of government. A spinner, to be industrious, must be presented with a wheel; a weaver, before he will work, must be supplied with a loom ; a bleacher, to carry on his work, must be presented with a house in Dublin, for the purpose of selling his commodity. (Ibid. 698.) The following is a table of the sums expended in bounties by the trustees during the undermentioned years. Years. 1802 1803 1804 1805 1806

-

L. 13,857 8,861 13,064 11,423 13,243

Years. 1807 1808 1809 1810 1811

-

L. 16,973 11,184 7,302 21,768 17,819

The Cotton manufacture was introduced into Ire- Cotton Maland by Messrs Joly and MfCabe in 1785, and seems, nufacture. from the following table, to liave taken a pretty strong root.

Average importation ofl cotton for three years, > ending 1799, J Ditto 1807, Ditto 1810, -

Cotton Wool. Cwt.

Cotton Yarn. Lbs.

10,983

460,013

17,782 32,257

1,223,081 1,057,115

This manufacture is principally Carried on in the neighbourhood of Belfast, where, in the year 1809, it appeared, that in a circle of 10 miles i employed 27,000 persons. It has also spread to Dublin, Kil-

IRELAND. 105 Deland, dare* Wicklow, Wexford, and Louth. At Coulon in Cork, Fermanagh, Limerick, Waterford, Roscom- Ireland, Louth, there are 1300 looms employed in calico mon, Dublin, Belfast, Cavan, Armagh, Donoughweaving. Upon the whole, this branch of industry more, and Dungarrow ; one of the largest breweries is spreading rapidly in Ireland, and promises, at no in the island brews upwards of 100,000 barrels per distant period, to become a staple article of manu- annum. The following table shows the quantity of facture. (Wakefield, I. 705.) malt used in the breweries and distilleries from Woollen The woollen manufacture does not exist to any 1804 to 1817. Cloths. considerable extent. It was formerly depressed and checked by the jealous commercial policy of EngYear ending January 5, 1804, 905,649 land ; and, though the Union has placed the two Ditto, 1805, 715,479 countries on an equal footing in this respect, the Ditto, 1806, 705,114 superior wealth and commercial enterprise of EngDitto, 1807, 717,232 land have prevented all successful competition. BeDitto, 1808, 604,561 tween 1794 and 1809, the total number of pieces exDitto, 1809, 662,019 posed to sale, in the Woollen Hall of Rathdrum, did Ditto, 1810, 753,981 not exceed 55,000. The manufacture of woollen, Ditto, 1811, 642,850 however, in a coarse way, for their own consumpDitto, 1812, 683,446 tion, is carried on to a great extent by the people. Ditto, 1813, 562,234 In many parts of the country the great mass of the Ditto, 1814, labouring poor manufacture their own woollen Ditto, 1815, 804,327 cloths. In some places the women not only make Ditto, 1816, 679,018 stockings, petticoats, &c. for their children, but Ditto, 1817, 479,033 some coarse woollen articles for sale. (Wakefield, The Export of Manufactures has increased very Export of I. 710; Survey of Clare, 179; of Kilkenny, 523.) Gloves and The manufacture of gloves, especially those called greatly within the last 40 years. The following Manufacother Arti- “ Limerick gloves,” is carried on to a considerable table shows the progressive increase in the export 0fture5, cles. extent. Iron was formerly wrought to good profit linen, the staple commodity of the kingdom, dur- Linen”""" and in great quantities: but all the founderies are ing the last, and that part of the present century now in disuse. Hardware articles, however, are which has elapsed : manufactured at Dublin, and coarse implements of Yards. Average from 1700 to 1750, husbandry at Carlow. {Ibid. I. 724.) 4,000,000 1750 to 1756, The Distilleries of Ireland are very extensive, Distilleries. 11,796,361 and the quantity of spirits made at the unlicensed 1757 to 1763, 14,511,973 1764 to 1770, stills, in all probability, still more considerable. 17,776,862 In five years, from 1802 to 1800, 13,439 unlicensed 1770 to 1777, 20,252,239 stills were seized in Ireland, and 11,098 heads, and 1. Year ending 25th March 1800, 9732 worms. The principal licensed distilleries are 35,676,908 f to 5th Jan. 1801, established at Limerick, Cork, Ross, Dublin, and 25,141,516 to 5th Jan. 1802, Drogheda. In the year 1808, the greatest licensed 37,767,077 distiller in the kingdom made 17,000 gallons a-week, 1803, 35,491,131 and kept his distillery working between nine and 1804, 36,432,365 ten months in the year. The following table exhi1805, 42,988,621 bits the quantity of corn spirits for which duty has 1806, 43,534,971 been paid in Ireland for ten years previous to Ja1807, 39,049,727 nuary 5, 1813. 1808, 40,901,442 1809, 43,904,382 Gallons. Year ending January 5, 1804, 4,426,085 And in the year 1819, there was exported to Ditto, 1805, 3,611,312 Great Britain alone 38,038,182 yards of plain, and Ditto 1806, 3,756,671 1837 of damask linen. Ditto 1807, 3,931,829 The following table shows the official value of the Ditto 1808, 5.707.158 linen exported from Ireland in different years, from Ditto 1809, 3,643,751 1809 to 1820: Ditto 1810, 72,996 Years. Years. DittOj 1811, 4.719.159 Ditto 1809, L. 2,933,109 1813, 1812, 6,500,361 L. 2,389,722 1810, Ditto. 2,478,869 1818, 1813, 4,085,913 3,441,806 1811, 2,460,380 1819, 3,132,454 During the greater part of 1810 distillation was 1812, 2,095,657 1820, 2,317,411 prohibited. From September 29, 1816, to February 5, 1817, there were 235,347 barrels of corn of 12 Of this quantity it is computed that upwards of stone each used in distilling. L. 2,000,000 annually comes to Great Britain. Spain It is but of late years that public breweries have takes nearly L. 100,000 annually ; the West Indies, breweries. been established in Ireland, but they have spread m 1815, received upwards of L. 100,000, and the to a great extent. The principal breweries are at United States, in 1811, no less than L. 180,000. VOL. v. part 1. o

IRELAND.

Export of Cotton.

Export of Spirits.

The Official Value of the Cotton Goods exported in 1811, was L. 93,482 1812, 23,640 1818, 68,537 1819, „ 43,751 1820, f 54,777

Cotton Wool.

Imported. Cwts. 49,785 53,133 47,122 26,109 30,162 20,551

1810, 1811, 1812, 1813, 1814, 1815,

Exported. Cwts. 11.454 16,148 4,709 6,891 16,285 12.455

The export of Spirits was, on an average of seven years, ending Gallons. 25th March 1796, 10,284 Do. 10th Oct. 1802, 950,180 1803, 990,898 1804, 917,476 1805, 1,121,968 1806, 550,441 The great export of Irish spirits is to foreign states. The quantity exported to Great Britain, in 1819, was only 107,026 gallons. Immense numbers of goose quills are annually sent from Ireland to this country. Those exported to Great Britain, in 1819. amounted to 9,541,320.

Commerce of Ireland from the year 1777 to the year 1815 :

Commerce and Shipping. The following tables exhibit a general view of the

5,464,951 658,071 932,192 7,055,214 6,930,370 586,927 652,523 8,170,820

Official Value of Imports. Average of Three Years, ending 25th . March. . 1777 1783 1793 1800 Year ending 5th of Jan. 1811 1815

From Great Britain. L. 1.949,420 2,334,900 2,753,969 3,727,859

British All other Colonies. Countries.

Total.

L. L. L. 161,058 651,820 2,762,298 76,184 631,938 3,043,021 242,995 1,168,020 4,164,985 146,069 783,885 4,657,784

Official Value of Exports. Commerce and Ship* ping.

Bri- To British 25th March. To Great Colonies. tain.

Other Countries.

Total Irish Total Foreign General Total. Produce. Goods.

L. 2,494,455 2,300,671 4,039,581 3,778,520

L. 287,628 315,798 371,145 265,629

L. 401,889 460,976 715,259 306,491

L. 3,153,181 3,054,680 5,060,040 4,225,254

L. 30,791 22,766 65,944 125,386

L. 3,183,992 3,077,446 5,125,984 4,350,640

5,159,884 5,731,119

304,954 443,781

458,557 913,856

5,525,606 6,614,646

397,507 474,110

5,923,113 7,088,756

1777 1783 1793 3 800 5th Jan. 1811 1815

Imports into, and Exports from, Ireland for three Years, ending 5th January 1820. Official Value of Produce and Manufac- Foreign and Colonial tures of the United KingMerchandise dom exported from exported. Ireland. L. s. d. L. s. d. L. s. d. 5,644,175 16 5\ 6,412,892 10 2 150,562 7 Si 6,098,720 2 11 6,436,950 14 11| 84,078 9 6,395,972 17 5fi 5,708,582 15 7f 61,882 12 2| Official Value of Imports.

Year ending 5th Jan. 1818, 1819, 1820,

The real value of the produce and manufactures of the united kingdom, exported from Ireland in the year ending 5th January 1820, computed at the average prices current, amounted to L. 9,747,206, Is. l^d-

Ireland.

Ireland. Shipping.

IRELAND. 107 The following tables show the present state of the Ships. Tons. Ireland. Shipping of Ireland: Number of vessels built and registered Ships. Tons. Men. Number of vessels belonging in Ireland, on an average of 3 years, to Ireland, with the aending 5th January 1790 63 2531 mount of their tonnage and 1801 20 1285 men, on an average of 3 1811 28 1403 years, ending 30th Sep45 1992 1815 tember 1790 1076 64,457 6335 One year ending 5th January 1815 46 1973 1800 1009 51,358 4937 Do. 1819 48 2283 1810 mb' 59,584 5430 Do. 1820 37 1606 1300 68,793 6204 One year 1818 1288 69,283 6283 1819 That the trade of Ireland has not decreased since the peace of 1814, is evident from the following table Inwards. Irish. British. Foreign. Ships. Tons. Men. Ships. Tons. Men. Ships. Tons. Men. 1815 1816 1817

2066 2314 2016

142,690 157,283 153,637

9282 10,175 9377

1815 1816 1817

1937 2187 1931

139,302 153,354 139,827

9118 9917 9058

7800 707,232 7984 693,107 7864 690,165 Outwards. 8690 693,422 7782 684,179 7200 641,205

40,379 39,921 39,696

296 501 323

54,755 92,474 68,674

2990 5037 3441

40,130 39,259 36,480

274 514 350

50,708 98,115 75,546

2617 5007 3633

The total gross Revetiue for the Year ending 5th JaRevenue, Expenditure, Debt. nuary 1817, the year previous to the Consolidation Revenue of The Revenue of Ireland is principally derived of the Exchequers, derived from the following branchIreland. from customs, excise, stamps, and post-office duties; es, amounted to and from assessed taxes on hearths, windows, houses, Customs, L. 2,082,043 carriages, servants, and horses. The income-tax Excise, 3,208,931 was never introduced into Ireland. Stamps, 611,709 By the treaty of Union between Great Britain and Post-office, 222,747 Ireland, the latter was bound, besides paying the inL. 6,125,430 terest of the debt contracted before that period, and other separate charges, to make good ^ths of the The total expence of collecting the various branches Expence of public expenditure of the empire. This proportion of the revenue of Ireland for the same year amount- collecting was soon found to be much too great for her means. ed to L. 1,014,342. The following is a statementtheRevenue* Notwithstanding a very great increase of taxation, of the rate per cent, at which this expence was inthe debt of Ireland increased so fast, that its interest curred, viz. for every L.100 paid into the Treasury generally amounted to about as much as, and fre- under the heads of quently exceeded, the total revenue of the country. Customs, \I rp, ., pfor p. xeise, . * wasofpaid In this situation, and as the only means of avoiding f Ihere expence collecta public bankruptcy, a proposition was submitted to S tamps, f inJ Parliament for the consolidation of the English and Post-office, j ® Irish Exchequers. This measure was carried into effect Separate Expenditure for the same Year in 1816. The debt of Ireland was incorporated with Expendi. L. 4,399,460 14 9-43 ture. that of Great Britain ; and, since the 5th of January Interest of debt, . 30,305 5 8 1817, the incumbrances, revenues, and expences of Charges of management, . 2,434,427 13 l3 the two countries have been blended together in one Sinking Fund, 126,500 0 0 mass. The produce of taxation in Ireland is now Interest on exchequer bills, considered merely as making a part of the general Issues for the separate service of Ireland, . . 3,836,869 16 3f income of the empire, without any regard to the arDo. for local purposes, . 43,690 12 2i bitrary proportion fixed in the treaty of Union. Joint Expenditure along with Great Britain. The following is a View of the Revenue and ExpendiCivil list, pensions, &c. ture of Ireland in different Years. 584,066 15 5| Payments in anticipation of exExpenditure. Permanent Revenue. chequer receipts, 35,523 15 Ordnance, 140,000 0 0 Gross Produce. Net Payment. 1792 L. 1,514,258 Army, 2,368,827 15 41 L. 1,805,964 7,201,231 1791 L. 1,184,684 1800 Miscellaneous services, 592,626 1800 3,445,718 2,805,536 1805 8,043,764 Vote of credit, arrear of 1815, 20,261 9i 1806 4,193,915 3,364,137 1810 9,348,476 1815 6,937,558 5,525,699 1815 13,326,433 Total, L. 14,612,560 6 4£

I R E L A N D.

108

The debt of Ireland, which, in 1800, amounted to about 25 millions, had increased in 1817 to about 152 millions, of which L. 141,441,180 was funded. OppressivePerhaps no country has suffered so much as Ireness of land from the oppressiveness of taxation. Since Taxation. 1808 taxes have been imposed in that country, which our finance ministers estimated would produce three and a half millions. In point of fact, however, they have not produced a single shilling. The nett revenue of Ireland in 1808 amounted to L. 4,417,990, while, in 1820, it only amounted to L. 3,605,446, being a decrease of L. 812,544. This fact affords a striking illustration of the folly of endeavouring to raise an additional revenue from an impoverished and exhausted country by a mere increase of taxation. Had Government made any vigorous effort to stimulate the dormant energies of the people, to give them a taste for the comforts and luxuries of civilized life, or to remove the most obvious of those causes of irritation and idleness which have so long distracted and depressed one of the finest countries in the world, the result would have been very different. But they contented themselves with adding to burdens which were already too heavy to be borne. The necessary consequences followed ; consumption was diminished, the revenue declined, and all classes have been sunk deeper in the abyss of poverty and misery. Public Schools and Charities. Schools and Notwithstanding the universal ignorance of the Charities. Irish poor, the means of education, within their reach, are by no means inconsiderable. It appears from the reports of the Parliamentary Commissioners, who have inquired into this interesting subject, that “ there are 33 classical endowed schools in Ireland, besides 14 of private foundation, which educate nearly 1000 scholars: that, exclusive of parish schools in the city of Dublin, and in other places, supported by private endowments, amounting in number to 72, there are 44 public establishments for the education of the lower orders, in which 4200 children are lodged, maintained, clothed, and educated. The annual expence of these establishments is about L. 70,000.” {Report of Commissioners on Education.') The following returns, as to the number of schools actually taught, have been obtained from 17 out of the 22 dioceses into which Ireland is divided.

Dioceses.

Ardagh Clogher Cashel and Emly Cork and Ross Cloyne Dromore

Number Number ofSchools ofSchools kept by kept by Masters Masters who are who are Protest- Catholics. ants. 21 120 31 78 36 105

104 221 191 103 143 44

Number of Scholars who are Protestants.

Number of Scholars who are Catholics.

4310 1068 5702 5588 746 10,815 2082 5401 952 9347 1710 3806

Dioceses.

Number Number pfSchools ofSchools Number kept by kept by of SchoMasters Masters lars who who are who are are ProProtest- Catholics. testants. ants.

Ireland, Number of Scholars who are Catholics.

Clonfert and Kilmacduagh . 7 Down and Connor 286 Derry 154 Elphin 23 Leighlin 46 Ferns 53 Killaloe & Kilfinora 43 36 Kilmore Meath 91 Ossory 19 73 Raphoe 23 Tuam Waterford&Lismore 26

2741 61 233 90 10,260 3619 136 5835 3275 1101 4651 110 1421 7691 144 9635 2406 161 1435 10,077 176 2034 113 4059 231 2195 12,225 2841 64 299 2381 1878 72 6972 142 633 1001 10,162 159

127J

2465 45,590 116,977

Total

From these retvirns, it appears that, exclusive of the charitable foundations, the number of children taught in these dioceses amounts to 200,000; that the schools of the two religions are 4600; and that there are, at an average, 43 scholars to a school. As these returns were made in winter, when many children cannot attend, and do not, besides, include the itinerant schoolmasters, it is probable, that the total number of children taught is more considerable. The instruction, except in a very few instances, goes no farther than reading, writing, and the common rules of arithmetic; and the fees paid, on an average, are 10s. per annum for reading, 17s. 4d. when writing, and L. 1, 6s. when arithmetic is added. {\Mh Report of Commissioners on Education.') These facts prove, that the means of education are afforded to the labouring poor; but they by no means show, that the people gain any useful information, or are at all advanced in the scale of moral beings, by this instruction ; nor do they supersede the necessity of a national establishment comprehending every parish in the island. Ireland has no poor’s rate; but in its principal cities a variety of most extensive charities are established. Many of them are maintained by the charity of individuals, and others by the munificence of government. The following is a statement of the sums granted by the British government in the year 1818 to some of the principal charities and public establishments of the country. Protestant Charter Schools, L. 38,331 Foundling Hospital, 32,515 House of Industry, 36,640 Richmond Lunatic Asylum, 7,085 Fever expences, 12,000 Police of Dublin, 26,600 Westmoreland Lock Hospital, 8,307 Dublin Society, _ . . 9,230 Society for Educating the Poor, 5,538

Ireland.

i

I R EL AND. 109 Chap. II. prime of life, is not perceived amidst the multitudes Ireland, General Observations on the Condition of the People, who remain. Every employment is still thronged to excess ; and the departure of those who emigrate and the Causes of their Depressed State. 1 etai ds 1 ather than accelerates the progress of wealth; ' All travellers who have inquired into the condi- for those who go have all acquired some little cation of Ireland, unite in representing the redundance pital, and habits of industry, the subduction of which of the population as the main source of the suffer- dries up the springs of national prosperity. ings of the people. * One cannot pass through a The actual population in 1805 has been estimated, single county, without perceiving the most grievous by Mr Newenham, at 5,400,000 souls. Mr Wakeeffects resulting from this cause. In every town, in field, after demonstrating, that, in 179E it amounted every village, there are multitudes of beggars, whose to 4,200,000, observes, that, since that period, a veimportunity testifies the need they have of assistance, ry great increase has taken place. (Wakefield, II. while their famished and anxious aspect marks, in /12.) The rate of increase has been estimated by language not to be misunderstood, the anguish and Mr Newenham and Mr \\ akefield at an annual adsuffering to which they have been subjected. Ihe dition of one-forty-sixth to the whole popularich may exclaim against the impositions of the poor, tion ; in other words, the numbers of the people and refuse charity to a hundred real objects of dis- double in forty-six years. (Newenham, 220. Coltress, because two or three have magnified their quhoun, 21.) Thirty years ago, Mr Young expresssufferings; but whoever will scrutinize the condi- ed his astonishment at the prevalence of early martion and appearance of the Irish poor will be con- riages in this country. (Young, II. 198.) Mr Newvinced, that their miseries can hardly be exagge- enham and Mr \Y akefield have reiterated the same rated. observation in their late publications. Every road Nor is it merely in the incredible numbers, the with cottages, every cottage swarms with incessant importunity, and deplorable aspect of the children. Under circumstances of unexampled disIrish beggars, that the superabundance of the po- tress during the last three years, the number of pulation appears. It is an evil which is felt in every marriages and the multitudes of children have sufoccupation, and in every corner of the land. In fered no diminution. every line of life, in every branch of industry, there As might be expected in a country where the inis an excessive competition for employment. If a crease in the numbers of mankind has so far outsmall farm is to be let, the landlord is beset by num- stripped the progress ot its wealth and the increase bers of persons wishing to take it; and who, in their of its industry, the condition of the people is in anxiety to fix themselves somewhere, offer the exorbi- every department marked by extreme indigence. tant rent of L. 3, L. 4, and even L. 5 per Irish acre (Dewar, 91; Young, II. 123.) The houses in which for land, which, under their system of management, they dwell, the furniture in their interior, their clothwill hardly produce this sum. It is from this cause ing, food, and general way of life, all equally indithat the number of Cottars is so inconceivably great, cate the poverty of the country. In these respects, and that such high rents are given for the smallest however, some improvement was observable, even pieces of potatoe land. In every other employment at the time when Mr T oung’s 'Pour was written, the same symptoms of a redundant population ap- and it has gone on increasing to a certain extent pear ; and it is well known in the adjoining coun- since that period. In the south of Ireland, the tries of England and Scotland, that wherever any cottages have, in many instances, feather-beds; a public work is undertaken, there is almost instantly luxury which they owe to the numbers of geese and an inundation of Irish poor, seeking that employ- poultry with wTiich the country abounds,—a plenty ment which they cannot obtain at home. which, in some degree, compensates to them for the Emigration, as might be expected, prevails, and many other privations to which they are subject. has long prevailed, to a great extent in Ireland; but Considerable improvement in the condition of the it has been unable to retard the progress of popu- peasantry was beginning to take place in the south lation. Between the years 1690 and 1745, it is towards the conclusion of the wrar, in consequence computed that 450,000 Irishmen perished in the of the immense market and high prices which the service of France alone. (Newenham’s Ireland, 58.) consumption of the army and navy afforded; but Every nation almost of Europe has Irishmen in its these dawnings of prosperity have been almost toservice; and, independently of the vast swarms which tally ovei clouded by the distress of the last years. continually come over to Britain, upwards of 4000 It appears from evidence laid before a Commithave annually, for a long period back, emigrated to tee of the House of Commons, that, in the year America. {Ibid. 59-) During the year 1816, when 1817, there were in Nicolson’s Court, Dublin, 151 the distress of the country was very great, the persons crowded into 28 small rooms; of these 89 emigrants to America swelled to the enormous were unemployed, and there were only two bedsteads number of 30,000. (Newenham, 59; Wakefield, and two blankets in the whole Court. In Barrack II. 712.) But this drain, great as it undoubted- Street were 85 houses, the apartments in which ly is, and materially as it must affect the popula- were extremely crowded: 52 houses contained, in tion, from being composed entirely of persons in the 390 rooms, 1318 persons, of whom 332 were adults * Young’s Ireland, II. 197; Dewar’s h eland, 94 ; Newenham, passim ; Wakefield, passim.

110 1 R E I Ireland, out of employment, the greater part of whom were "V-*-'' in extreme indigence. Church Street contained 181 houses, which were greatly more crowded than in Barrack Street In 71 houses of this street, and the adjoining courts, no less than 1997 persons were lodged in 393 apartments; of these 123 had been infected by fever within three months. There are many cellars in these houses which have no light but from the door, which, in several, is closed only by bundles of rags, vegetables, and other articles. In these cellars the people sleep on the floors, which are all earthen. The dress of the people is so wretched, that, to a person who has not visited the country, it is almost inconceivable. Shoes or stockings are seldom to be seen on children, and often not on grown persons. ( Toung, II. 121.) The rags in which both men and women are clothed are so worn and complicated, that it is hardly possible to imagine to what article of dress they have originally belonged. It has been observed that the Irish poor never take off their clothes when they go to bed; but the fact is, that not only are they ill general destitute of blankets, but, if they once took off their clothes, it would be difficult to get them on again. Their dress is wrorn day and night till it literally falls to pieces ; and, even when it is first put on, it is usually cast-off clothing; for there is not one cottager out of ten who ever gets a coat made for himself. A considerable trade has long been carried on from the west of Scotland to Ireland, consisting of the old clothes of the former country, and to those who know how long all ranks in Scotland wear their dress, there is no more convincing proof of the poverty of the latter country can be given. In England, markets and shops are established in every quarter, where the people may buy their necessaries and conveniences. In Ireland there is neither the one nor the other. The Irish poor, indeed, have no conception of the comforts of life; and if they felt their full value, they could not afford them, for though necessaries are cheap, conveniences of all sorts are very dear. Owing to the deficiency of manufacturing capital, the price of the commonest articles is fully as high as in Britain,

AND. while the money wages of labour are not equal to Ireland, half the earnings of the English labourer; being in general from 8d. to Is. 2d.; a sum altogether inadequate to obtain any portion of the comforts of life.* (Newenham, 272, 273.) But while the Irish poor are in general destitute of all the accommodations, they hardly ever, except in years of extraordinary distress, know what it is to want the absolute necessaries of life. The unsparing meal of potatoes, at which the beggar, the pig, the dog, the poultry, and the children, seem equally welcome, seldom fails the Irish labourer. In many cottages, the potatoe pot is constantly on the fire, and the children help themselves when they please (Young, II. 121); and to this cause, joined to the general use of milk, is to be ascribed the healthy appearance of the children in cottages which would seem to be the abode of the most abject misery. The laziness of the lower Irish is very great. (Wakefield, II. 776.) In many places it is so excessive, that two shillings a-day in England would be cheaper in the end than sixpence in Ireland. (Young, II. 117.) This cannot be imputed to their potatoe diet, for there are numerous instances of persevering industry in Ireland. It is owing to the habits, the mode of payment, and the occupations of the labouring classes. Limited as their wants are to the mere support of animal life, they do not engage in labour with that persevering industry which artificial desires inspire; and the mode in which they are often paid, that is, the giving them a piece of potatoe land by the year, at once furnishes the means of subsistence, and takes away every stimulus to farther exertion. The farm-servants of the English or Scotch farmers, wrho carry on agriculture upon the improved system, are constantly employed in some species of labour ; but after the potatoes of the Irish cottar are planted, there is hardly any thing to be done about his little croft till the season of digging arrives. During a great portion of the year he is doomed to idleness, and the habits he acquires during these long periods of almost total inaction, are too strong to be overcome when he is transferred to a more regular occupation.

* There is no person who has visited Ireland who must not be convinced that, generally speaking, these observations are strictly true. But, though the general aspect of the country is that of poverty and wretchedness, yet there are particular districts in which the progress of improvement has been so rapid and striking as to afford the most animating prospects; and even over the whole country, the increased consumption of articles of comfort, during the last twenty years, is very remarkable. “ That Ireland,” says Wakefield, “has made a wonderful progress in improvement, will not, I think, be denied by the gloomiest politician. In the neighbourhood of Belfast, this change has been peculiarly striking. This town, which, about a century ago, hardly deserved notice, is now, in trade and consequence, the fifth in the kingdom ; hundreds, whose food consisted chiefly of potatoes, now use wheaten bread; thousands sleep in blankets and sheets who were formerly contented with a covering of straw. Having been frequently in Ireland during the last thirty years, my own observation has convinced me that a considerable change of habits has taken place, and that a taste for a more refined mode of life is beginning to diffuse itself among the people.” (Wakefield, II. 65.) From the official return of the imports into Ireland from 1772 down to 1811, it appears that a prodigious increase in the consumption of articles of luxury has taken place in that period; far greater than the augmentation during the same time in the numbers of the people. {Ibid. 1 II. 58.)

I R E I Ireland. Such is the condition of the Labouring classes. Ireland exhibits the extraordinary example of a country, in which, under the most distressing circumstances, population has advanced with the most rapid pace; in which cultivation has advanced without wealth, and education without diffusing knowledge; where the peasantry are more depressed, and yet can obtain subsistence with greater facility, than in any other country of Europe. Their miserable condition will not appear surprising when the numerous oppressions to which they are subject are taken into consideration. In the foremost rank of their many grievances, the general prevalence of Middlemen must be placed. It is difficult to estimate the extent of the misery which the system of letting and subletting land has brought upon the Irish cultivators. It has been observed, that the great cause of the prosperous situation of the peasant in Japan, is, that he pays his rent at once to the sovereign; that no person is substituted between the cultivator of the ground and the great landholder. (Thunberg’s Travels.) With truth it may be said, that one great cause of the misery of the Irish peasant is to be found in the number of persons who are interposed between the landlord and the cultivator ; for the whole fruits of their labour finds its way into the pockets of this middle class. (Wakefield, I. 287.) To absent landholders, middlemen are almost unavoidable; for without their intervention their estates could not be managed, and the collection of rents would be impossible. Middlemen have, in every country, been the inseparable attendants of absent proprietors : and in such a country as Ireland, where there are numbers of disaffected persons in every quarter, the vigilant eye of a superior inspector is more particularly required. By the law of England, the landlord is entitled to distrain for payment of rent, not only the stocking which belongs to his immediate tenant, but the crop or stocking of a subtenant; on the principle, that whatever grows on the soil ought to be a security to the landlord for his rent; and in Scotland the same rule holds where the landlord has not authorized the subtack; but if he has, the subtenant is free when he has paid to the principal tenant. There is little hardship in such a rule in England, where the practice of subletting is, generally speaking, rare ; but when applied to Ireland, where middlemen are universal, it becomes the source of infinite injustice; for the cultivator being liable to have his crop and stocking distrained on account of the tenant from whom he holds, and there being often many tenants interposed between him and the landlord, he is thus perpetually liable to be distrained for arrears not his own. The tenant, in a word, can never be secure, though he has faithfully paid his rent to his immediate superior; because, he is still liable to have every thing which he has in the world swept off by an execution for arrears due by any of the many leaseholders who may be interposed between him and the landlord. It is obvious that such a system must prevent the growth of agricultural capital. This, joined to the exactions of the middle-

AND. in men, has been the true cause of the universal preva- Ireland, lence of the cottage system, and the minute subdivi- ^ ^ sion of farms. The mode in which the poorer classes are treated is strongly descriptive of their depressed situation. “ The labouring poor,” says Mr Young, “ are treated with great harshness, and are in every respect so little considered, that their want of importance seems a perfect contrast to their situation in England, where, comparatively speaking, they reign as sovereigns. The landlord of an Irish estate, inhabited by Roman Catholics, is a despot, who yields obedience, in whatever concerns the poor, to no law but his own will. The language of the law may be that of liberty, but the situation of the poor may speak nothing but slavery. There is too much of this contradiction in Ireland. A long series of oppressions, aided by many very ill judged laws, have brought landlords into a habit of exerting a very lofty superiority, and their vassals into that of unlimited submission. Speaking a language which is despised, professing a religion which is abhorred, and being disarmed, the poor find themselves in many cases slaves, even in the bosom of written liberty.” (Young, II. 127.) In England, the Tithes can hardly be said, in a national point of view, to amount to a grievance. The precarious situation of the clergyman, possessing only a life interest in the benefice, joined to the wealth and consequence of the farmers and landholders by whom he is surrounded, precludes him, in the general case, from exerting his rights to their full extent, and softens the evil which the abstract powers with which he is invested might otherwise produce. But, in Ireland, the case is far otherwise. The relative situation of the farmer and of the clergyman are totally different, and a very different system in regard to the collection of tithes is pursued. The clergyman is, in general, far richer than any farmer in his parish; and he is connected with the Protestant interest, which has so long exercised an unlimited sway. Independently of the extreme poverty of the farmers, the livings in Ireland are, in general, much larger, and more lucrative than in England; so that the relative situation of the clergyman and his parishioners is totally different in the two countries. From the wealth and influence of the clergy, joined to the destitute situation of their parishioners, the tithes have long been collected with a severity, of which hardly any European state furnishes an example. They fall, by the law of that country, only on the tillage land, the greater part of which is held by cottar tenants; and thus the rich are exempted from bearing their share of the burden. (Wakefield, II. 486.) Almost everywhere the tithes are let to Tithe Proctors, who are acquainted with every man in the parish, who know the utmost length to which extortion can go, and exercise their powers with the most merciless severity. These proctors, besides what they pay to the clergyman or lay-improprietor, realize large incomes to themselves out of the produce of their extortions When it is recollected, what savage ferocity has always been exercised towards these collectors in

IRELAND. 112 Ireland, every commotion, it may be conceived how deeply the fine imposed upon a toAvnship, for having had Ireland, the misfortune to have a seizure for illicit distilla- ^ their severity has been felt. (Ibid. II. 486, 487.) What renders the tithing system peculiarly op- tion made within its bounds. Numerous are the pressive in Ireland is, that its exactions fall upon families which have been utterly ruined, in every cottars who give the full value of the land in the part of the country, by this most oppressive law. rent paid to the landlord. The number of the la- Many individuals are now languishing in prison who bouring classes is so great, and the other branches of have been seized for the fine imposed on their townindustry in comparison so inconsiderable, that the ship for an illicit still, of which they were utterly igunfortunate poor are driven to take little spots as norant, or which they may have made the most vitheir only means of subsistence. The competition gorous, though ineffectual, efforts to oppose. between them is so excessive, that they offer the From the facts collected by Mr Chichester (Chihighest possible rent for the land ; as much, indeed, chester on Still Fines) on this interesting subject, it as the whole produce is worth, after their own food appears, that during seven years, from 1809 to sumis deducted. The tithe is not considered by these mer 1816, thestill fines levied amounted to L. 356,925, unfortunate people; or if it is, they trust to the or L. 50,989 a-year; and the evidence of Sir John chapter of accidents for the means of paying it. Stewart before the House of Commons shows, that, But even if they had all the foresight of the Scotch from 1809 to 1815, L.26,825 has been levied upon peasant, they could not do otherwise; for having no the county of Tyrone alone, and, on the county of other means of living, and being too poor to emi- Donegall, L. 72,540. It appears, from the same grate, they are compelled to run against each other authority, that the stills are of such a nature as to for little farms; and of this competition the land- be generally incapable of discovery; that no provilords too often avail themselves to screw the rent sion is made for the case of absentees, who have, in to the highest possible rate which the poor can af- more than one instance, been ruined by fines levied ford to pay. (Wakefield, II. 493.) When the cup on their estates, while abroad on the service of their of misery is full, a drop will make it overflow. The country; that the power thus vested in the hands of tithes in Ireland are this drop. Inconsiderable as the revenue officers has been the occasion of infinite they are when compared Avith the burden which individual distress, as wrell as public discontent; and the tenants have to sustain in their rent, yet, when that the fines are levied, in general, by military force, placed in addition to it, they operate as the last and terminate in the utter ruin of the peasantry on and most grievous oppression with which they are whom they fall. afflicted. To this cause we are to impute the reThese evils have been attended with the usual demarkable fact, that while in Munster, where the tithe • pressing effects of oppression. They have prevent. of potatoes is exacted, frequent risings have occur- ed the growth of any artificial wants, or any desire red during the last forty years; in Ulster, where no of bettering their condition among the mass of the tithe is required, risings are unknown. (Wake- people. Despised by their superiors, and oppressed field, II. 493 ; Life of Lord Charlemont, 87, 88.) by all to whom they might naturally have looked for What increases the hardship of this burden upon protection, the Irish have felt only the natural inthe people is, that it is not only imposed to support stincts of their being. Among the Presbyterians of an establishment which they detest, which they the north, and in the vicinity of manufacturing consider as the badge of their national subjection, toAvns, higher notions of comfort may have imposed and which is so often negligent of its duty; but that some restraint on the principle of population; but it is an addition to a very expensive ecclesiastical the poor humiliated Catholics, enjoying no respectaestablishment of their own, which they are obliged bility or consideration in society, have sought only to support. The Irish Roman Catholic clergy, a nu- the means of subsistence; and finding, Avithout diffimerous and not indigent body, are supported entirely culty, potatoes, milk, and a hovel, have overspread by the contributions of the people ; and the greater the land with a Avretched race. part of the income of the Presbyterians in the north To these causes of a redundant population, of is derived from a similar source. On occasion of a which the government of the country is, directly or marriage, the priest receives from these poor people indirectly, the source, are to be added others, of a from two to three guineas; and the difficulty of different kind. raising this sum is perhaps the only check on the The first is the influence of the parish priests, who progress of population. (Newenham, p. 51.) From encourage marriage in order to increase their own this and other sources, the income of the Irish Ca- emoluments, and the superstition of the people, who tholic clergy is, except in years of extraordinary dis- regard it as a religious duty. (Wakefield, II. 690.) tress, very considerable; and this is a burden Avhich In a country Avhere the priests possess so much falls solely on the poorer classes. Thus are the Irish control over the lower ranks, and where the influpeasantry, who, of all nations in the world, are ence of artificial wants is so little felt, this circumthe least able to support it, burdened writh two se- stance must have a powerful effect. To this cause, parate ecclesiastical establishments, each of which joined to the degraded situation of the Catholic polevies its dues with the most rigid exactness; the pulation, is to be ascribed the much greater freone armed with the terrors of temporal authority, quency of marriages among the lower orders of that the other with the still more formidable weapons of persuasion than among the Protestants. (Ibid. II. superstition. 578.) Another grievance, though not so extensive, is The second cause is the general ignorance of the 12

H3 I RE L AND. Ireland, people. On the influence of education, in restraining The first is the extraordinary fertility of the coun- Ireland, the tendency to early and imprudent marriage, it try, and the small expence at which cultivation would be superfluous in this place to enlarge. It is a can be conducted. Ireland contains 20,437,000 mistake to imagine, however, that this almost univer- English acres, and of these above 13,000,000 are sal ignorance, of which so much has been said, by al- actually under tillage. The land does not require most every writer on the state of this country, is the any expensive mode of culture; on the contrary, result either of any inaptitude of the people to learn, it is in general so rich, that it will yield an alteror of any very remarkable deficiency in the means nate crop of wheat and potatoes for ever; and can of education. The Irish evince everywhere the be taken into cultivation at a very small expence. greatest anxiety for education, whenever the means Hut for this circumstance, the poverty of the Irish are afforded. In the remote mountains of Kerry, cottars, and the almost total want of agricultural schools are sometimes found in the wildest situations, capital, would have operated as a complete bar to a where rocks supply the place of desks and benches. numerous population. (Weld’s Killarney, 167*) The second is the introduction of the Potatoe and Nor are the means of education either limited or its singular adaptation to the soil of Ireland. That scanty. In every quarter of the country, schools this root furnishes food to the greater part of the are established, and the cottagers can, in general, Irish poor is universally known; but its effects in get their children instructed for five or six shillings expanding the means of human subsistence are not a-year, in reading, writing, and arithmetic. (Wake- sufficiently considered. The average produce of the field, II. 399.) In the dioceses of Cloyne and Itoss- kingdom is 82 barrels per acre, each barrel weighalme, there are 3l6 parochial schools, attended dur- mg 20 stone. This amounts to 22,9G0 pounds, ing the summer by 21,892 scholars. It may, in- which, divided by four to bring it to the solid deed, be affirmed, generally, that, in point of liter- nourishment of wheat, will be 5740 pounds. The ary attainments, the peasantry are greatly above average produce of an Irish acre of wheat is four the same class of men in England. (Newenham.) quarters, which, at 460 pounds to the quarter, is Yet it is strictly true, that the Irish are ignorant in 1840 pounds, not one-third of the solid nourishment the extreme. 1 he solution of this seeming paradox yielded by the same extent of potatoes. (Young, II. is to be found in the poverty of the people, the ab- 120.) Mr Newenham considers three pounds of surd books which are put into their hands, and the potatoes as equal to one of wheat; at this rate, want of religious instruction. the acre will yield four times as much nourishment The poverty of the people is so great, that after under the potatoe, as when cropped with w’heat. they have learned to read, they are in general unPotatoes have been introduced into every kingable to purchase any book, or they are bred up in dom of Europe as well as Ireland, but in no other employments where reading is difficult by reason of have they become the staple food of the poor. It is the continued labour in which they are engaged. the condition and habits of the people, as they are de(Wakefield, II. 398-9.) In fact, it is impossible that termined by political institutions, and other causes, knowledge can make any great progress in a coun- which fixes the standard of comfort and the age at try where the poverty of the people is so extreme, which they marry. The introduction of the potatoe, and w here they are content with the mere support by expanding the means of subsistence, removes to of life. In such circumstances, they necessarily a greater distance the ultimate check which the inwant both the means and the inclination to turn ability of raising an increase of food must impose their education to any good account. The books upon the multiplication of mankind; but taken by which are put into the hands of the children, so far itself, it has no tendency to make the population adfrom being such as are calculated to train them to vance faster than their comfort requires. It facilitates habits either of order, virtue, or self-restraint, are the multiplication of mankind, and increases the raprecisely the reverse; being legends of saints, or pidity with which population advances; but, unless histories of thieves, smugglers, and prostitutes, cal- the people are predisposed, from other causes, to culated to lead the youth of both sexes into every spe- press upon the means of subsistence, it has no tencies of violence and depravity! It has, accordingly, dency to augment their redundance. Under the been often observed, that the lower Irish, though government and political institutions of the Irish, educated, are utterly deficient in moral and religi- the population of the country would have beer! ous knowledge {Survey of Cork, 714 ; Wakefield, II. equally redundant, though much smaller than it nowr 404) ; and to this circumstance much of the violence is, if they had lived on oats or wheaten bread. The and cruelty which prevails among them is to be inti oduction of the potatoe may be the cause why ascribed. the population is now six in place of three millions': Various other circumstances have combined to but it is not the cause why, during the whole period multiply to a great degree the facilities of population, of this increase, the numbers of the people have and to expand, in this country, beyond almost any been greater than, under existing circumstances, other, the means of subsistence. could be comfortably maintained. (r. It VOL. V. PART I.

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114

IRON-MAKING. Iron- The first knowledge of Iron, it is not improbable. To produce a beneficial result, it is necessary to use Iron1 ^. Making. wag derived from the discovery of a meteoric mass ores rich in iron, and united with as small a dose of oxygen as possible. The ores are stratified, and ^ of this metal. Such mass, existing in a state of conDlS l?on siderable purity, and capable of being hammered covered with charcoal, which is from time to time into form, may have exposed the first rudiments of replaced as it becomes wasted by the progress of those valuable properties which have been applied combustion. The ores during the lower degrees of with so much ingenuity and labour to the advance- heat, and period of deoxydation, are sheltered as ment of human affairs. Tradition says that the dis- much as possible from contact with the air. When covery of iron took place in Greece, m conse- the metallic particles are developed, an increased quence of the accidental burning of a wood. This temperature is then necessary to unite the masses, is certainly a possible case, where there might hap- and then exposure to air facilitates the process of pen to exist on the surface masses of iron ore, welding. Lumps of the coalesced ore, impregnated a circumstance not very uncommon. Perhaps it with its earthy parts, and a portion of the iron in is a more probable conjecture to suppose that the state of scoria, are then taken from the furnace, the discovery may have taken place, and been and hammered into a rough bar called a bloom. This brought to a comparative state of perfection, in the is subsequently reheated and drawn into ploughprocess of converting wood into charcoal for do- shares, or other implements which may be wantmestic purposes. If the sylvan carboniser happen- ed. As the facility of the air-bloomery would depend ed to pursue his art in a forest, occupying the surin a great measure upon a steady and uniform curface of the mountain lime, abounding with ores of iron common to that formation, the casual introduc- rent of air, seasons would occur, and even insulated tion of masses of the ore in mixture with the cover- periods of the same operation, wherein the process ing matter of the fire would be unavoidable. In a would either not proceed at all, or with languor. fortunate moment, and under a happy conjuncture When the high temperature was necessary to comof circumstances, a lump might penetrate the ignited plete, by a union of masses, the result of the previfuel, a strong current of air might have arisen ous deoxydation, a falling off in the current of air while the woodman slept,—an unusual temperature would not only retard but destroy the economy of might thus have been excited,—and (though injuri- the process. Under such circumstances, during summer, or in hot climates, the invention of bellows ous to the result of his labours) iron might in this would be hailed as a powerful auxiliary to the airway have obtained its first artificial existence. Supposing a partial knowledge of its properties to have bloomery. Their application, at first, would most been derived from the meteoric mass, this would probably be confined to that part of the operation lead to its immediate application to similar purpos- necessary to produce the welding temperature, but es. The success of the experiment would, of course, experience and observation would soon lead to highdepend upon the quality of the product,—similari- er and more important advantages, which, in the ty of surface or polish, would, for a long time, most end, though they must have been the result of infilikely be the only properties in common to both,— nite labour and perseverance, amply compensated uniform malleability, and extension under the ham- for the additional expence of a bellows blower. The fera of the Blast-bloomery must indeed have Blastmer, could only result from a regularly constructed furnace, governed by long experience, and certain been the commencement of an important revolution bloomery in the art of iron-making. This will be better underestablished rules of process. Until the invention and use of bellows, the Air- stood by contrasting the principles in the two opeAir. bloomery. bloomery seems the only mode by which iron could rations respectively. In the Air-bloomery, the ore have been obtained. To say what was the first was, by means of the charcoal in contact deprived form or shape of this furnace is impossible. Such of its oxygen, and, as an inevitable consequence, furnaces have long since Ceased to exist in this aided by the increased temperature, passed into the country, and it is only by the remains of scoria, state of soft or ductile iron. In the Blast-bloomery, t in elevated situations, that their former existence not only was the ore deprived of its oxygen, but, may be inferred. Park represents the air-bloom ery by the higher and more uniform temperature ocof the Africans as a low conical structure, contain- casioned by the use of bellows, a union took place ing, within very narrow limits, the aperture for ad- between the iron of the ore and the charcoal of the mitting the air, and passing off the ignited gas. Air- fuel. This combination would immediately produce bloomeries are still in use in Spain, and on the shores fusibility; and crude, or cast-iron, or an imperfect of the Mediterranean, where the ores of Elba are steel, would first make its appearance in the early stages of the blast-bloomery. The soft and ductile worked to considerable extent. The rationale of this process is the deoxydation of preparation of iron, which resulted from the airthe ore, by means of the contact of heated charcoal. bloomery, would no longer appear, but become

I R O N-M Iron- mixed with a new and cr-ide species of the metal. Making, incapable of being hammered, and communicating to the more perfect product a deleterious quality,— the bellows would, in many instances, be laid aside, and their usefulness in the process denied, or at least doubted. Chance would discover to some smith, more intelligent than others, that, by frequent attempts in forging, the new metal was improved ; he would soon observe, or discover, that this additional process might be considerably abridged, by directing the nose of the bellows upon the metallic regulus, before it was, in the first instance, removed from the furnace. Thus a new form of furnace would be suggested, having for its object the complete fusion of the ores, and the separation of the iron from them in a fluid state. Hence eventually resulted the blast-bloomery, in its most perfect and expeditious form, making in one day as much iron as an air-bloomery could in a week, and in a manner more economical, whether the measured result in metal from the ores or the abridgment of labour are considered. The blast-bloomery of this country is still recollected by some very old men. Its form was either circular or square, its height from three to four feet. Previous to blowing, it was nearly filled with charcoal, then a charge of ore, over which was thrown a larger charge of charcoal. The blast was urged by means of bellows variously constructed. The ores were thus rapidly heated, and deoxygenated in the upper part of the furnace. As the ore descended and approached the blast, a portion of the fuel, by the increased temperature, united with the ore,— fusion ensued, and nearly the whole metallic contents were precipitated on the bottom of the furnace. The nose of the bellows was then inclined, and directed upon the surface of the molten mass,—combustion and a copious scorification ensued, which was removed from the furnace by repeated tapping. This operation was continued, and hastened by frequent stirring, till the remaining iron had, by an effectual decarbonization, passed into the state of soft or malleable iron. It was then broken into convenient masses, carried to the hammer, and formed, as in the bloomery, into blooms. In a more advanced and enlightened period the defects of the air-bloomery are many and striking. The cementation necessary to deoxydate the ore, previous to fusion, must have been, from the smallness of the furnace, partial and imperfect, and acquired at an immense sacrifice of fuel. The process was not, as in the modern blast-furnace, continuous; each charge, composed of a certain measure of charcoal and ore, was smelted, separated, and worked, before the furnace was filled for a renewed operation. When the charge of fuel happened to be in excess, which would sometimes be the case, the iron would imbibe an extra quantity of carbon, and be proportionally fusible; this would demand a prolonged action of the blast on the surface of the iron, and thus consume time in an unprofitable waste of the metal. The imperfection of the process may be pretty correctly estimated from the variety of slags, and the quantity of iron they contain. The Roman and Danes’ cinders now found, and which were the current production 4

A K I N G. 115 Iror of the blast-bloomery in remote ages, contain from y 25 to 55 per cent, of iron, and have, in the last three Making, hundred years, been extensively in use as ores, for the production of iron, in the blast-furnace. To the blast-bloomery, in the art of iron-making. Blastsucceeded a larger furnace, which is noAV known by furnace, the name of the Blast-furnace, and from the discovery of which, the Faundery and Forge, including the Finery, must have resulted. The vast advantages of this furnace arise from the continued action of reduction, a complete separation and recovery of all, or nearly all, the iron originally in the ore,—a greatly increased quantity in a given time,—and a lessened consumption of fuel in the manufacture. Unlike the imperfect reguli of the bloomery, the metal of the new furnace was fluid, could be collected and remain so for many hours in the bottom of the furnace, and then be run into channels formed in sand, —but in this state, from the extra dose of carbon, it did not possess any property fitting it for the hammer, or for rendering it capable of being formed into a bloom, without subsequent operation. The effect produced in the blast-bloomery, by directing the bellows upon the surface of the separated iron, most likely suggested the idea of a separate furnace, in which a similar operation might be performed, without any connection with the previous smelting. The latent but unerring operations of chemical causes, accidentally associated with a larger furnace, and the favourable proportions of ore to fuel, would produce a fluid metal, which, along with the scoria flowing unexpectedly from the furnace, might thus first exhibit iron under a new form of existence. This would directly lead to experiments in the bloomery, with a view to obtain uniform and regular results. In time it would be found out, that adding to the height and capacity of the furnace increased the fusibility of the iron, and produced it of sufficient fluidity to run from the furnace. This fact once ascertained, would open a new field of observation and experiment, and the dimensions of the furnace would only be limited by the sparing quantity of air, or blast, afforded by the imperfect bellows of the day. For a time this would be partially remedied by the use of a suspending medium in the furnace, since called boshes, but, in the end, the advantages of the large furnace would lead to an improved construction of bellows. The foot and hand blast bellows would give way to others moved by greater animal power, and these in their turn yield to larger bellows moved by the water-wheel. The power of a dozen bloomeries would be now concentrated in the new furnace,—convenience and locality to ore and fuel would be sacrificed to moving power, only to be obtained by the concurrence of water and fall. In tracing the art through the lapse of ages (during which no memorial of facts has been preserved relative to the progress of iron-making), it seems evident, that its first general establishment, under the system of bloomeries, must have been on elevated situations, for the purpose of obtaining a powerful current of air. After the invention of bellows and the blastbloomery, the art must have been carried into the plain,—every village and township where ore and

116 I R O N -M Iron- wood abounded would have its furnaces and smiths. Making, completion of the blast-furnace would once more remove the site of the manufacture, and the powerful blast of the new bellows, and the sturdy blows of the forge hammer, would, in the valley, supersede the more languid operations on the plain. It is difficult to ascertain the period of the introduction of the blast-furnace into this country. Even in Dean Forest, the most ancient iron-making district, there exist no facts to show when it was there introduced, nor does tradition in any way assist us in the' difficulty. In a publication of Dudley’s in the reign of James I., the blast-furnace and other improved branches of the iron trade are there spoken of as having been extensive, “ but now falling into decay, owing to the scarcity of wood.” The art of the founder seems, too, at this period, to have been extensively practised, and judging from specimens still in preservation, considerable taste and skill in carving and relief must have been practised by the model makers of that period; and we know the fact of England’s exporting, in the early part of Elizabeth’s reign, a considerable quantity of such heavy ordnance as was then in demand. The civil commotions, excited by the long and disastrous contentions of the houses of York and Lancaster, were most unfavourable to the introduction or improvement of the arts or manufactures. It is more than probable, the use of the blast-furnace was first known in the time of Henry VII. Whether it was a native or an imported discovery does not now appear. On examination, the sites of the first class of blast-furnaces are found to have been placed on small streams near their source. The supply of water for moving the bellows was, of course, confined to the winter months, and, according to the copiousness or permanency of the stream, the furnace would be kept blowing four, six, or eight months. In an age when the division of labour was little understood and less practised, the disadvantages of this partial supply was not so great as they at first sight appear. The summer months were employed in procuring a supply of charcoal and ore for the winter consumption, and the same class of labourers passed from the furnace to the mines, or to the woods, and practised writh equal facility their various callings. From the period above alluded to, up to the present time, the only improvement to be traced in the charcoal blast-furnace is the increased size, and corresponding increased powder of the blowing-machine. By the removal of the establishment from a solitary stream to a greater depth in the valley, where a larger portion of the drainage of the district had united, giving greater power and permanency of supply to the water-wheel, the weekly produce in iron has been increased from 10 to 25 and 30 tons ; and a furnace, under the improved system, has been kept in blast for three years together. In the plates which accompany this article will be found drawings of furnaces used in the time of James and Charles I., and in our own time. The former are proportioned from the hearth of one of the King’s furnaces, lately discovered in Dean Forest, and which

A K I N G. furnace has not been at work since the commence- Ironment of the Civil Wars. Making^ Although in tracing the progress of iron-making from the bloom ery to the blast-furnace, it is seen, that, in all cases, the great object to be obtained was soft or malleable iron, yet we see the career of improvement, as if resting in the completion of a furnace, for the purpose of making an entirely new species of iron, possessing (except in weight) no properties in common with the tough iron of the bloomeries. But in this, as in every department of manufactures and the arts, the division of labour and of process have proved the true road to excellence. The division of iron-making, by whomsoever invented, into two distinct processes, must, at the time, have been marked by great and permanent effects. The manufacture of crude iron in the blastfurnace, and its subsequent malleabilization in the refinery, being operations not at all connected with each other, could be let alone, or carried forward, as best suited the views of the iron-maker. One man might smelt, and another purchase his iron and refine it. In place of obtaining from the bloomery one-fourth and one-third of malleable iron from the ore, the blast-furnace revived and returned, in a manner strikingly perfect, the whole iron of the ore, though in a state of crudeness or brittleness: though this was afterwards subjected to a loss of 25 per cent, in passing through the refinery, still, on the whole, it may be properly estimated, that, by the invention of the blast-furnace and the refinery, nearly double the quantity of iron, from the same weight of ores, was brought to market. The difference between the scoria of the bloomery and the blast-furnace would be so striking and manifest, that comparison would be succeeded by experiment. When the former w'ere found to yield an abundant supply of iron by being smelted in the blast-furnace, a new species of property was created in the country. The spoil of the iron manufactures, from the time of the Romans downward, became at once, and for centuries, mines for the principal supply of the blast-furnace. Extensive proprietorships of Roman cinders (as they were called) were formed. Forests, covered with decayed oaks, were uprooted, and plains that had slept for ages under a great depth of soil, were unbared to pour forth their newly created treasures. In Dean Forest, it is computed, that nearly twenty furnaces, for a period of upwards of 300 years, were supplied chiefly with the bloomery cinders as a substitute for iron ore. These were used in the proportion of five-eighths of the whole charge, the remainder being made up of the calcareous ores from the mines of the mountain lime, and a portion of lean argillaceous and silliceous ironstones, accompanying the coal measures. Dudley says, that in his time there were in England 300* furnaces for the manufacture of pig-iron; that each had forty weeks supply of fuel, and made, while at work, fifteen tons weekly, making in all the incredible total of 180,000 tons annually; and this, too, at a time when he represents the trade as in a decaying state, from the failure of the supply of wood. Either his statement must have been un«

I R O N - M Iron- thinkingly exaggerated, or a great falling off in the Making, manufacture must have taken place in the next hundred years; for we have it on good authority, that some time before pit-coal became the fuel of the blast-furnace, about the year 1740, the following quantities were respectively made in the English and Welsh iron-making counties: Brecon, Glamorgan, Carmarthen, Cheshire, Denbigh, Derby, Gloster, Hereford, Hampshire, Kent, Monmouth, Nottingham, Salop, Stafford, Worcester, Sussex, Warwick, York,

Furnaces. 2 2 1 4 6 3 1 4 2 1 6 2 2 10 2 6

Tons. 600 400 100 1,700 550 800 2,850 1,350 200 400 900 200 2,000 1,000 700 1,400 700 1,400

59

17,350

Tons. cwt. qrs. Annual average quantity for each furnace, 294 1 1 Weekly average quantity for each furnace, 5 13 0 Progress Hitherto we have only spoken of the manufacture and present of iron in this country, as connected with the charcoal NIanufacture.

13

f WOod as the basi s of its

? . operations. The gradually increasing population of the country had converted to other purposes a great portion of these woodlands that had formerly supplied fuel for the furnaces, and a period had arrived, when either a substitute must be found, or the manufacture of iron cease to be one of the staples of the kingdom. From Dudley, we learn, that James I. had granted many patents in divers parts of the kingdom for the manufacture of iron with pit-coal; that the attempts had uniformly failed, except in his own case, in 1619, when he succeeded to the extent of three tons weekly. The same gentleman, applying in 1663 to Charles II. for another patent for the same object, states, that he had succeeded at one time in making to the extent of seven tons of coke pig-iron weekly. But it was not till about the year 1750 that pit-coal became a general and profitable substitute for charcoal of wood in the blast-furnace. Subsequent experience shows the cause of this tardy advancement to have arisen from the want of a sufficiently powerful blowing apparatus. The introduction of the steamengine, and the consequent increase of iron now made, soon pointed out the deficiency under which all former experiments had been made with pit-coal. The incombustibility of coke, compared with charcoal, requires a more copious and powerful discharge

A K I N G. 117 of air, in order that it may perform profitably the Iro.nfunctions of smelting and carbonating the me- Making, tal. As soon as this was made evident, it not only stimulated the manufacturer to erect appropriate blowing apparatus for his coke pig furnace, but it led to an immediate improvement in the blowing machinery of the charcoal furnaces, still supplied with wood, so that, in 1788, about forty years after the collation of the foregoing table, we find the state of the charcoal pig-iron manufacture to be as follows : Glocestershire, Monmouthshire, Glamorgan sh ire, Carm arthen shire. Merionethshire, Salop, Derbyshire, Yorkshire, Westmoreland, Cumberland, Lancashire, Sussex,

Furnaces. 4 3 3 1 1 3 1 1 1 1 3 2 24

Tons. 650 700 600 400 400 600 300 600 400 300 700 150

Total. 2,600 2,100 1,800 400 400 1,800 300 600 400 300 2,100 300

making

13,100

Tons. cwt. qrs. Annual average produce from each furnace, 545 16 2 Do. of the former period (1740), 294 1 1 Annual increased produce in favour of the improved period, 251 15 Average weekly quantity produced in 1788, Do. in former period, 1740, -

l

10 9 3 5 13 0

Weekly increase in favour of the improvement, -

4 16

3

But, during the same period, it is evident, that an annual diminution of the manufacture of charcoal pig-iron was experienced to the extent of 4250 tons, attributable to the decrease of wood, and consequently the use of coke pig-iron as a substitute. This deficiency was, however, amply compensated by the rapid increase of the manufacture of coke pig, as proved by the following statements: Cote Pig Furnaces in England and Wales, in 1788. Salop, Staffordshire, Cheshire, Derbyshire, Yorkshire, Cumberland, Glamorganshire, Breconshire, Stafford, about to blow

Furnaces. Tons each. 21 1100 6 750 1 600 7 600 6 750 1 700 6 1100 2 800 3 800 53

Total. 23,100 4,500 600 4,200 4,500 700 6,600 1,600 2,400 48,200

118 IronMaking.

IRON-MAKING. Tons. building in England and Wales 40 additional fur- Iron48,200 naces, and in Scotland 7, the collective manufac- flaking, Brought forward. Tons. cwt. ture of which was computed at upwards of 170,000 Average annual produce, 907 0 tons annually. Nor did the trade, at this period, beDo. weekly do. 17 9 come stationary. Its unexampled increase and proAnnual manufacture, at the same period, sperity attracted the cupidity of the minister of the 13,100 day ; and it was reserved for a popular administraof charcoal iron. In the year 1788, there were erected, and tion to fail in a financial speculation, which, if carblowing in Scotland, the following furried, was to cripple one of the main-springs of nanaces : tional prosperity. In 1806, a bill was brought into Furnaces. Tons. Parliament, having for its object a tax of L. 2 a ton Goatfield, 1 700 on all pig-iron made, and of placing the manufacBunawe, 1 700 1,400 ture itself under the supervision of the excise. The 4,000 bill itself was an anomaly in legislation, and, though Coke pig-furnaces, Carron, 4 1000 Wilsontown, 2 800 1,600 armed with powers and clauses in abundance, could not possibly have been acted upon. It was framed in utter ignorance of the nature or details of the In Britain, total quantity in 1788, 68,300 manufacture, and contributed much by its absurdity Do. in 1740, 17,350 to the failure of the cause it was intended to supThe union necessary to oppose the bill with Annual increase of pig-iron, 50,950 port. effect produced a new series of facts, regarding the and progress of the iron trade in the kingAbout the year 1796, Mr Pitt had it in contem- extent dom, showing at that time its annual amount of plation to add to the revenue, by a tax upon coal at product to be at least 250,000 tons. Since that pethe pit. This, of course, led to a powerful opposi- riod, the manufacture has gone on increasing; and, tion on the part of the manufacturing consumers, though subject to great depression in 1815 and 1816, particularly in the iron trade. A committee was has, during the last three years, resumed its former appointed, witnesses examined, facts collected, and activity. The manufacture of pig-iron, in Wales the measure abandoned, as being unwise and im- only, may be computed at, tons per annum, 150,000 practicable. The following table, while it exhibits Shropshire and Staffordshire, 180,000 an abstract of the facts collected, shows the rapid Yorkshire and Derbyshire, 50,000 progress of the iron trade in the course of the eight Scotland and other places, 20,000 previous years: Tons, 400,000 Num- Excise Re- Supposed ber of turn of Iron quantity Actual Having thus narrated the progress and increase of Process of Return. Counties. by the Furmade. the manufacture of pig-iron, we shall next describe, IronTrade. naces. as concisely as possible, the economy and order Making, of the process itself, both in the charcoal and Tons. Tons. Tons. 2,200 1,9581 cohe blast-furnace, as at this time practised. Plate 4,710 2 Chester, 5,144 4 3,000 2,034 LXXXIX. fig. 1. represents a charcoal-furnace of the Cumberland, 2,138 2,138 2,107 3 largest dimensions, blown by three iron cylinders, Derby, 380 moved by a water wheel, and so constructed as to be 2 380 380 Glocestershire, 2,850 blown at either side, or at the back through open2,850 2,529 5 Herefordshire, 22 21,984 21,987 17,947 ings called twyers. The furnace is filled with charYorkshire, . coal, which is gradually ignited to the top, when a 23 68,129 43,360 32,969 Shropshire, charge of ore is put in, with a proportion of flux, 28 45,994 42,606 35,485 Wales, 14 15,820 15,256 I3,210i along with a certain number of baskets of charcoal. Staffordshire, 1 The furnace is from time to time opened below, and 172f Sussex, 173 173 large bars of iron are introduced to serve as a temporary grate, through which the air may pass to the 104 167,321 133,950 108,793 whole body of materials in the furnace. By the The return from Scotland exhibited a list of 17 fur- time the ore reaches the bottom, a considerable temnaces, and an exact return of pig-iron manufac- perature has been excited, indicated by occasional tured, 16,086 tons. fusions and scintillations. These are the general signals for introducing the blast. The furnace is Making a whole annual quantity of 124,879 shut up in front by means of a stone called the damAnnual average produce from each furnace, which stone, and space is left between this and the frontalso includes the charcoal furnaces, 1032 stone or tymp, which is filled with sand. The twyer Annual average of 1788, including the charis then opened and the blast introduced. Entire fucoal furnaces, 800 sion commences. In a few hours the earthy matter of the ores accumulate in the state of glass, and are Increase tons, 232 allowed to flow out at the opening in front, between the dam and tymp-stone. In the mean time the In the six following years, there were built and iron, by its superior weight, falls to the bottom.

I R O N - M A KING. 119 Iron- where it is allowed to collect for twelve or eighteen in Derbyshire and in Yorkshire, the coke does not IronMaking, hours. The furnace is then tapped in an opening smelt above two-thirds its weight of ore. Again, Making, •^v^^left on one side of the dam-stone, and the metal some coals in coking yield 65 to 70 per cent., while flows along a channel made in sand, called the sow, others yield not more than 35. Hence a ton of iron into the moulds prepared for it in the pig-bed. The is made at some furnaces under three tons of coal, charge introduced from time to time as the smelting and at others eight or nine tons are required for the and reduction take place, is called the burden, and same purpose. This great variety in the fuel renthis burden varies considerably, and at different ders general rules of little or no avail; a few simple works materially, owing to the quality and richness principles, however, arising out of observation and of the ore. For many years past charcoal iron has experience, are understood and practised at all iron been made chiefly with the red hematitic ore of works. Lancashire, the uniform quality and richness of this The ironstones of this country, were they fused “ mine” rendering the operation of smelting a matter under the most favourable circumstances as to coke of greater certainty. Four large baskets, containing and blast, would not, without a mixture of lime or about ten bushels of charcoal, will smelt and carbo- limestone, afford a perfect result,—the glass or sconate the iron contained in four hundred weight of ria, from the excess of silex, would be languid and ore. With the necessary proportion of an argillace- tough, the iron would separate imperfectly, and its ous ironstone flux, this quantity will yield 2\ hun- quality be injured by combination with silicum, in dred weight of iron. In the neighbourhood of the absence of lime. The latter having a greater afDean Forest, the calcareous ores of that district have finity for silex than for iron, readily unites with the been superseded by the use of Lancashire ore, ex- former, and leaves the iron to the full action of the cept as a flux, for which purpose a lean carbonate of carbon, and, like all mixtures, forms a more fusible iron, much mixed with a sparry carbonate of lime, compound than either separately. This mixture of containing about 20 per cent, of iron, is used in the the earthy matter of the ores is called cinder, scoria, proportion of one-sixth to one-eighth of the ore. A or slag. In flowing it indicates, by its degree of charcoal furnace will consume from twenty-five to heat, colour, and fluidity, with the most accurate thirty thousand sacks in a year, each containing ele- precision, the quality of the iron accumulating in the ven to twelve bushels charcoal, the produce of at furnace. Lime, however essential to a proper flow least one hundred and twenty acres of woodland. of cinder from the furnace, is not primarily the cause If the wood replaces itself fully in twenty years, of change in the quality of the iron,—coke is the then twenty-four hundred acres of land would be powerful vital agent,—on its properly apportioned necessary to keep such a furnace at work.—Coke to quantity and its quality the whole result depends. manufacture the same quantity of iron is obtained In vain will it be to harmonise in quality and profrom less than half an acre of the Staffordshire main portion the other materials, if the proper quantity of coal. cokes be not present to reduce the charge into a proThe preparation of the coke blast-furnace is simi- per state of division, and to carbonate the iron to lar to that practised with the charcoal blast-furnace, such an extent as to pass the blast without oxydabut its workings and burdens are infinitely more va- tion. When the due proportion of lime and coke ried and complex than that of the latter, which, are present in the charge, the cinder flows from the from the uniform quality of wood charcoal and Lan- furnace, sometimes transparent, opaque, white, cashire ore, experience has reduced to a certainty in glassy, variously mixed with fine tints of blue, and every possible change and proportion arising from nearly free from oxyde of iron. The metal accomburden. In the coke furnace the case is widely dif- panying such a cinder is what is called carbonated, ferent ;—every new situation has, in the nature of or grey pig-iron. If a portion of the coke is withthe coal, and the quality of the ore, something novel drawn from the charge which gave out such results, and characteristic. The argillaceous ironstones ge- the cinder instantly changes to a brownish black, or nerally used, are not very various in point of rich- entirely black colour,—the iron parts with its carness ; few when roasted are under 35 per cent., and bon, becomes white in the fracture, deteriorated in equally few exceed 45 per cent., and their composi- the quality, and the whole operations of the furnace tion generally unite silex, lime, and clay. As it is become disordered. the convenient practice at most works to mix lean and rich ores together, so as to reach a common Having thus traced the general progress of the iron Manufacstandard of 40 per cent., there can be no material trade in Britain, commencing in a period of conjecture, ture of difference occasioned by the quantity of the iron used and from beginnings the most limited and rude, to a Bar-Iron, in the ore, the average produce of which may be state of most unexampled prosperity and national grancorrectly taken all over the kingdom at 37| per cent. deur, during which the object of the iron-maker had It was long considered a fair burden if the coke changed from the production of malleable iron, in carried, that is to say, smelted and carbonated the the first process, to that of crude iron, it is now iron contained in an equal weight of the ore—This necessary to retrace our steps, and pursue the subis now materially exceeded in Wales and in Stafford- ject as connected with the manufacture of malleable shire. At Blanavon, in the former, the coke smelts iron, or, as it is now called, bar iron. The advandouble its weight of ores, and in that principality tages produced by the inflection of the bellows pipe generally, it smelts 50 per cent, more ore than its in the blast-bloomery, as has already been noticed, own weight. The same thing takes place in Staf- most likely furnished the first idea of the refinery fordshire and in Shropshire; but at some furnaces furnace, or the discovery might have been purely

I R O N - M A K 1 N G. 120 IronIron> accidental. A piece of cast iron, by some unfore- the Continent of Fuirope. In this country, the use Maiun Malring. seeUj but p0SSible circumstance, formed in and tap- of the finery continued as the only means by which 8ped from the bloomery, would, by its novelty, iron could be profitably rendered malleable, until arouse curiosity and conjecture; and although, by some time after the introduction of pit coal in its masimple heating, it would not yield to the impression nufacture. When coke was first made use of in the of the hammer, yet, by a second fusion in a common blast-furnace, charcoal was still used in the common smithy fire, new properties would be developed, and refinery, for the decarbonization of the iron to be in the end, ductile iron would be obtained. It is made into bar iron; but it was found necessary to likely that, for a long time, these occasional runnings add another process to overcome the deterioration in from the bloomery would be considered as a species the quality of the coke pig-iron. The lumps formof waste, and from time to time worked up by the ed in the refinery were afterwards heated, and drawn common smith, while the bloomery performed its out into blooms, and these again into bars, according more extensive functions. As the smith became to the quality of the iron wanted. As charcoal bemore perfect in his art and manipulations, iron pro- came scarce, the manufacturer ventured to add, in duced in this way would be possessed of superior the refinery, a small portion of coke along with the strength and ductility, and would eventually obtain charcoal, endeavouring, in the after part of the maa preference in price and demand in the market. nipulations, to overcome the consequent deterioraThus a powerful inducement would be held out to tion of quality ; but, as charcoal was at last entirely the Bloomery proprietor, to increase, by direct expe- abandoned, and coke exclusively used, a considerriment, the quantity of cast iron, and to devise a me- able variation took place in the process. In place of thod by which it could be regularly made; nor forming the product of the refinery into lumps, would the manufacturer stop short till a furnace was which exposed very little surface when afterwards constructed, continuous in its operations, and regu- re-heated, the masses from the refinery were carried put under a heavy hammer, of four or five tons lar in its results, as to the production of cast or pig- and r iron. From that moment the refinery became a fur- w eight, and beat out into a ragged sort of plate, nace of the utmost importance to the iron trade. called stamp iron ; these were again broke, by meThe process here performed was bold and philoso- chanical force, into small pieces, and their qualities phical—nothing short of subjecting the most refrac- examined. Those pieces, little removed from the natory of all metals to a violent combustion could free ture of pig-iron, were called raw, and thrown aside it from an admixture which, but for this, must have to be refined. The perfect plates were built into remained a perpetual bar to its ductility. The open piles of 50 to 70 lbs. weight; and each pile was cavity of the furnace being filled with charcoal, a placed upon a tile stone, or fire clay plate, or incased fire, by means of the bellows pipe, more or less in- in a large rough sort of crucible, called a balling clined, was soon created; the cast iron of the fur- furnace pot. When a sufficient number of these nace was placed upon the burning fuel; in time it were in readiness, a batch was introduced into a melted, and, dropping in detail, passed before the large furnace, heated with flame of pit-coal. When current of air issuing from the bellowrs, and, deprived the temperature had been sufficiently raised to weld of its carbon, sunk under the level of the nose-pipe, the parts together, each ball or pile was removed having lost its fluidity, and become sufficiently coa- from the furnace in succession, by a pair of tongs, lesced. Iron bars were then introduced; the clot- carried to the hammer, and formed into a bloom, ted iron, broken into pieces, and brought a second being a short thick bar of iron. These blooms were or a third time up above the level of the blast, till a re-heated in a fire, called the chaff’ery, and put under sufficient refinement had taken place to enable it to a lighter and more active hammer, where they were stand the blows of the forge hammer. In this ope- drawn into their destined shape. A considerable waste of iron was in these various ration of refinement, or burning out the carbon, the iron entered into a complete state of combustion, processes sustained, amounting to ten or twelve hunand a considerable portion of it was converted into dred weight for every ton of bars that were finishscoria. The creation, management, and quantity of ed ; but the difference of the price of fuel compenthis scoria were matters essential to be understood, sated for this additional loss; and the necessity of and properly practised, both as to the quality of the the case, from the diminution of wood, and increased demand, had become imperious. The manufacture iron and the economy of the process. The quantity of iron wasted in this operation de- of bar iron remained subject to the stamping process pended upon the quality of the cast iron made use many years, and the quality of the iron so made waa of. If the iron was highly carbonated, an extra ten- strong, and generally tough ; but the tardy finish of dency to fusibility existed ; and a greater duration the hammer, and the arrangement of the whole, was of exposure to the blast w as necessary, to render the not calculated speedily to overcome quantity ; and iron tough and ductile. From 25 to 35 per cent, of it was considered a respectable establishment that the whole iron introduced w as, by this process, con- could turn out, in one week, twenty tons of bars fit verted into a glass of iron, containing from 45 to 50 for the market. Refineries could not be multiplied per cent. The operation in itself, compared with without an additional increase of blast; and this, in after events, was simple and expeditious, and the general, could not be done without additional steamquality of the iron good. It is by a similar process engines ; and, in short, the manufacture had become that the superior qualities of iron brought from apparently stationary, when the genius of Mr Cort Russia and Sweden are at this day manufactured; furnished the ardent minds of his countrymen with and the same mode is in general practice all over a new and interesting field for enterprise. When Mr 8

IRON-MAKING. Iron- Cort laid before the public his new plans, so inade- continues, at intervals, till the charge has subsided Making. quate was this country to the supply of its own de- into a thick clotted sort of fusion. The furnace, at mands, that it imported from Russia and Sweden this period, is reduced to its lowest temperature; the enormous quantity of 70,000 tons of bar-iron part of the furnace bars and fire are withdrawn, annually. The object of Mr Cort’s processes was and the damper nearly shut; the puddler keeps to convert into malleable iron, cast or pig-iron, by stirring and moving the iron, backwards and formeans of the flame of pit-coal in a common air fur- wards, which now begins to ferment and emit flashes nace ; and to form the result into bars by the use of of a bluish coloured flame (the carbon passing off in rollers in place of hammers. He made many experi- the state of carbonous oxyde). This operation is ments, and expended large sums of money, in the continued till these appearances pass oft', and till the progress of establishing his inventions ; but, so long iron becomes less clotted, and begins, in the lanas the various qualities of pig-iron only were the guage of the workman, to dry. His exertions are resubject of operation, the results in the puddling fur- doubled, and soon the whole charge is reduced to the nace (his invention) were uncertain, attended with state of the finest saw-dust; it is now said to be dry, waste, and unequal in quality. These obstacles and so totally free from cohesion, that it may be moved were at last removed by the operations of the coke- about like as much sand. At this stage of the operefinery, already alluded to. In refining grey or ration the grate bars are replaced; the fire repaired; fusible iron, it was in common practice to tap the the damper elevated ; and the heat is in consequence fusion, immediately upon its being smelted, into a increased, though gradually. The grains of iron flat-box. This plate of iron being so far refined, become tipt with a snowy whiteness, resembling the was again thrown up on the fire, and passed a se- welding of iron; they no longer repel each other, cond time before the blast. If still too fine to come but begin to adhere in small masses; these increase into “ nature” it was again put on the fire, to com- in size as the temperature of the furnace is raised. plete its decarbonization. Some of these plates being When the charge begins to xuork heavy, the puddler taken to the puddling furnace, were observed, in selects a nucleus, and rolls it over and over upon the working, to possess properties, both as to facility coalescing masses, till he has got it of the weight of and quality, very superior to the best pig-iron. It 60 or 70 lbs.; he then places this on the flame side then occurred that the finery ought to be employed, of the furnace, and anew he begins the operation of not as formerly, to refine the iron to the extent of balling; repeating this till the whole charge is ballmalleabilization, but merely to decarbonize it to a ed up. A heavy iron instrument, called a Dolly, is certain extent, and to fit it more properly for the then introduced into the furnace, and with this the operation of puddling. This gave rise to the very balls are in succession beat to give them more coheextensive practice of “ running out,” which gives sion in rolling. When properly heated, they are recomplete certainty to the puddling process. In this moved by tongs from the furnace, and slid along new refinery, or “ running out fire” the various iron plates to the rolling machine. Here the lumps qualities of pig-iron are, by the skill of the work- or balls are each, in succession, passed through rollman, mixed and reduced to a common standard, ers, grooved diagonally, acquiring, as they pass, adwhich is now called finer’s metal. By this means, ditional cohesion and firmness, and assuming the the operations of the puddler are rendered certain, form of a bloom. This is then presented to another and he can reckon, within a few minutes, the con- pair of rollers, with flat openings or grooves, and tinuation of his operation. In the commencement rolled into a bar of three or four inches in breadth, of this, as in all new things, much difficulty and and from half an inch to three-fourths of an inch in waste of iron was sustained, and only a limited thickness. The whole operation of rolling one of quantity overcome. The loss now, when the refine- the balls is performed in a minute and a-half, and ment is carried on in one fire to the extent of sixty pleases, while it astonishes the observer, by the rapid to eighty tons a-week, is estimated not to exceed change which is thus passed upon matter the most cwt. per ton, or 12J per cent. unshapely and refractory. The whole time taken The puddling furnace, for which the refined me- up to complete a charge from the puddling furnace tal is thus prepared, is, in its general form and ap- is only from two to two and a half hours; the loss pearance, not unlike a founder’s air furnace. It is sustained is from 10 to 12 per cent. One furnace heated by means of pit-coal, on a grate ; and, as may will discharge five or six heats in twelve hours, and be seen in the drawing, has a chimney of consider- make in one week from ten to twelve tons of rough able height, in which there is a damper, to regulate bars. A set of rollers, moved by a thirty horse the degree of heat while puddling. A considerable power, will rough down in a week 200 tons of such portion of the space between the grates and the iron, and keep twenty puddling furnaces at work, chimney is formed flat, and covered with a peculiar for which three or four refineries or running out fires sand, possessing the properties, when heated, of be- will be necessary. The material thus produced is coming very hard and infusible. On this space is called mill bars, and require another operation beplaced 3 or 31 cwts. of finer’s metal, and the flame fore they are finished. For this purpose they are carallowed to pass over it with the full force of the ried to a pair of large steel shears, and cut into regular furnace. In twenty minutes, the iron assumes a lengths, proportionate to the ^ar ultimately intendyellowish white colour, and marks of fusion appear ed to be made. These pieces are then piled on on the angles of the pieces; the puddler then turns each other in reference to the required thickness, up new surfaces to the flame, and keeps breaking as the cutting was to the requisite lengths, and ate those which have reached a softened state. This he introduced into the reheating furnace. A welding VOL. v. PART i. Q

121 IronMakin S-

»

IRON-MAKING. 122 Iron- heat, by the flame of pit coal, is here brought upon iron. If charcoal be added in proportion to the Iron, Making. them in the space of twenty minutes ; they are then, quantity, the iron becomes separated. As the iron Making, one by one, taken to another set of rollers, similar to separates, it forms itself into a small spherule, under the first, and in the diagonal grooves each pile is the glass. When charcoal is added in excess, that is, brought down to a certain size ; they are then put to the extent of one-fifth or one-seventh, the weight into \he finishing rollers, and rapidly formed into of the ore, three-fourths of the iron, will be found bars of the most perfect form, and most accurate revived. The deficient produce remains in the glass, dimensions. At one of the most perfect works in this or unites to the superfluous charcoal, forming a magor in any country, one bar of iron per minute is finish- netic carburet of iron. If there has been an excess ed for hours in succession, and one set of rollers have of clay in the ore, the glass will be found black, finished, in twelve hours, twenty tons of bar iron of opaque, and concave on the surface. If of silex, the most perfect form. This formerly would have deep bottle green, with brownish-coloured cells, been full work for a week in any large manufactory around the metallic button. If this experiment is repeated with one-third or of iron. Such has been the extension of the iron trade in this one-fourth the weight of the ore of lime, other cirkingdom, mainly owing to the great facility presented cumstances being alike, the carburet of iron will disby puddling and rolling. That the Cyfarthfa Iron appear, the glass will be found dense, comparatively Works alone manufacture annually double the quan- transparent, and the produce in iron greatly intity of pig and bar iron made in the whole kingdom creased. If the same ore alone was put into a crubetween the years 1740 and 1?50, and a quantity cible, mixed with carbonaceous matter in its texture, nearly equal to one half of the whole make as it stood or into one chiefly composed of black lead, fully oneso late as 1788. Several iron establishments, on a half the produce of the ore would be revived. Or, smaller scale, finish from 200 to 300 tons; and few if masses of the same ore were deoxydated by a prothere are which do not manufacture regularly 100 to longed cementation with charcoal, their subsequent 150 tons weekly. In South Wales alone, there are fusion, per se, even in a common crucible, would now made yearly upwards of 80,000 tons of bars ; yield five-eighths the whole iron contained in the and, in the whole kingdom, besides, nearly 120,000 ore; and, if fused in a black lead crucible, seventons more, making in all 200,000 tons. One of the eighths of the whole iron would be reduced to a meparamount advantages of the present system is the tallic state. When the first portions of iron are extracted from facility and cheapness of rolling. Iron of every possible size and form can now be obtained at the com- an ore, with a minor proportion of charcoal, the remon price of bars. The labour of the smith, in sulting globule is always in the state of soft or ducforging and drawing, are now almost unknown, and tile iron; as the dose of carbon is increased, the iron subsequently passes through various states of steel the price of his work proportionally reduced. It is painful to know that, incalculable as have and common crude iron ; and, if properly conducted, been, and are likely to be, the national advantages into that of the richest carburet of iron. The quanderived from the puddling process, which has given tity of reduction performed by the charcoal is variEngland the command of the markets of the world, ous at various stages. In the first place, all the charMr Cort, the inventor, after expending an ample coal is employed to unite with the oxygen, and a fortune in bringing the system to perfection, died, certain additional quantity beyond this must be used, and a respectable family survives, without having re- before iron is produced. After this the rate of received any public acknowledgment of his services, duction is increased, till more than one-half the iron is revived; it then falls oft*, upon the well-known or compensation for his losses. ground that the last portions are always most diffiIron Ores. cult to extract. Much larger doses of charcoal, in To comprehend fully the theory of the separation proportion, are necessary ; and it is essential to perof iron from its ores, it is necessary to examine and fect separation that not only all the oxygen be reoperate upon them in a smaller scale than that of ma- moved from the ores, but that the resulting iron itnufacture. Ores of iron are in general mixtures of self should take up a considerable portion of the caroxydes of iron with certain earths, in every possible bon so added. The table subjoined will more clearly proportion, which, if fused alone, without any addi- illustrate these hitherto unknown facts. tion, would be formed into glasses more or less dense, If a calcareous ore is subjected to fusion in a clay according to the quantity of iron they contained, crucible, it will melt with facility, in proportion to and in which no trace of metallic iron would be the quantity of iron united with the lime, and form found to exist. The simple principle, therefore, in a black shining lustrous glass. If charcoal is added, reduction, is to add a substance to which the oxygen the iron will separate; but if it is added in excess, will unite, in preference to remaining with the iron, the ore wall become refractory, and not melt. The and such other substances, with which the earthy same ore, thrown into a black lead crucible, will sink matters of the ore would combine, on the same down into a rough mass, without any separation of principle. Carbonaceous matter is found essential iron. If an argillaceous substance is added, fusion to perform the former part of this operation; and and a fine glass will ensue; and if a proper quantity opposing earths contrary to each other in their na- of charcoal is present, the same will be transparent. tures, are found sufficient for the latter. Thus, if a If the argillaceous earth is diminished without any common ironstone of this country is fused alone, in change in the charcoal, a pure white porcelain will a common clay crucible, the result is a black glass of be obtained over the iron, similar to, though much 11

I R O N Iron- more perfect than the cruddley or limy cinder of the Making. blast-furnace. The fusion of a siliceous ore of iron, per se, affords a highly polished shining glass of iron, the fracture of which frequently decomposes light. Oh the addition of charcoal, an imperfect ropy fusion is obtained. Ihe siliceous matter is then resolved into a deep brown or yellowish glass, streaked with glass of iron, and the separated iron thrown about the crucible in a state of small globules of a silvery colour, which are generally understood to be an alloy of iron and the metal of silex. When the silex exists in small quantities, compared with the oxyde of iron, as is the case with the Lancashire and Cumberland ores, the whole of the iron may be revived with charcoal alone, and the earthy matter remain unfused, but in an agglutinated state. Ores of iron are in themselves frequently united with such a mixture of earths, as to render, with the proper dose of carbon, the most transparent glasses, and iron of the most perfect quality. If the ores are rich, an inconveniency is sustained, by the metallic button being on its upper surface exposed without a covering of glass. This not only tends to decarbonate the iron, but, if in a state of ebullition, allows it to be projected against the sides and cover of the crucible, and makes the product difficult to ascertain. The following is a table or abstract of a set of experiments, made with a common blast-furnace ironstone, in which experiments, lime, deprived of its carbonic acid, predominated as a flux, but to which other substances were added, to prove their effect in facilitating or retarding, with the same or different proportions of charcoal, the reduction of the metal from the ore. The ore itself had been previously assayed for carbureted cast iron, and yielded 46 per cent. v I able of the Reduction (>f Ironstones. Weight of the Mixture Grains. j f Ironstone, [ Charcoal, 2 J Ironstone, Charcoal, Ironstone, \ Charcoal, 4 J Ironstone, (Charcoal, f Ironstone, 5 ■< Charcoal, (.Lime, f Ironstone, 6 -j Charcoal, (.Lime, f Ironstone, 7 ■< Charcoal, ( Lime,

200 j 10J 2001 20/ 200 V 30 ' 200' 40 ' 200 !0 100 200* 20 100JJ 200 30 100;}

Iron reGrs.of| s.ofl Parts vived for Grs-’of PerCent Iron each Iron age of ob- 100. Grain of in the Iron in tained Charcoal. Glass. the Glass 10

5

1.

51

25;

2.55

74

37

2.46

83

41 i 2.075 W

91 45.875

31

15|

1.55 61.

30.5

59

29J

1-96 33.

16.5

M A K I N G.

) Ironstone, Charcoal, ^ Lime, r Ironstone, 9 J Charcoal, y Lime, 5 Ironstone, Charcoal, ^ Lime, < Ironstone, 11 5 Charcoal, J Lime, r Ironstone, 12 3 Charcoal, / Lime, . s Ironstone, I Charcoal, 13 < Lime, / Fluat, s Ironstone, i Charcoal, 14 < Lime, . ^ Fluat, ^Ironstone, _ ) Charcoal, W Lime, ^Fluat, / Ironstone, I Charcoal, I6 \ Lime,. f Phosphat, rlronstone, J Charcoal, 17 Lime, Phosphat, Ironstone, Charcoal, 18 Lime, Phosphat, Ironstone, Charcoal, 19< Lime, Lynn sand, Ironstone, Charcoal, 20 i Lime, [ Lynn sand, r Ironstone, ) Charcoal, ^ j Lime, [ Lynn sand, r Ironstone, J Charcoal, Lime [ Flint, / Ironstone, 0 J Charcoal, Lime, ( Flint,

123

IRON-MAKING.

124 Weight of the Mixture Grains. Ironstone, Charcoal, Lime, Flint, Ironstone, Charcoal, 25 Lime, Window-glas Ironstone, Charcoal, 26 Lime, Window-glas Ironstone, Charcoal, 27 ' Lime, Window-glass, Ironstone, Charcoal, 28-( Lime, Bottle-glass, Ironstone, Charcoal, . 29 "S Lime, Bottle-glass, . {Ironstone, Charcoal, . Lime, Bottle-glass, . Plronstone, ) Charcoal, . 31 ) Lime, (Borax, .

Iron reW eight Grs. of Parts vived for Grs.of Per Cent, each Iron age of of the Iron in Mixture. ob- 100. Grain of in the Iron in Charcoal. Glass. the Glass. Grains. tained

Iron re Grs. of Parts vived for Grs of Percenteach Iron age of Iron in ob- 100. Grain of in the Iron in Charcoal Glass. the Glass. tained

200] 40 ! 100 ( 100 J 200] 40 V 100 f 25 J 200] 40 ( 100 f 50 J 200] 40 1 100 { 100 J 200] 40 100 25 200 40 100 r 50 J 200] 40 ( 100 r 100 200 'l 40 100 25

38] 1.91

88 83

411 2.07

80

40 2.

781 391 1.96

15g

7|

12

131

85

42 2.12

77

38

1.92

15

75

37

1.87

17

87

43 2.17

61

7}

f Ironstone, 32 J Charcoal, . '3 Lime, Borax, Ironstone, . 33 J Charcoal, Lime, Borax, Ironstone, c iarC0al 34 J | > • ° Lime, Muriat of Soda, i Ironstone, 7 Charcoal, SS )Lime, V Muriat of Soda, ( Ironstone, ) Charcoal, . , Lime, ( Muriat of Soda, P Ironstone, Qh. I Charcoal, 37 V Lime, ( Tartar, t Ironstone, ) Charcoal, 38 ' Lime, Tartar | Tartar, ( Ironsto Ironstone, 1 Charcoal, 39 \ Lime, ( Tartar,

200] 40 ( 100 f 50 J 200] 40 i 100 ( lOOj 200 40 100 25 200 , 40* 100/ 50) 200 i 40 ( 100 ( 100) 200 i 40 ( 100 ( 25 ) 200 40 100 50 200 40 100 100

84

42 2.10

91

2.27

86

43 2.15

6

81

40] 2.02

11

79

1-97

13

77

58 i 1-92

15

71

35] 1.77

21

10;

65

1.62

27

13

DESCRIPTION OF THE PLATES. Plate LXXXVIII. Fig. 1, Represents the section of an air-bloomery furnace, similar to that used by the Africans, as stated by Mr Park in his Travels. Fig. 2, A horizontal section of the same furnace across the openings, used for the admission of air, and discharging the furnace. Fig. 3, Represents a section of the old blastbloomery, with its bellows and lifters, which was universally used for the manufacture of malleable iron before the invention of the blast-furnace, and the discovery of the manufacture of pig-iron. Fig. 4, A ground plan of the same furnace, showing the bellows and blast pipes, and A, the opening which was regularly broken down at the end of each heat, to remove the bloom of iron from the bottom to the hammer. These bellows were worked in a very simple manner, without the assistance of levers, by a man alternately depressing the upper board of each, by merely treading thereon, which, in its turn, was again elevated by means of the lifter and counter weight. The stream of air, in this way, was prolonged with but little pause of interval.

Fig. 5, Is a section of the building, and interior of the charcoal blast-furnace, about the time of its first application for the purpose of making pig-iron. The remains of a furnace similarly constructed were accidentally discovered, in making an excavation, about eight years ago, in Dean Forest. This furnace, along with many others in ancient times, belonged to the Crown, were called Kings Furnaces, and were probably used for the purposes of smelting, with the cord-wood of the forest, the King’s share of the iron ore obtained from the mines. From its situation on the margin of a small stream, and the remains of the water course, the bellows must have been worked by means of a small water wheel. The height of this furnace, from A to B, judging by the dimensions of the hearth and boshes, which were found entire, could not have exceeded 20 feet. The height of the hearth, from A to C, 4 feet, and the height of the boshes, from C to D, 2| feet. The length of the hearth, from e, the back wall, toy; the front of the dam-stone, 4 feet. G, G. The lining, constructed of thin beds of an infusible species of sandstone.

IronMaking.

I R O N - M A K I N G. 125 Q, The cistern into which the water of the tue- Ir°nH, The hearth, composed of stronger beds of the same species of sandstone, called land-stone. irons empties itself. Making. Fig. 6? Is a section at right angles of that part of R, A reservoir for the supply of the tue-irons Fig. 5, comprising the’space from D to A, in which with cold water. S, The tue-iron pipe, which conveys a constant the letters correspond, showing the blowing orifice called the twyre, the twyre-arch, and the three cast stream of water to prevent the tue-irons from burniron bearers called “ sows," for supporting the ing. The tue-irons for this purpose being made double, leaving a hollow space all round for the same. Fig. 7, Is a horizontal section of the same fur- water. T, The nose-pipe, inflected for the purpose of nace at D, the top of the boshes, Figs. 5 and 6, showing the quadrangular form of the interior, discharging, when melted, a current of air upon the which was common to charcoal furnaces at that surface of the metal, to produce refinement or detime, and in which the letters of reference also cor- carbonization. U, The blast box, containing the valve for regurespond. This furnace was destroyed at the commence- lating the air. V, The blowing cylinder. ment of the civil commotions in the reign of Charles W, The blast pipes for conveying the air into the the First, and was never afterwards rebuilt. inverted water regulating cistern X. Y, Y, The space for the ascent and descent of the Plate LXXXIX. Fig. 1, Represents a section of one of the largest water, for restoring the equilibrium, giving smoothcharcoal furnaces, such as are now in use, and which ness to the motion of the engine, and rendering the current of air more equable throughout. is also applicable to the making of coke pig-iron. Fig. 6, Represents a ground plan of the blowing In this drawing the exterior building is omitted, and no more retained than is necessary to give a machinery, and two running-out-fires. Z, Z, The hearths in which the iron is melted and correct view of the interior of the furnace, and the refined. arrangement of the blowing apparatus. t, t, t, t. The water tue-irons, two of which are neFig. 2, Is a ground plan or horizontal section of the above furnace at the top of the twyre openings, cessary for each fire. The other letters of this plan correspond with those of Fig. 5. exhibiting A, A, A, the twyre arches. Fig. 7, An enlarged section of the water tue-iron, B, B, B, The blast pipes; the two dotted lines showing their communication with each other through with its pipes of supply and discharge, s and r. Fig. 8, End view of the above tue-iron, showing the pillars of the furnace, and with the blowing mathe two holes for receiving the pipes s and r, and chine. C, The fold, fauld, or working-arch, by which the the size of the blowing orifice at the smaller end. It hearth is approached, and the operations of work- is the same with that referred to under the letter t, ing, flowing the cinder, and tapping off the metal, are in Figs. 5 and 6. performed. Plate XC. D, A longitudinal view of the hearth from the Fig. 1, A section of a coke pig-iron furnace, with lack-’wall to the front of the dam stone. E, The dam stone, about eighteen inches high, its twyres and twyre-arches, similar to what are over which the cinder or scoria flows, and which at this present time used in South Wales, where closes up the front of the furnace, with the excep- upwards of one hundred tons of pig-iron have been tion of the space at f, called the tapping-hole. produced weekly from one furnace. The extreme This is opened from time to time to allow the height of this surface from the bottom at A, to metal to flow out. The letters in this plan cor- the filling place at B, is 50 feet. The height of respond with those in the perpendicular section. the hearth, from A to C, 8^ feet; from C to the top of the boshes at D, 8§ feet. The diameter of the Fig. i. Fig. 3, End view of the blowing machine, con- hearth, from A to C, increases from 3 feet to 3£ sisting of three cylinders, calculated to discharge feet. The extreme width at the top of the boshes the air both w^ays. The pistons are successively D, 18 feet. The diameter of the charging place, B, 6 feet. moved by means of three cast iron beams. E, E, E, E, The lining, composed of a double K, K, K, the three working beams (two of which only are seen), connected with a triple crank or lying circle of fire bricks, about 15 inches long, each, shaft, I, I, I. To this crank-shaft is attached a small with a space for an intermediate packing of sand. F, F, The hearth, constructed of large blocks of pinion wheel G, which is worked by the large spur breccia or plum-pudding stone, from over the mounwheel H, placed on the shaft of the water wheel. Fig. 4, Is a ground plan of the former, showing tain limestone measures. G, G, The twyres or openings, by which the blast the crank-shaft I. The tops of three blowing cylinders L, L, L, with the valve openings N, N, N, is discharged into the furnace. the main valve boxes and blast pipes M, M, M. The Cubic Feet. letters of reference correspond with those of Fig. 3. Contents of this furnace, . 5015 Fig 5, A view of a refinery furnace, or runningDitto, the large charcoal ditto, . 1017 out-fire, with its blowing apparatus. Ditto, small ditto, . . 428 O, The general appearance of the furnace. P, The front plate of the hearth, with the tapping Fig. 2, A view of a double power steam-engine holes. for the purpose of blowing furnaces, the steam cy-

126 A v

I R O N. M linder of which is 60 inches diameter, the blowing a in g- j cylinder 100 inches diameter; length of the stroke, r 9 feet; travels 12 double or 24 single strokes jjcr minute. Cubic Feet. Capacity of the blowing cylinder, 486| Quantity of air discharged at the rate of 24 cylinders per minute, . 11760 Density of the blast, 3 pounds per square inch.

A K I N G. D, The fly-wheel, of cast iron, 24 feet in diameter. IfOHE, rl he small spur-wheel for imparting motion to Making. F, F, F, 1 hree pinions, and their respective shafts, ’ to which the rollers, or cutters, are occasionally J coupled. G, G, G, G, The main cills, which are heavy masses of cast iron. H, 1 he puddling or roughing-rolls for compressing into regular form the balls of iron from puddling furnace. This engine is capable of blowing four furnaces at I, Rollers for finishing flat bars. the rate ot 3000 cubic feet of air per minute for K, Rollers for forming square bars of iron. each, and making from 250 to 280 tons of pig-iron L, Pinion and rollers for hoops or plate iron. weekly. M, Pinion and cutters for slitting rod iron. A, The steam cylinder. N, N, N, N, N, N, Roller and cutter cills made of B, The blowing cylinder. cast iron. C, The cold water cistern, with its ends taken off O, O, Eccentric wheels for working the cutting to show the air-pump p, and condensing cylinder s. sheers. P. (Fig. 2.) D, Thelever wall for supportingthe cast-iron beam. Fig. 2, An elevation of that part of Fig. 1, comE, The working beam and parallel motions to prising the crank-shaft, spur wheel, fly wheel, and which the steam and blowing piston rods are at- cutting sheers, P; the other letters correspond to tached. those in the ground plan. F, The steam cylinder pedestal of ashlar work. Fig. 3, An elevation of that part of Fig. 1, includG, The pedestal of the blowing cylinder, serving ing the small spur wheel, three adjoining pinions, also to load the air receiver, x, beneath. fly wheel, and main cill. The letters correspohd H, H, Spaces for the water to ascend when dis- with those of the plan. (Fig. 1.) placed by the compressed air within the inverted Fig. 5, Rollers for sheet, plate, or hoop iron. cistern, x. The difference of level, between the surFig. 13, An enlarged view of one of the roller face of the water in the interior and exterior of this housing frames, with the rollers, plummer blocks, cistern, when the engine is at work, will always be brasses, and adjusting screw, corresponding to l, in the ratio of the density of the blast. In this in- in Figs. 1 and 5, and Fig. 4, Plate XCII. stance, the surface of the outside water will be nearFig. 15, Ground plan of a water wheel bar iron ly seven feet higher than that of the water within forge, with two hammers and anvils. the regulating cistern. A, The water wheel and shaft. I, The branch blast pipe for communicating with B, Forge hammer, with a cast iron helve and supthe water regulator. ports, lifted by projecting pieces of cast iron, on the Fig. 3, A ground plan of the steam cylinder, pe- end of the water wheel shaft, called cams. destal, cold water cistern, air pump, condenser, and C, A forge hammer, with a wooden helve, lifted lever wall, the letters of which correspond with those by similar means. Only one of the hammers can be in the elevation. worked at a time, and the latter only when the moFig. 4, Is a ground plan of the blowing cylinder, tion is reversed, and in cases where, instead of the blast-pipes, pedestal, and water regulator. wTater wheel, a steam-engine is the moving power. K, K, K, K, Represent the openings or valve Fig. 17, An elevation of the forge (Fig. 15), • spaces in the top of the blowing cylinder, for ad- showing the water wheel, cam-ring, cams, standard^ mitting the air during the descent of the piston. A hammers, anvils, anvil blocks, and framing. similar number of these openings* with valves affixed, F, F, The anvil blocks and anvils. are placed in the bottom of the cylinder for admitG, The standard for supporting the end of the ting the air during the ascent of the piston. water wheel shaft. L, The blast box, containing the upper main valve H, The spring beam corresponding to Fig. 16, for preventing the return of the air during the de- Plate XCII. scending stroke. A similar box, containing the lowI, The cam-ring and cams. The other letters in er main valve, may be seen at L, in the elevation this figure correspond to those on the ground plan. (Fig. 3 ), for preventing the return of the air, during the ascending stroke. The other letters in this Plate XCII. figure correspond to those in the elevation. Fig. 4, An elevation of three different sets of rollers, with their pinions, housings, cills, and underPlate XCI. ground buildings. Fig. 1. A ground-plan of a mill for rolling vaa, Rollers for the extension of square bars. rious sorts of iron. b, Rollers for forming and finishing flat bars. A, The crank by which motion is communicated c, Rollers for making round or bolt iron. to the machine, when steam is the moving power. Fig. 6, An enlarged view of the rollers, pillar-bed, B, The large spur-wheel, the teeth of which work and pillars, with their screws, which are broken off into those of for the conveniency of the plate. This figure is the C, The pinion wheel, to the axis of which the rol- same as that of r, r, Fig. 1, in Plate XCI. and of ler pinions are coupled. r, r, in the centre rollers, Fig. 4, Plate XCII.

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134 Italy,

IT A L Y. may vie with any in Europe in elegance of form and the Martisan; and both canals are so managed as to Italy, beauty of design ; and at Teramo, in Abruzzo, there be emptied once a-year, for cleaning and repairs; >■— ^ is a considerable manufactory of pottery, which is the flood-gates being so nicely adapted, that all the sent into Germany by the way of Trieste. Tarento superfluous waters which descend in torrents from and Francavilla produce a sort of muslins greatly the mountains are let off with perfect security. In inferior, indeed, to those of England, but of some 1296, a law was passed which gave every one the consideration in that country. Upon the whole, power of carrying water across the public highways, silks and velvets are the staple manufacture of Italy, provided he erected stone bridges; and since that and in the various states of preparation employ more time the system of irrigation has been gradually hands than all its other manufactures put together. brought to such perfection, by means of little canals, There is one species of manufacture which, though branching off from the great ones, that there is now inconsiderable in point of value, is of infinite import- hardly a field to the eastward of the Tessino which is ance to a large proportion of the Tuscan population, not amply provided with water. that of straw bonnets, which is carried on universally Water is sold with as much accuracy as wine, at by the cottagers’ daughters in the vale of the Arno, so much the hour, half-hour, or quarter. The usual and is one principal cause of the well-being of the price of an hour per week is 1500 livres. (Young, peasantry in that delightful region. A good worker II. 168.) He who discovers a spring in his ground can earn from thirty to forty sous a-day. It brings has the property of it, and may conduct it where he an annual return of 3,000,000 francs, or L. 132,000 pleases, upon paying surface damages. These damaSterling, and this is entirely shared amongst the ges are all fixed by law. (Verri, 239.) Hence every young women by whom it is carried on. new spring that is discovered becomes the head of a little canal; and the activity shown in economizing the water so produced is truly admirable. In the MiCHAP. II. lanese, a stream twenty-two inches broad and two Agriculture.—In Lombardy—In Tuscany In the deep, and running from the 24th March to SeptemCampagna of Rome.—In the Campagna of Naples. ber 4th, will sell fbr 1000 livres. (Young, II. 177.) —State of the Peasantry in these different DisNor is it surprising that these great efforts are tricts. made for the diffusion of water over this plain. Such is the effect of irrigation, that land which, without The mode of cultivation pursued in the different it, will only yield six livres an acre, is raised, by provinces of Italy is as different as can well be ima- the application of water, to twenty livres. Grass gined in a country whose climate is nearly the same. fields, with an adequate supply of water, are mowed This difference arises from the entire difference of four or five times a-year. {Ibid.) The water is conthe soil, and natural productions in the mountain- veyed in little rills, planted on each side by willows, ous, from what obtains in the level districts of the allowed to grow only to a certain height; in many country. places vines cluster up these willows, and their Agriculture The great agricultural district of Italy is the plain branches, spreading from tree to tree, are trained ot Lomf Lombardy and Piedmont. This magnificent 0 in pendent festoons. The inclosures are generally plain is composed every where of a rich and deep small, and the fields divided from one another, not loam. There are no gravelly hills except near the by hedges, but rows of mulberries, poplars, and Alps. The high mountains which overlook the oaks. Such is the luxuriance of these woods, that plain pour down an immense number of streams, the country, when seen from an eminence, or at a which are collected in canals, and conveyed in so little distance, seems a continued forest ; and this many various directions, that there is scarcely any without any intermission, from Turin to Venice. farm or meadow which has not the benefit of irriga- (Chateauvieux, 15.) tion. This immense system of irrigation was comThe peasantry are everywhere Metayers ; that is pleted at different times during the twelfth and thir- half the stock requisite for cultivating the farm is teenth centuries, by the wealth and spirit of the furnished by the landlord and half by the tenant; commercial cities which filled the plain of Lombar- the former pays the taxes and repairs the houses; dy. The Naviglio Grande, which brings the water and the produce is equally divided between them. of the Tessino to the Milanese territory, was begun Few of the cultivators are proprietors of the ground long before the date of any authentic records; but which they labour. Throughout all Lombardy the it was brought to Milan from Abbiate Grasso in farm-houses are large and well-built. They are al1177, and made navigable in 1271. (Nuovo Raccolta ways constructed of red brick, and, uniting strength dell Aquce, VII. 97.) The canal of Muzza was exe- with neatness, preserve, notwithstanding the regulacuted in 1220; and brings the waters of the Adda to rity and plainness of their form, a rustic character. Marignan, and irrigates the district of Lodi. (Verri, The offices consist of a court of four equal sides, Hist, de Milan, I. 240.) The Canal of Treviglio, in the centre of one of which rises a square which carries the water of the Brenta to the terri- building of two stories. In the lower story of tory of Treviglio, was made in 1303 ; and, in 1460, this building the farmer lives; the upper forms his the Great Canal of Martisano was begun, still the granary. The stables for oxen and cows lie on admiration of engineers, for the costly aqueducts each side of the farmer’s house, and complete one which carry it across the rivers in its course. This side of the square. On each of the other three sides system of irrigation was completed in 1497, by Leo- of the court is a portico, from twenty to twenty-four nardo da Vinci, who united the Naviglio Grande to feet wide, the roof of which is supported from with4

ITALY. 135 in by a range of columns, at the same distance from advantage of making the milk from a large dairy, Italy, each other as from the wall. Half of the court is that, when the farms are small, the farmers club paved, and the other half is an area for threshing together, to make their milk in common. (Young, out the corn, and is composed of clay. All the fod* II. 154.) Twice a day the milk of fifty or sixty der, straw, and implements about the farm are placed cows, belonging to a society, is sent to the prinunder the porticos. The manure is collected on cipal house, where the dairyman keeps an acthe outside ; and the exterior walls of the whole edi- count of each person’s proportion. The cattle in fice are covered by vines. The neatness, cleanliness, this district are the Hungarian breed, and of unriand even elegance, of a Lombard farm-steading, is valled excellence ; the defects in that race being such as can hardly be imagined by those who have completely extirpated, by a cross with the Swiss, for not visited that country. which purpose 2000 cows have for time immemorial The meadow part of the farm is let for a money annually passed the St Gothard. The cattle are alrent, and this is often forty francs. The produce of ways fed in the house, upon mown grass, a method the remainder of the farm is equally divided, as al- by which great economy, both in point of fodder and ready observed, between the landlord and tenant. manure, is effected. The manure here is all applied The labour is principally done by oxen, in most parts to the meadows, and after twelve or fifteen years, of the country. Generally speaking, the farms are they are broken up, and yield a rotation of, 1. Hemp, small; from ten to fifty acres. (Chateauvieux, 17-) followed by vegetables ; 2. Oats ; S. Wheat and VegeIn the Milanese they are larger, and in some places tables; 4. Maize; 5. Wheat. In these districts, the extend to 700 or 800 acres. Some of the farmers major part of every farm consists of meadows. there, are possessed of large capitals; from 50,000 The rotation in the arable districts of this tract of to 100,000 francs, and feed 100 cows. (Young, II. Lombardy is as follows : 154.) The farms in the vicinity of Padua are small; 1st Year, wheat, after it maize and hemp—maand tl e ruinous system of middlemen prevails there nured. and in the Bolognese territory. 2d Wheat. The rotation usually followed in Piedmont is, 3d Winter Beans. 1. Maize, with hemp or French beans. 2. Wheat. 4th Wheat manured. 3. Clover. 4. Wheat. The remarkable recurrence 5th Clover ploughed in, after once mowing. of the grain crops is the consequence of the abun6th Wheat. dance of manure procured by mowing the grass In the neighbourhood of Parma, tobacco is cultilands three or four times a-year ; the whole manure vated, and it comes instead of maize the first year. of which is laid on the arable land. The maize is Ihis sketch may give a general idea of the considered as a preparatory crop. It is planted in husbandry of Lombardy; a country in which drills, and hoed and earthed up like our potatoes, a more admirable system of culture is now purand the land kept perfectly clean. It is extremely sued than any where else in Europe. In many productive, and constitutes the principal food of the places it is, of course, very different from what has peasantry over the whole of Lombard}^. A number been above described, and, in particular, rice crops of French beans or hemp are mixed with the maize are very frequent in the neighbourhood of Pavia, The clover is sown in spring with the wheat. It is and thence eastward along the course of the Po. cut in autumn after the wheat is down. In the I he rotation follow7ed in the rice grounds is, 1. Rice ; spring following it is cut again, and ploughed down, 2. Rice; 3. Rice; 4. Fallow and dung; 5. Wheat after which the land is ploughed three times as sum- and clover; 6. Clover; 7* Clover ; 8- Clover ; 9. mer fallow. Wheat is sown again in autumn, which Flax and millet the same year, and then rice again closes the rotation. Thus in the course of four as before. So great is the produce of this husbandry, years are three crops for the use of man, one fallow, that, on the rice grounds, 160 francs an acre is a and two crops for cattle. To these must be added common rent. In the Milanese also, two crops of the crop of hemp, which is often considerable; that corn are cpmmonly gained in one year by sowing of silk, wine, vegetables, and fruit, besides the am- maize in July, after wheat, and wheat and millet, or ple produce of the meadow land. A farm of sixty rye, almost always are reaped in the same year. acres, under this management, feeds a family of (Young, I. 203; Chateauvieux, 278.) eight or nine persons, maintains twenty-two head of The second agricultural district is that of Tus-Agriculture cattle, of which two oxen, a cow, and two pigs, are cany, in which the mountainous nature of the soil of Tuscany, fattened every year. The value of its silk amounts has rendered a totally different system of cultiat least to 25 Jouisd’ors; it makes enough of wine vation requisite. Nothing can be imagined more for the use of its inhabitants, and nearly the whole sterile in itself, or more adverse to any agricultucrops of wheat, and all the produce of the dairy, is ral improvement, than the aspect of nature in the carried to market. (Chateauvieux, 30.) Appenines. Their sides present a series of broThe soil of the plain of Lombardy becomes rich- ken rocks, barren slopes, or arid cliffs. The roots er as you move to the eastward ; and in the Lode- of the bushes, laid bare by the autumnal rains, san and Parmesan are found those admirable pastures are, by degrees, dried up by the heat of the sun.which produce cheese celebrated over all the world. They perish, and leave nothing behind them but a Every thing connected with the rural economy of few odoriferous shrubs dispersed on the rocks, to this garden of Italy is interesting. Some of the cover the wreck. The narrow ravines between them farms are large, consisting of several hundred acres, present, in summer, only the dry beds of torrents, in and feeding above 100 cow7s; and so great is the which fallen trees, rocks, and gravel, are accumu-

136 Italy. s *—* v

ITALY. lated by the violence of the winter rains. This debris there soon remain only shapeless vestiges covered is brought down by the torrents into the wider val- by briers. (Ibid. 303.) In the valley of the Arno, the farms are extremelies, and whole tracts of country are desolated by a sterile mass of stone and gravel. Thus the moun- ly small; generally from three to ten acres. The tains and the vallies at their feet seem equally in- peasants’ houses are concealed from the eye of the capable of culture; but the industry of the Italians passenger, by the olives which clothe the lower parts has overcome these obstacles, and converted moun- of the mountains, and by the luxuriant chesnut fotains, to appearance the most sterile that imagina- rests which adorn their higher ascents. They are tion could conceive, into a succession of gardens, generally, however, not more than 100 paces from in which every thing that is most delightful, as well each other, and are built of brick in the most elegant manner. For the most part they consist only as useful, is assembled. This astonishing metamorphosis has been effected of one storey, with a single door, and two windows by the introduction of the terrace system of culture, in front. On the wall which surrounds it are often an improvement which seems to have been unknown placed vases of antique forms, in which flowers, to the ancient Romans, and to have been spread in aloes, and orange trees, are growing. The houses Europe with the return of the Crusaders, in the are completely covered with vines, so that, during twelfth and thirteenth centuries. (Chateauvieux, 300.) the summer, it is difficult to distinguish them from Nothing could oppose the destructive force of the arbours. The land belonging to the farm lies torrents, but altering the surface of the hills, and round the houses, and is divided into fields by thereby breaking the course of the waters. This small canals, or rows of trees, some of which are was an immense work, for it required the whole soil mulberries, but the greatest part poplars. The to be displaced, and built up by means of artificial poplars are pollarded, and each tree supports a walls, into successive terraces ; and this, in many vine, the branches of which are twined round in places, could be effected only by breaking solid various directions, in such a manner, as to give the whole somewhat the form of the antique Tusrocks, and bringing a new soil from distant places. The artificial land, so dearly purchased, is de- can vases. These divisions of the land are oblong signed for the cultivation of fruits and vegetables. squares, large enough to be cultivated by means The terraces are always covered with fruit-trees of oxen, which here, as elsewhere, are employed placed in a reflected sun. Amidst the reverbera- in the works of agriculture. (Sismondi, Agric. de tions of so many walls, the fruit is most abun- Tosc.; Chateauvieux, 76.) A pair is kept jointly dant and superior in its kind. No room is lost in by ten or twelve farmers, who employ them sucthese limited situations,—the vine extends its branch- cessively in the cultivation of their farm. They es along the walls; a hedge formed of the same vine are of the finest Hungarian breed, and extremebranches surrounds each terrace, and covers it with ly docile. Every considerable farm maintains one verdure. In the corners formed by the meeting of horse, and a small painted cart, which serves for the supporting walls, fig-trees are planted to vege- all the purposes of draught, and to carry the family tate under their protection. The owner takes advan- to church. (Chateauvieux, 77.) The farmers have, tage of every vacant space left between the olive- in general, no other stock but heifers, which they trees to raise melons and vegetables ; so that he ob- buy at three, and keep till they are eighteen months tains on a very limited extent, olives, grapes, pome- old. There is hardly any meadow land, or artificial granates, and melons. So great is the produce of grass. The cattle are fed almost exclusively on the this culture that, under good management, half the leaves of trees, the refuse of vegetables, and a little crop of seven acres is sufficient for a family of five wild clover. The rotation of crops is not uniformly the same ; persons; being little more than the produce of threefourths of an acre to each soul. This little space is but it is very generally as follows : 1st Year, Maize and French beans, or other vegeoften divided into more than twenty terraces. {Ibid. tables. 302.) 2d Wheat. A great part of the mountainous part of Italy has 3d Winter beans. adopted this admirable culture; and this accounts 4th Wheat. for the great population which every where inhabit 5th Clover; sown after wheat in the spring, the Italian mountains, and explains the singular fact that, in scenes where nothing but continued foliage and followed by sorgho, which is a larger variety of meets the eye, the traveller finds, on a nearer ap- parsnip. (Ibid. 78.) The land is manured only proach, villages and hamlets, and all the signs of a once in five years; nevertheless, such is the richness of the alluvial soil in the plain of the Arno, numerous peasantry. Continued vigilance is requisite to maintain these that the crops are all tolerably good. The system of irrigation in this valley is a most works. If the attention of the husbandman is intermitted for any considerable time, the violence of extraordinary monument of human industry. Placed the rains destroys what it had cost so much labour between two ridges of mountains, one of them vedevastated by nutb create. Storms and torrents wash down the soil, ry elevated, it was periodically r and the terraces are broken through or overwhelmed merous torrents, which w ere precipitated from the by the rubbish, which is brought down from the high- mountains, charged with stones and rubbish. To er parts of the mountain. Every thing returns rapid- control these destructive inundations, means were ly to its former state; the vigour of southern vege- contrived to confine the course of the torrents tation covers the ruins of human industry; and within strong walls, which serve at the same time 8

Italy,

ITALY. 137 Italy. for the formation of a great number of canals. At removing them. (Chateauvieux, 329.) The landlord Italy. w regular distances, openings are formed below the is obliged to aid them in every season of distress;— mean level of the stream, that the water may run a bad season often reducing them to the utmost miout laterally, overflow the land, and remain on it sery. They never quit their mode of life, and have long enough to deposit the mud with which it is no means of rising in society. charged. A great many canals, by successive outThe third agricultural division of Italy is the Agriculture lets of the water, divide the principal current, and Maremma, or the plains on the sea shore in Tus-oftheMacheck its rapidity. These canals are infinitely sub- cany, and the Roman states, where the prevalence ^eInma• divided, and to such a degree, that there is not a of the malaria renders it impossible to five permasingle square of land which is not surrounded by nently. This region is everywhere divided into them. They are all lined with walls, built with great estates, and let in large farms. The Maremma square bricks; the scarcity of water rendering the of Rome, 40 leagues in length, and from 10 to 15 most vigilant economy of it necessary. A number in breadth, and which feeds annually 67,000 horned of small bridges connect the multitude of little islands, cattle, is cultivated by only 80 farmers. These farinto which these canals subdivide the country. These mers live in Rome or Sienna; for the unhealthiness works are still kept in good repair; but the whole of the atmosphere precludes the possibility of their wealth of Tuscany could not now furnish the sums re- dwelling on the lands they cultivate. Each farm has quisite for their construction. That was done by on it only a single house, which rises in the midst Florence in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, of desolation. No garden, or orchards, or meadows, in the days of her Republican freedom. {Ibid. 80, announce the vicinity of a human habitation. It 85.) stands alone in the midst of a vast solitude, with the This mode of cultivation is followed all over the cattle pasturing up to the walls of the dwelling. valley of the Arno, and on the lower ranges of hills The whole wealth of these great farms consists in which compose the chain of the Appenines. In the their cattle. The farm servants are comparatively few, higher regions, the severity of the climate renders a and they are constantly on horseback. Armed with different mode of proceeding necessary. The moun- a gun and a lance, the shepherds, as in the wilds of tain pastures, at the summit of the Appenines, feed Tartary, are constantly in the open air tending the numerous flocks, which migrate in winter into the herds committed to their care. They receive no fixMaremma of Sienna, and the Campagna of Rome. ed wages, but are paid in cattle, which graze with The chesnut forests, with which the country abounds, the herds of their masters. The mildness of the furnish the peasantry with most of their subsistence ; climate permits the grass to grow during all the winbut incessant industry extracts a scanty crop of corn ter, and so the flocks are maintained there in that from the better parts of the soil. Land is every- season. In summer, as the excessive heat renders where much subdivided, and the cultivators are ge- the pastures parched and scanty, the flocks are sent nerally, as in the Alps, proprietors of the lands which to the highest ridges of the Appenines in quest of they cultivate. (Young, 11.157,152; Sismondi, cool air and fresh herbage. The oxen, however, and de Tosc.) The case is very different in the plains cows of the Hungarian breed, are able both to bear and lower regions. A large proportion of the people the heat of summer, and to find food during its conderive their subsistence from migrating in summer, tinuance in the Maremma. They remain, therefore, to cut down the harvests of Tuscany, Lombardy, during all the year; and the shepherds who tend and the Campagna of Rome; and with the money them continue exposed to the pestilential air during thus acquired they return annually, or after the lapse the autumnal months. The woods are stocked with of years, to their native hills, where they become swine, and the marshes with buffaloes. So great is proprietors, and, by strict economy, contrive to the quantity of the live-stock on these immense farms, maintain themselves for the remainder of their lives. that on one visited by Mr Chateauvieux were cattle (Sismondi, Agric. de Tosc.) Almost all the mountai-n to the value of L. 16,000 Sterling; and the farmer pastures are let from year to year, to the shepherds had two other farms On which the stocking was of of the Maremma, who bring their flocks hither in the equal value. (Chateauvieux, 157.) summer season. The rent they pay for the season is These farms, however, are not exclusively devoted a piastre for a horse, five sous for a sheep, and three to pasture. The most favourable situations for for a goat. These shepherds limit themselves to one wheaten crops are selected, and the sheep are folded species of animal. Some rear horses, others sheep, there during the winter, in order to enrich the soil. others goats. They have no fixed residence, but live In spring the oxen which range at large on the pasin sheds in the Appenines in summer, and in the Ma- tures are yoked in the plough by labourers hired at remma in winter. (Chateauvieux, 58, 61.) The in- Rome for the purpose. The shepherds, who attend troduction of the potatoe would be a signal advan- the cattle, are incapable of any such labour. The tage to the inhabitants of these mountainous dis- inhabitants of the cities bordering on the Maremma, tricts. and of the mountains, do the whole agricultural laAlmost universally in Tuscany land is let to the bour of the farm. These labourers get 40 sous a-day, peasantry at half produce. The proprietor pays all and are furnished with bread from Rome by their taxes, except the capitation tax, and generally fur- employers. As man}' workmen are hired as there nishes the live stock, and repairs the houses. Leases are oxen to plough with, in order that the work may are not usual ; but the peasantry lose nothing by that be done as soon as possible. A farmer, in the Camcircumstance. The right to the farm generally de- pagna of Rome, often yokes 100 ploughs at once. scends from father to son, the landlords hardly ever When the work is done, the labourers return to VOL. V. PART I.

138 Italy.

ITALY. the cities, and the oxen are dismissed to their pas- malaria as that which is still under water. (Cha- Italy, teauvieux, 173.) tures. In the Terra di Lavoro, or Campagna of Naples, Agriculture This first ploughing is only for the purpose of the breaking the earth, and exposing the roots of the the extreme richness of the soil has given rise to a mode of culture different from any which has yet ofNaples* weeds to the sun. In a month the land is again ploughed, and the roots burned. These two plough- been described. The aspect of this great plain is, ings are followed by two others at equal intervals in perhaps, the most striking in point of agricultural a cross direction to the first; so that, by the middle riches that exists in the world. The great heat of of September, the earth has been broken up four dif- the sun renders it necessary that the grain should be ferent times. The seed is then sown, and covered shaded by trees; and, accordingly, the whole counin by a slight ploughing. The harvest takes place try is intersected by rows of elms or willows, which the following summer, after which the land is left to divide it into small portions of half or three quarters of an acre each. A vine is planted at the foot of rest for many years. The farmer pays a money rent, which is estimated every tree ; and such is the luxuriance of vegetation, only for the arable part of the farm. He has a lease that it not only rises in a few years to the very sumfor years, and pays 18 francs the French acre, which mit, but extends its branches in a lateral direction, is just equal to the Scotch. The land which is not so as to admit of festoons being trained from one susceptible of tillage is not estimated in the rent, tree to another. These trees are not pollardedr as although from it the farmer often makes his greatest in Tuscany and Lombardy, but allowed to grow to profit, as the woods and marshes feed the horned their full height, so that it is not unusual to see a vine clustering round the top of a poplar 60 or 80 cattle, pigs, and buffaloes. A farm, which Mr Chateauvieux visited, consist- feet high. Under their shade the soil produces aned of 6000 acres of arable land, with an equal por- nually a double crop, one of which is of wheat or tion not fit for the plough. For this he paid £2,000 maize. Melons are cultivated in great quantities, piastres, which, reckoning the piastre at 4s- 2d., is and with hardly any manure. Thickets of fig-trees, L. 4-583, 6s. 4d. Sterling, being 15s. the acre for the of peaches, and aloes, grow spontaneously on the arable ground. The portion of 6000 arable acres was borders of the fields. Groves of oranges clothe the divided into nine parts, one of which was annually slopes, and spread their charming perfumes over the under crop, one fallow, and seven in grass. The adjoining country ; while the rocky eminences are land which was not arable fed 700 cows, and 2000 covered with vines, which produce fruits ol the most pigs. About one-tenth of these, however, belonged delicious flavour. This rich plain is cultivated entirely by poor Meto the shepherds, and constituted the pay they received. The farmer cleared annually about 5000 pias- tayers, who have farms from three to seven acres each, tres, or L. 1200, besides 5 per cent, on the capital which they hold from the proprietor, on condivested in his flocks. From this it appears, that the tion of paying him two-thirds of the produce. The Campagna of Rome, how desolate soever in appear- redundance of the population has so depressed the condition of the labouring classes, as to reduce them ance, is by no means entirely unproductive. Great efforts were made by Pius VI., and after him to the necessity of giving this proportion of the by the French, for the draining of the Pontine produce to the landlord, in place of a half, as in marshes.. His plan was to draw parallel drains at the north of Italy. Ploughs are seldom used in certain distances from each other,running from north cultivation; the whole is done by means of the to south, and falling into the sea, at Bocca di Fuime, spade. The soil being mixed with ashes is so eanear Terracino. At an angle of 45° with these, sily worked, that even children assist in the digging. cross-drains were to be drawn also parallel to each Melons are sown in spring, and, after their fruit is other. Two only of these canals were finished by gathered, wheat is sown, which ripens in September, this Pontiff, at an immense expence of human life and when the stubble is dug in, beans or clover, (Eustace, I.) ; but they drained a very considerable which vegetate during the winter, and are cut twice portion of the marshes ; and their complete success or thrice for the use of the cows or buffaloes. Most convinced the French engineers whom Bonaparte of the cottagers have a few goats, and one or two employed, that this was the proper mode of pro- cows, which are fed chiefly on the leaves of the ceeding. Under the skilful direction of M. Prony, trees. The richer class have a horse or ass to carry the works were revived with great activity ; but the their produce to market. The rotation generally pursued in this Campagna overthrow of the empire of Bonaparte prevented any considerable progress being made. The portion is as follows: drained is covered with a beautiful turf, and yields 1st year. Maize, with manure. magnificent crops of wheat, maize, hemp, and le2d —-— Wheat. gumes. Such is the richness of this virgin soil, that 3d Onions and legumes. many fallows are necessary to clear off’ the weeds, 4th Wheat, followed by beans or clover. r which grow w ith extraordinary luxuriance. The 5lh Melons, followed by maize. inhabitants of Piperno and Sermonetto, and of all the This course of husbandry yields seven crops in five villages situate on the declivity of the mountains, which bound the marshes on the eastern side, rent years; of which four are leguminous and three of corn. portions of this land, and cultivate it without chang- Besides their regular crops, they have the produce ing their dwellings ; for experience has shown, that of the vines and other fruits which grow on the same the drained land is nearly as much subject to the land, and the leaves of the trees for their cattle. A II

139 1 T A L V. Italy, family of five persons is here maintained on a third The land is very much divided, and belongs, in the Italy, of the produce of five acres; being the produce of higher regions, to the peasantry ; but their entire one-third of an acre to each soul. The population want of skill and capital renders them incapable of in the Campagna is nearly 5000 to the square league. availing themselves of the advantages which their deNo where in the world, except perhaps in India, is lightful climate affords. The most favoured spots such richness of soil and density of population to be only are selected for grain and vegetables; the greater part of the mountains are left to the olive and found. (Chateauvieux, 215.) It only remains, in order to conclude this sketch sweet chesnuts, which here grow in the utmost luxuof Italian agriculture, to mention the cultivation of riance, and constitute the principal support of the Cotton, which is carried on to a considerable extent people. They migrate in great numbers to the low in the southern provinces of Naples, especially in country in the season of harvest, and carry back with the vicinity of Otranto, and in the Abruzzo. But them a small pittance for the winter months. Yet the district where it is conducted with the greatest notwithstanding their poverty, the climate compensuccess, is in that fine valley which lies between sates many disadvantages. The little gardens, which Pompeii and Salerno, on the road to Pestum. It their children manage, furnish fruits, which are esis there introduced into the regular rotation of crops. teemed luxuries among the rich in northern cliThe farmers of this district produced for export, in mates. The condition of the peasantry all over Italy, General the year 1812, 60,000 bales of cotton. {Ibid. 223.) lState of the The land intended for this crop is turned over with the exception of Tuscany, is indigent and miser- 1>easantr ywith the spade in March, and the seeds are sown in able. They live, indeed, in the midst of natural beaulines at the distance of three feet. The plants in ty; their dwellings are adorned with fruits and flowers; the lines are two feet asunder. No manure is re- and the traveller, on a cursory view, is apt to imaquired for the soil; it needs only to be kept quite gine that the inhabitants participate in the riches clean, and for this purpose women are employed du- with which they are surrounded. But if he enters ring the whole season in weeding. As soon as the their dwellings the illusion is destroyed. He will flowering is over, the ends of the branches are nipt find them crowded in old and uncomfortable houses, off, in order to direct all the sap to the fruit. The and living in a manner the most penurious. In Lomharvest, which is long and tedious, consists in col- bardy, the labouring classes are, in general, ill clad, lecting the capsules as they ripen. Nothing is then without shoes or stockings, and destitute of every required but to clear the cotton by separating it from species of comfort. Inhabiting a country which the seeds. This operation gives employment to the abounds in wine, they rarely taste anything but water. “ The division of land among the tenantry,” women and children. The above described course of husbandry, pursued says Mr Young, “ leads them to grasp at the least in the Terra di Lavoro, leaves no room for this crop; prospect of maintenance for a family ; and populaand yet none of the crops there raised can be dis- tion goes on with unlimited force, in consequence of pensed with. The Metayer, therefore, begins with the ignorance, the little frugality, and the absence of the cultivation of maize, for which the land is manur- all artificial xvants among the people.” In the districts ed,—wheat follows it, and beans are planted the same of Padua, Modena, and Bologna, and even a great year for a winter crop. The land on which they part of the Ecclesiastical States, the system of middlegrow is prepared for the cotton seeds by the end of men prevails, and the condition of the cultivators is March in the spring following; after it is harvested uniformly worse than where they hold directly of the wheat is again sown the same autumn, to which landlord. The situation of the people in the Tuscan States clover succeeds. Melons succeed the clover, and legumes, planted as soon as the melon crop is taken is greatly superior to what obtains in other parts of off, occupy the ground until the spring, and finish Italy. The number and opulent appearance of the villages, the inns and handsome shops, all bespeak the the course. The rotation, therefore, is as follows : greater comfort of the middling and lower orders ; 1st year, Maize, manured. and remind the English traveller of the cheerful and 2d — Wheat, followed by beans. prosperous aspect of his own country. Nor is the com3d — Cotton. fort of the people less conspicuous in their dress and 4,th — Wheat, followed by clover. dwellings. On ordinary occasions their dress is neat 5th — Melons, followed by legumes. and substantial, and on Sundays and festivals, costly This system yields eight regular crops in five and handsome. This obtains, however, chiefly in the years; besides the grapes, fruit, and leaves, which valley of the Arno, where, as already observed, the women, add to the earnings of the family by their mathe same land produces. {Ibid. 225.) Such is the system of husbandry pursued in the nufaclure of straw hats. In the remoter districts of best parts of the kingdom of Naples. In the Ma- the country, the peasantry are in a more depressed rqmma of Pestum the same pastoral habits obtain condition; bread and liquorice form their ordinary as in those of Rome and Tuscany ; and the terrace food, and meat is tasted only on Sundays; and not husbandry is to be seen in some part of the moun- unfrequently the Metayers are so poor, that the landtains of Abruzzo and Calabria. But, in general, the lord is obliged to lend them corn for food, when the Appenines in Naples are cultivated with much less produce of the harvests has been unfavourable. industry than in the Tuscan States, the natural con- (Young, II. 156; Chateauvieux, 79.) Every traveller observes that the condition of the sequence of the oppressions of the nobles, and the despotic nature of the government. {Ibid. 233.) people in the Roman States is worse than in the

140 Italy.

ITALY. northern parts of Italy. But their situation is still criticism on political subjects would be considered as more depressed in the kingdom of Naples,—in that a high offence, and instantly prohibited. Modern country where the plains annually yield a double history even is in many places an interdicted subject. crop, and where the mountains spontaneously pro- The newspapers are subjected to the most rigid censorship, and contain almost nothing under the head duce the finest and most luxuriant fruits. The miserable condition of the Neapolitan peasant- of Italy but frivolous details of fashionable life. The freedom of individuals is abridged to an inry is not surprising when the multiplied oppressions and exactions to which they are subjected are consi- conceivable degree by the oppressive power which dered. The barons have the right of life and death is everywhere vested in the police. To those who within their jurisdiction. They have a legal claim to have lived only in Britain, it is hardly possible to one-tenth of the produce that grows within their lord- convey a conception of the authority which, in all ships, and the exclusive right of erecting an oven, an the Italian States, is thus exercised over the moveoil-press, an inn, a mill, and a butcher’s shop, that ments of individuals. In the provinces subject to is, of exercising all the necessary arts. (De Sali’s Austria, especially, they have established a system Travels, 19?.) These privileges are sold by them by of surveillance which makes them acquainted with auction to the highest bidder. Many lordships, in everything that is going forward in private families. addition to this, have the right of levying road and No Austrian subject is allowed to leave the Austrian bridge-money, though both are generally in the most provinces, unless his passport is signed by the Didilapidated state. If the baron be an oppressive and rector-General of the Police at Vienna ; and no founthinking master, or if he does not reside on his reign traveller can enter the Austrian territories unestate, and the management devolves on a steward, less his passport is signed by the Austrian Ambassathe condition of the vassal under these privileges is dor at some foreign court. It may here be observed, truly deplorable. It is with the utmost difficulty however, that the police treat natives in a much they are able to pay the charges made upon them ; more despotic manner than foreign travellers. To the and any appeal against injustice is out of the question, honour of the government of Florence, it must be as the baron is himself the judge, and his decision admitted, that the police throughout all its territories, can be brought under review only by endless litigation like every other branch of the government, is much less oppressive than in the rest of Italy. and at vast expence. {Ibid. 202.) It is of the nature of despotic government, howThe manna, a substance which exudes from the leaves of a certain species of ash, belongs every- ever, to fail in the attainment of its own objects ; where to the King; and to gather it a certain and while it professes to preserve the public safety number of labourers are furnished by the lord of better than any other, it is incapable of affording the barony. During the season that the collec- that strong restraint upon crime which springs from tion of the manna lasts, which is about a month, the co-operation of all classes in a free country. In none of the labourers so employed are allowed to the Roman and Neapolitan provinces, robbery and absent themselves even for a day, to look after murder are so common, as to have rendered travelling their own scanty harvest. If the peasantry are de- in many districts highly dangerous. Robberies are tected burning or injuring any of the trees on which committed by large bodies of ten or twenty persons. this royal substance grows, or if the smallest quan- If no resistance is made, they are not, in general, tity of the juice is found in their houses, they are pu- guilty of acts of cruelty. It is a common practice nished with the utmost severity. The taxes are all with these bands to carry off some individual who is farmed, and the mode of collecting them adopted by connected with wealthy relations, and having got the farmers of the revenue is in the highest degree him secured in their retreats, they intimate to his relations that, unless he is redeemed within a lioppressive. mited time, they will put their captive to death. A particular spot is assigned, where the ransom is to CHAP. III. be deposited; and, upon its being found there, the Government.—Police.— Manners.— Customs.—Cha- prisoner is conducted blindfold, in the night, to the high road, and there set at liberty. Instances freritable Establishments. quently occur in which 4000 or 5000 crowns are In all the states of Italy, the sovereign is vested given to redeem individuals from this perilous situawith absolute power. The judgments even of the tion. The Alban Mount is a favourite haunt of courts of law are reversed and altered according to these depredators. They made several attempts to his pleasure. He cuts off the rights of succession carry off Lucien Bonaparte from his villa at Frescati, by legitimating a bastard; and sets aside the provi- and actually, on one occasion, succeeded in seizing sions made for families by dispensing with the fetters his secretary. The road from Terraccino to Naples is imposed on the eldest son. The privileges of public guarded by picquets of soldiers, placed at the disbodies are not less at his mercy than the rights of tance of a mile from each other ; but, notwithstandindividuals; he changes at will the customs and pri- ing these precautions, travelling there cannot yet be vileges of cities, and the subsisting prerogatives of considered as perfectly safe. Such is the weakthe different orders of the state. As everything de- ness of the Roman government, that the Pope, unpends on the will of the prince, so every measure is der the able direction of Cardinal Gonsalvi, actucarried into execution by his sole authority, and ally deemed it prudent to enter into a treaty with without the intervention of any public deliberation, or a leader of banditti, who surrendered himself on the consultation of any class of men. Any public condition of being confined two years in the Castle 10

ITALY. Italy, of St Angelo, on a pension of about eighteenpence in this country too frequently disgraces the mida-day, at the expiration of which period he is to be dling classes, and tarnishes the sterling virtues they set at liberty. When the writer of this article was possess, is there in a great degree unknown. The in Rome (in 1819), this noted criminal, known to continual presence of all the higher orders, and have committed many murders, and numberless acts the constant display of their manners in the places of robbery, was living much at his ease, in that cele- of general resort, has given to the middling and brated fortress. lower classes a degree of elegance, and a taste for In Italy the higher classes reside almost constant- the enjoyments of cultivated life, to which there is ly in towns. During a few months in autumn, in- nothing comparable in any other part of Europe. deed, some of them resort from Milan to villas on Intoxication is almost entirely unknown, or, when it the banks of the Lake of Como; from Florence to does occur, is looked upon with the utmost abhorthe baths of Lucca; from Naples to Gastello Mare, rence. The amusements of the lower orders in the on the adjacent shores; and the Malaria of Rome cities consist of dancing, singing, conversation, walkdrives the whole of the wealthier classes to Tivoli, ing, and frequenting the public theatres. Even the Frescati, or Albano, during the dangerous season of peasants in the country participate in those elegant August and September. Many villas, in beautiful amusements, which seem natural to this genial clisituations, are to be seen round the Italian lakes, on mate. An English traveller being benighted in the the hills which surround the valley of the Arno, and Appenines, near Carrara, two years ago (1819), not on the enchanting shores of the Bay of Naples. But only met with a most hospitable reception from a these are occasional, not permanent residences. No- small farmer, who refused to accept any remunerawhere is a country house, in the English sense of the tion, but was charmed the w’hole evening by his three wrord, to be seen. The idea of building and living daughters, who had recently completed their educaon his estate, seems never to enter the mind of an tion at Leghorn, and sung in parts in the most Italian proprietor. Field-sports are wholly unknown beautiful manner. Every peasant, in the vale of the in the north of Italy, as might well be expected Arno, has a horse and small cart, which is used partly among a people whose habits are formed entirely to convey the family to church, and partly to carry to a city life. What they call going to shoot at the daughters to the rustic balls, which, during the Genoa, is sitting down in a little bosco, or wood, summer months, are frequent in Tuscany. (Chateaucomposed of ten or twelve young trees, in the vieux, 76.) Generally speaking, the Italian peasantcorner of a garden, where the sportsman fires at ry are a kind, affectionate, and contented people, crows and magpies, as they fly past. In Naples, who, though poor, enjoy with thankfulness the bounhowever, the love of shooting is very common, and ties of nature, without repining at the humble lot is particularly fashionable at Court; but the mode in which Providence has assigned them. which it is practised, by collecting an immense numThe taste of the middling and lower orders for ber of wild animals, in some enclosed space, and fi ring the fine arts, and their capacity of appreciating their at them as they issue from an outlet, accords but ill excellencies, is very remarkable. The tradesmen in either with the feeling of fair play between the towns, the persons whom you meet with in public sportsman and his game which prevails in England, conveyances, discuss the merits of poetry, music, and or with the active and energetic habits from which architecture, with an enthusiasm and a discriminathe love of it in this country has arisen. tion, which is hardly to be found in the most polishIt is one consequence of this almost entire oblivion ed circles on the north of the Alps. Even the peaof the country by the Italian landholders, that the santry display a taste in works of design, which no noble youth are bred up in habits of indolence and other country exemplifies. If a Virgin and Child inactivity, which, to an inhabitant of the north of Eu- are painted on the extjerior of a cottage by the meanrope, seem altogether contemptible. They are sel- est artisan of the village, the work has a grace and dom to be seen before dinner, but trifle away the fore- air peculiar to Italian painting. Nor is the taste of noon, or occupy it in the pursuits of gallantry. The the people less conspicuous in their dress and habitanobles dine in general alone ; and invariably drive in tions. The farm-yards in Lombardy are surrounded the afternoon to the Cassino, or the Corso, where wdth porticos and colonnades, composed, indeed, of every lady is attended by her cavaliere serviente. the simplest materials, but chaste and elegant in their The cavalcade proceeds to a fashionable confection- design ; and some of the most striking features of er's, where ices and lemonade are procured, and Italian landscape consist of the picturesque forms in thence moves on to the opera. Here cards or con- which the village churches and common country versation supply the amusement required by per- houses are built. Jt has long been matter of prosons doomed daily to witness the same sort of per- verbial remark, that the Italians have an instinctive formance. This style of manners prevails alike in taste for music; and the proof is to be found not the least as in the greatest towns; for, however in- only in the nice discrimination of the beauties of the considerable the population of a city may be, it opera, which is displayed even by the lowest of the has its theatre and its Corso. populace, but in the charming airs which are sung in The universal disposition of the Italian proprietors every part of the country. to this mode of life, is the cause of the vast number One remarkable peculiarity remains to be noticed, of towns which are to be met with in every part of namely, the fondness which all ranks manifest for Italy, more especially in the plain of Lombardy ; and the exhibitions of Improvisatori composers, and the of that polish of manners, which has descended so singular talent for this species of exhibition which is low in the scale of society. The coarseness which frequently to be met with. In the streets of Venice,

141 y-

Ital

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14£ Italy.

I T A L Y. of Rome, and Naples, the attention of the traveller counteract, in a great measure, the pernicious effects s is often arrested by a group of persons who surround of some of the religious doctrines which they are ob-' some wandering composer of this description; and liged to inculcate. In the mountains, more espeit is difficult to say which is most worthy of astonish- cially, which surround the Italian lakes, or which ment, the ease of the language in which the tale is shut in the delightful valley of the Arno, they live delivered, or the intense interest which is evinced by on the most cordial terms with their parishioners ; the audience. Nor is it only among the lower classes and in the unnoticed discharge of their duty, present that this passion is prevalent. It exists equally in an example which may put many northern ecclesiasthe highest and most cultivated ranks; and the ta- tics to the blush for the opportunities of doing good lent which the performers display is such as can they have neglected, and the great acquirements scarcely be credited by those who have not witnessed they have turned to no. useful purpose. In justice to the peasantry, it must also be observtheir exhibitions. When the Improvisatore is to make an exhibition, ed, that they seem generally to be strongly impressed he demands a subject; and after six or eight minutes with their religious duties, and to join with sincerity thought begins his song, which often extends to five in the exercise of devotion. To them, the Catholic or six hundred verses, in which, not unfrequently, religion is divested of most of its worst consequences; noble bursts of passion and poetical feeling cap- and the universal charity which it inculcates has had tivate and astonish the audience. Many of these a material effect in softening and humanizing their extempore composers voluntarily select the most manners. In the great Christian virtue of charity, indeed, difficult versification: sometimes the triple rhime of none of the Italians, of whatever rank or description, Dante, sometimes the octavos 6f Tasso. Nor is it only among the Italian men that this can be accused of being deficient. A population, singular talent manifests itself. The most admirable which has nearly reached the utmost verge of subImprovisatoris of modern times have been found in sistence, and the continued pressure of despotism, the other sex. The celebrated Corilla, who was necessarily occasion a great deal of misery ; and the crowned at the Capitol, captivated all Italy by the same causes to which the misery is owing, have mabrilliancy of her imagination, and the elegance of terially diminished the ability of the higher orders her manner; and suggested to the most distinguish- to relieve it. Yet, the provision which is made in ed female writer of modern times the original of her most of the great towns, for the relief of distress, inimitable Corinne. La Faulistici of Florence, and and of the poor, is such as to afford a splendid exLa Bandittini of Bologna, have been celebrated in a ample of Christian beneficence. There are above lesser degree; the former for the melody of her ver- sixty charitable foundations in Naples. Of these, sification, and the latter for the vast, extent of the seven are hospitals for the sick ; thirty are receptacles classical and historical information which she in- for orphans, foundlings, and other destitute persons; troduced into her poetry. The most remarkable five are banks for the occasional relief of such poor Improvisatori of the present day is Madame Mazzei, persons as stand in need of the loan of small sums of a lady of high rank at Florence, wdio surpasses all money, and the others are schools or confraternities. her predecessors in the fertility of her imagination, (Eustace, I. 499.) The income of these establishthe harmony of her style, and the perfect regularity ments is very considerable, and is derived principally of her versification. She does not sing, and has from grants of land received from the piety of forlittle power of recitation ; but when she begins an mer times; but the expenditure is generally greater improvisatory composition, her language and man- than the regular income. But the deficiency, however great, is abundantly supplied by donations, most ner bear the marks of the highest poetical genius. The dress of the peasantry is extremely various, of which come from unknown benefactors. (Ibid.) All the other cities exhibit more or less the same and, in general, highly picturesque. In Naples, more especially, and in the mountainous part of the amiable concern for human suffering. It is comNeapolitan territory, the colours they wear are com- puted that the annual revenue of the charitable inmonly scarlet and blue; and the warmth of the cli- stitutions of Milan amounts to L.87,000 a-year. mate obliges the men to throw their coats over their (Young's Travels, II. 645.) In the great hospital, shoulders in a manner peculiarly adapted for paint- there are commonly from 2000 to 3000 patients ; yet ing. When we see the brilliant and varied colours such is its revenue, that the directors are enabled of the dress of both sexes in the Italian villages, annually to divide a large surplus of money among and attend to the rapid and violent gesticulations the other charities. The other charitable instituinto which the people throw themselves even in or- tions of that great city are very numerous. dinary conversation, it is not difficult to perceive Without doubt, many of these charitable establishwhence the Italian painters have drawn both the ments are attended with pernicious consequences, conception of drapery, and the extraordinary power and this has been very forcibly observed by an inof representing passion which characterizes their telligent French writer (Lalande, Vol. Y. l66), school. who ascribes to the great number of hospitals in The corruptions of religion in this country are uni- Rome, and the facility with which soup and alms can versally known ; but it is but justice to the Italian be procured at the convents, much of the mendicity parochial clergy to say, that their lives are often spent and idleness which prevail in that metropolis. Yet in the most exemplary manner; and that, by a rigid misdirected and pernicious as this charity may often adherence to the practice of virtue, they not only pre- be, it is impossible to refuse admiration to the truly sent a most salutary example to their flocks, but Christian spirit from which it has arisen ; and it

143 ITALY. Italy Italy is not to be forgotten^ that this virtue is strongly advanced years, by the heartless gallantry of a faH and variously exemplified, even in the highest ranks, shionable life. JurispruJunspru- rpj^ societ;y 0f the Misericordia at Florence includes dence. The works chiefly referred to in this article are the j 400 persons, among whom the principal nobility are to be found. Their duty is to attend the sick and following : Sismondi, Histoire des Republiques Italibury the dead ; and they permit no circumstance, ennes, 16 Vols. Paris, 1809-1818—Sismondi, Agrihowever painful, to interfere with this duty. (Wil- calture de Toscane, Geneva, 1802—Chateauvieux, Lettres ecrites d?Italic, 1812. 8vo. Young’s Iraliams’s Travels, I. 143.) Much of all this is, without doubt, to be ascribed vels in France and Italy, 4to. Lond. 1796.—Daru, to the efforts of the clergy, who incessantly incul- Histoire de Venice, 8 Vols. Paris, 1818.—De Sali’s cate charity, as the most efficacious means of aton- Travels in Naples, 8vo. 2 Vols—Denina, Tableau Verri, Historia de ing for a life of wickedness. But it is not, perhaps, de Haute Italic, Paris, 1805 unreasonable to conclude, that despotism, by en- Milano, 8vo. 1712. Milan—Villani, Historia, Milan, tirely depriving the rich of employment or any spe- 1626, Folio Paoletti, l’Agriculture de Toscane. cies of political interest, has had a material influ- —Nuova Raccolta delle Aque, 9 Vols. Milan, 1736’ence in directing towards charitable and benevolent —Lalande, Voyage d’Italic, 5 Vols. 8vo. Paris, 1802. objects, those warm feelings which the Italians pos- —Eustace’s Travels, 2 Vols. 4to. Lond. 1813.— sess in a greater degree than any other people of Williams’s Travels in Italy and Greece, 2 Vols. 8vo. (1. i- i-) Europe, and which cannot be satisfied, at least in Ed. 1819.

JURISPRUDENCE. f'he object and end of the science, which is distinguished by the name of Jurisprudence, is the protection of rights. The end of The business of the present discourse is, thereJurispru- fore, to ascertain the means which are best calcudence, viz. lated for the attainment of that end. What we dethe Protecsire to accomplish is,—the protection of rights : tion of Rights. What we have to inquire is,—the means by which protection may be affbrded. That rights have hitherto been very ill protected, Importance of the In- even in the most enlightened countries, is matter of quiry, as universal acknowledgment and complaint. That involving men are susceptible of happiness, only in proportion Human Happiness. as rights are protected, is a proposition, which, taken generally, it is unnecessary to prove. The importance of the inquiry, therefore, is evident. It is requisite, as a preliminary, to fix, with some Confusion in the vul- precision, what we denote by the expression rights. gar uses of There is much confusion in the use of this term. the word That disorderly mass, the Homan law, changes the Right. meaning of the wmrd in the two members into which it divides the subject, Jura Personarum and Jura Rerum. In the first of these phrases, the word means a title to enjoy ; in the second, it must of necessity mean something else, because things cannot enjoy. Lawyers, whose nature it is to trudge, one after another, in the track which has been made for them; and to whose eyes that which is, and that which ought to be, have, often, no mark of distinction, have translated the jargon into English, as well as into other modern languages. This is not all the confusion which has been incurred in the use of the word right. It is sometimes employed in a very general way, to denote whatever ought to be ; and in that sense is opposed to wrong. There are also persons, but these are philosophers, pushing on their abstractions, who go beyond the

sense in which it is made to denote generally whatever ought to be, and who make it stand for the foundation of whatever ought to be. These philosophers say, that there is aright and a wrong, original, fundamental; and that things ought to be, or ought not to be, according as they do, or do not, conform to that standard. If asked whence we derive a knowledge of this right and wrong in the abstract, which is the foundation and standard of what we call right and wrong in the concrete, they speak dogmatically, and convey no clear ideas. * In short, writers of this stamp give us to understand, that we must take this standard, like many other things which they have occasion for, upon their word. After all their explanations given, this, we find, is what alone we are required, or rather commanded, to trust to. The standard exists,—Why ? Because they say it exists ; and it is at our peril if we refuse to admit the assertion. They assume a right, like other despots, to inflict punishment, for contumacy, or contempt of court. To be sure, hard words are the only instrument of tyranny which they have it in their power to employ. They employ them, accordingly ; and there is scarcely an epithet, calculated to denote a vicious state of the intellectual, or moral part, of the human mind, which they do not employ to ex-Jte an unfavourable opinion of those who refuse subscription to their articles of faith. With right, however, in this acceptation, we have Use of the at present no farther concern than to distinguish ittermKight, clearly from that sense in which the word is employ0f ed in the science of jurisprudence. To conceive juriSpru. more exactly the sense in which it is employed indence. that science, it is necessary to revert to what we established, in the article Government, with regard to the end or object of the social union, for to that,

* See the writings of Kant and his followers, passim ; see also Degerando, and others of his school, in various parts of their works.

JURISPRUDENCE. All that men desire, either with persons or things, Jurispruevery thing which is done in subservience to the sois to render them subservient to the end, for which dencecial union, must of course bear a reference. In that article it appeared, that, as every man de- they are desired as means. They are so rendered sires to have for himself as many good things as pos- by certain powers over them. All rights, then, cioseiT sible, and there is not a sufficiency of good things when the term is closely investigated, are found to invested, for all, the strong, if left to themselves, would take mean powers ; "powers with respect to persons, and mean jPow r# ’f T” from the weak every thing, or at least as much as powers with respect to things. What any one means they pleased ; that the weak, therefore, who are the when he says that a thing is his property, is, that he poWers Powers with greater number, have an interest in conspiring to has the power of using it in a certain way. It is no part of the present inquiry to ascertain respect to protect themselves against the strong. It also apr )ts S S peared, that almost all the things, which man deno- what rights ought to be constituted, or what 'gl ^ p” ^er$ perfect benevolence would choose to see constituted. } minates good, are the fruit of human labour; and wit 1 respect that the natural motive to labour is the enjoyment That belongs to the question how government should to Things, be constituted; in other words, how the powers of its fruits. That the object, then, of the social union, may be which are necessary for the general protection ought obtained ; in other words, that the weak may not be to be distributed, and the advantages of the union deprived of their share of good things, it is neces- to be shared. At present our sole endeavour is to sary to fix, by some determination, what shall be- ascertain the most effectual means which the governlong to each, and to make choice of certain marks ing power of the state can employ for protecting the by which the share of each may be distinguished. rights, whatever they are, which it has seen meet to This is the origin of right. It is created by this sort create. Rights, it must be remembered, always import ob- Every Righs of determination, which determination is either the a act of the whole society, or of some part of the so- ligations. This is a point of view, which, in the con- imports :orr n creature of will. It exists, only because the so- the services of another man, an obligation is, at the ciety, or those who wield the powers of the society, same time, laid upon that man to render those serwill that it should exist; and before it was so willed, vices. If a right is conferred upon one man to use and dispose of a horse, an obligation is laid upon it had no existence. It is easy to see what is the standard, in conform- other men to abstain from using him. It thus apity with which the rights in question ought to be pears, that it is wholly impossible to create a right, constituted; meaning by ought, that which perfect without at the same time creating an obligation. The consequences of this law of nature are in the No Creation benevolence would desire. It is the greatest happiness of the greatest number. But whether rights are highest degree important. Every right is a benefit; a Good, constituted, that is, whether the shares of good command to a certain extent over the objects of de-^J^^^* things are allotted to each, according to this stand- sire. Every obligation is a burthen ; an interdiction Creation of ard, or not according to this standard, the allotment from the objects of desire. The one is in itself a Evil, is still the act of the ruling power of the communi- good ; the other is in itself an evil. It would be dety; and the rights, about which the science of juris- sirable to increase the good as much as possible. prudence treats, have this alone for the cause of But, by increasing the good, it necessarily happens that we increase the evil. And, if there be a certain their existence. The princiIn this complicated term, it is obvious that there point at which the evil begins to increase faster than pal ideas in- is involved, on the one hand, the idea of the person the good, beyond that point all creation of rights is volved in to w|lom a share is allotted, and on the other hand, hostile to human welfare. The end in view is a command over the objects of prudential an ic'ea tlie things which are allotted. The one sense of the is the owner of the right, the person to whom it be- desire. If no rights are established, there is a geneword Right, longs; the other is the object of the right, namely, ral scramble, and every man seizes what he can. A the person or thing over which the right gives cer- man gets so much, and he is interdicted by the scramble from all the rest. If rights are established, tain powers. he also gets so much, and is interdicted by his obliAll rights of course are to objects of human deAll Objects of Rights sire,—of nothing else need shares be allotted. All gations from the rest. If what he obtains by his are things objects which men desire, are desired, either as the rights exceeds what he would have obtained by the desired; and desired end, or as means. The pleasurable state of the scramble, he is a gainer by the obligations which he as'means'^to mind is the end; consisting of the feelings of the sustains. an end. mind. It would be absurd, however, to speak of If it is proposed to create rights in favour of all giving a man a right to the feelings of his own mind. the members of a community, the limits are strict. The objects of desire, therefore, which are the ob- You cannot give all your advantages to every one ; jects of right, are not the pleasurable feelings them- you must share them out. If you do not give equal selves, which are desired as the end, but the objects rights to all, you can only give more than an equal share to some, by diminishing the share of others, which are desired as the means to that end. The Objects Objects of desire, as means to that end, may be of whom, while you diminish the rights, you increase of Rights divided into the class of persons and the class of the obligations. This is the course which bad goare twofold, things. Both may be the object of rights. In vernments pursue; they increase the rights of the few, and diminish the rights of the many, till, in Persons or framing our language, therefore, we may say, that the case of governments virtually despotic, it is all Things. ah rights are the rights of persons ; but rights may right on the one side, all obligation on the other. be to either persons or things.

144 Jurispru dence.

JURISPRUDENCE. That a man’s rights may be effectually secured, it JurispruIt may be necessary to say a word, to prevent dence. misconstruction of the term “ equal rights.” Rights is obviously necessary, in the first place, that they ^p_ . may truly be considered as equal, if all the sorts should be capable of being accurately known. This The firgt of obligation under which a man lies with respect to seems to be so undeniable, that it would answer little Requisite to Protecother men, they are placed under with respect to purpose to enlarge in its illustration. It is, however, the on ^ him ; if all the abstinence which he is obliged to exceedingly necessary that the importance of this re- ^ , practise with respect to their property, they are quisite should be clearly and adequately conceived. ni'J.e them obliged to practise with respect to his; if all the How can a man’s rights be protected from encroach- capable of rules by which he is bound not to interfere with their ment,if what are his rights be uncertain or unknown ? being actions bind them equally not to interfere with his. If the boundary by which his rights are distinguished known, It is evident, that inequality of fortune is not excluded is clear and conspicuous, it is in itself a protection. by equality of rights. It is also evident, that, from It warns off invaders; it serves to strike them with equality of rights must always be excepted those who awe ; for it directs the eyes and indignation of manare entrusted with the powers of the community for kind immediately and certainly to the offender. the purposes of government. They have peculiar Where the boundary, on the other hand, is obscure rights, and the rest of the community are under cor- and uncertain, so far scope is allowed for encroachresponding obligations. It is equally evident that ment and invasion. When the question, to which those must be excepted who are not sui juris, as of two men an article of property belongs, comes for children in non-age, who must be under the guid- decision to the judge, the question is easy, if accuance of others. Of two such classes of persons the rate marks are fixed, to point out and determine the relation to one another, that is, their reciprocal rights of each. If no marks are attached, or such rights and obligations, need to be regulated by par- only as are obscure and variable, the decision must be arbitrary and uncertain. To that extent the beticular rules. It is presumed that these illustrations will suffice nefit derived from the creation and existence of to fix, in the minds of our readers, the exact meaning rights is diminished. It is, therefore, demonstrable, and we may say de- definition ot which is intended, in the present discourse, to be attached to the word rights. The sequel is to be oc- monstrated (the demonstration not being difficult), cupied in discovering the means which are most pro- that, in the inquiry respecting the means of protect- ment of per to be employed for affording protection to those ing rights, the Definition of Rights may be entered Protection, at the head of the list. Without this, as the groundrights. Meaning of In the term protection, it is hardly necessary to work, all other means are ineffectual. In proportion the Word give notice, that we do not here mean protection as rights can be ascertained, are the judicial funcProtection, against foreign enemies; that protection which is to tions, and judicial apparatus, capable of being emnruiTnt'al15" by employing armies against invaders. ployed to any beneficial purpose. In proportion to the Phrase, Pro-The protection, of which it is the business of juris- facility with which they can be ascertained, is the tection of prudence to find out, and to describe the means, is extent of the benefit which the judicial functions Rights. which is required by one member of the comare enabled to secure. Such, then, is the first of the means necessary for munity against the other members. The members of the community, each of whom endeavours to have the protection of rights. That they may receive the as much as possible of the objects of desire, will be most perfect possible protection, they must be as acdisposed to take those objects one from another ; to curately as possible defined. In supposing that rights have need of protection, Definition of take them, either by force, or by fraud. The means of 16 Acts b >’ preservation are, therefore, to be found. Certain we suppose that there are acts by which rights are A . members of the community, as organs of government, violated. With regard to those acts, the object is are L are furnished with powers for that purpose. The twofold; to redress the evil of the act when it has yjoiate(j5 question is, what powers are required; and in what taken place ; and to prevent the performance of such and the Apacts in future. To prevent the performance, two plication of manner are they to be employed ? In proceeding to present what may be called a classes of means present themselves ; to watch till sort of skeleton map of the ill* explored country of the act is about to be committed, and then to inter- another InJurisprudence, it is necessary to warn the peruser, pose ; or, to create motives which shall prevent the stmment of that he must supply, by his own attention, what the will to commit. It is but a small number of cases in Protection, limits of the work did not permit to be done for him. which the first can be done ; the latter is, therefore, The several topics are rather indicated, than ex- the grand desideratum. From the view of these cirpounded. It is hoped they are indicated so clearly, cumstances, we discover two other articles in the cathat there will be no difficulty in spreading out the talogue of means. Those acts by which rights are ideas in detail. It is necessary, however, that the violated require to be made accurately known; in reader should do this for himself. As the writer has other words, to be defined ; and the motives which not been able to dwell upon the several topics, are fitted to prevent them must be duly applied. though of the utmost importance, long enough to Motives sufficient to that end can only be found in stamp the due impression of them upon the mind; the painful class; and the act by which they are apunless the reader takes time to do this, by reflection plied is denominated punishment. The definition, on each topic, as it arrives, he will pass to the suc- therefore, of offences, or of the acts by which rights ceeding ones without due preparation, and the whole are violated, and which it is expedient to punish ; and the definition of the penalties by which they are will be perused without interest and without profit. T VOL. V. PART I.

146 JURISPRUDENCE. Jurispru- opposed, are not less necessary than the definition another; or it may extend to the power of doing Jurispru. _^encc^ of rights themselves. The reasons which demon- with him as he pleases. In like manner, the rights dencestrate this necessity are so nearly the same with those of a man with respect to a person may extend only which demonstrate the necessity of the definition of to some momentary service, or they may go the rights, that we deem it unnecessary to repeat them. length of slavery. Even slavery itself does not imCiviJ and The definition of rights constitutes that part of law ply rights always equally extensive. In some cases, Penal Codes, which has been generally denominated the civil code. however, it implies rights as extensive over the slave What. rpi-ie definition of offences and punishments consti* as over the inferior animals. tutes that other part of law which has been generally All rights, when the essence of them is spoken of, denominated the criminal or penal code. are powers; powers to an individual which the goCode of Pro- When rights are distributed, and the acts by which verning members of the community guarantee; powers cedure,— they may be violated are forbidden, an agency is re- more or less extensive, of making either a person or What. quired, by which that distribution may be maintain- a thing subservient to the gratification of a desire. ed, and the violators of it punished. That agency is To be made to gratify the desire of an individual, is denominated judicature. The powers, by which that to be made to render him a service. And this term agency is constituted, require to be accurately de- may, fortunately, be applied to both persons and fined ; and the mode in which the agency itself is to things. A man receives a service from the field be carried on must be fixed and pointed out by clear when it produces a crop, as well as from the servant and determinate rules. These rules and definitions and the horse who ploughed it. In one meaning of prescribe the form and practice of the courts, or the word service, it implies only active service, or mode in which the judicial functions are performed ; that rendered by the voluntary operations of sentient and constitute that branch of law which has been beings. In the present case, however, it is employcalled the code of procedure. ed to denote both active and passive services. It is Corpus Ju. These three codes, the civil code, the penal code, evident, that in every case in which a being inanim, or Body and code of procedure, form together the whole sub- mate is rendered subservient to the gratification of WhatW’— ject jur^sPru^ence’ Of the three, it sufficiently a desire, the service is, properly speaking, a passive appears, that the last exists only for the sake of the service. It is also evident, that even animate preceding. Courts and their operations are provid- beings are rendered subservient to the gratification ed that the provisions of the civil and penal codes of desires in a way which may equally be called may not be without their effect. It is to be con- passive. sidered, therefore, as subordinate, and merely instruIt is necessary to request attention to the explanamental, in respect to the other two. They form the tion which is here given of the meaning in which the main body of the law; this is an accessary to the term service is to be employed; as both the English main body, though an accessary of indispensable use. and the Roman lawyers use it in a very restricted It would be of great advantage to affix characteris- sense. Here it is employed to denote the whole of tic names to distinguish from one another the main that ministration to the gratification of our desires, and accessary parts of law. Unexceptionable names, which we are entitled, in consequence of rights, to however, it is not easy to find. Mr Bentham, the derive either from persons or from things. Rights great improver of this branch of knowledge, has call- are powers, and the powers are means for the obed the civil and penal codes together, by the name taining of services. We have now, therefore, a lanof “ substantive law,” the code of procedure by that guage, by the help of which we may speak with toof “ adjective law not, we may be satisfied, be- lerable clearness. cause he approved of these names, but because the Our object is to define rights, and rights are powlanguage hardly afforded others to which equal ob- ers. But these powers can be defined, only by a rejections would not apply. In the very sense in which ference to the services which they are the means of either the term accessary, or the term adjective can obtaining. be applied to the code of procedure, both may be The first thing, therefore, to be done for the defi- Operations applied to the penal code, as it respects the civil. nition of rights is, to make out a list of all the kinds preliminary The penal code exists purely for the sake of the of services, which the legislature permits an indivicivil; that the rights, which are ordained by the le- dual to derive, first, from persons, and secondly, j{^r}lts. gislature, and marked out by the terms of the code, from things. This would not be a matter of very ° may be saved from infringement. The civil code is great difficulty. It would be right to begin with the therefore the end and object of all the rest. The most simple cases, and go on to the more complex. code of procedure, however, is auxiliary to each of Thus, in the services derivable from a person, some the other two ; the penal code to no more than one. are limited to a single species of act, and that withHaving now explained the nature of the three in a limited time, and at a particular place. Others codes which constitute the body of law necessary for are services, consisting of various acts, limited or the protection of rights, it remains that we illustrate, not limited in space and time. And lastly, are the as much in detail as our limits will permit, what is whole services which a man is capable of renderrequired for the perfection of each. ing ; without limitation as to either space or time. Considerable pains would be necessary to make Wfiat is re- The grand object of the civil code is the definition the list complete; and not only considerable pains, quired for of rights. Rights are sometimes more sometimes less but considerable logic would be necessary, to clastion^of the extens*ve* Thus the right of a man to a horse may sify the services, in other words, make them up Civil Code. s0!ety extend to use him in riding from one stage to into lots, the most convenient for the purpose in

JURISPRUDENCE. 147 JuHspru- question ; and to fix the extent of each by an exact of chattels personal is liable to remainders, if creat- Jurispiujlence^ definition. It is obvious, that as soon as all the posed by will, to jointenancy, and to tenancy in com- dencesible gradations, in the services which one human be- mon.” ing can render to another, are exhibited by such Of articles of property, different from land, the serenumeration and assortment, it is easy for the legis- vices derivable from a great number need not be dilature to point out exactly whatever portion of these vided under many heads. A piece of plate, for examservices it is its will to give any individual a right ple, may render certain services without alteration to. of its form ; others it may be incapable of rendering The same considerations apply to the class of without alteration of its form. It is chiefly, there things. In being made subservient to the gratifica- fore, by limitation of time, that the various quantities tion ot our desires, they also render services. In pro- of interest in such articles need to be determined. portion as a man has the right to derive those ser- A man s right may extend to the use of a silver cup, vices from them, they are said to be his property. for a day, or a year, or for his life. During this The whole of the services, which are capable of be- time the different services which it is capable of rening derived from them, may, without much difficulty, dering have no occasion to be divided. They go be enumerated and classified ; and when they are so, naturally altogether. An unlimited right to its serthose which it may be the pleasure of the legislature vices implies the power of using it, either with or to make any one’s property, may be very easily and without alteration of its form, and without limitation distinctly pointed out. of time. In most of the instances the limited right We may take land for an example. All the dif- would be called loan, though, in the case of heirferent services which are capable of being derived looms and some others, there is a limited use to from the land may be enumerated, and, being clas- which the term loan is not customarily applied. sed under convenient heads, may be referred to with In speaking of the rights which a man may have perfect certainty; and any portion of them, which is to persons ; as master, as father, as husband, and so made the property of any individual, may thus be on ; there is one case so remarkable, that it requires accurately described. A man may have a right a few words to be added in its explanation. It is that simply to pasture a field; to pasture it for a day, or of one’s own person. In this case the rights of the ina year, or a hundred years. He may have a right dividual have no proper limitation beyond the oblito crop it; and that either in a particular manner, or gations under which he is laid, in consequence, either in any manner he pleases; for a year, or for any of the rights conferred upon others, or of the means other time. He may have a right to use it for any which are thought necessary for the protection of purpose, and that during a limited time, or an unli- those rights. mited time. The services which it is capable of renIf we have enabled our readers to form a toleradering may belong to him only in common with a ble conception of what we desire to be accomplishnumber of other persons, or they may all belong to ed, under the title of an enumeration, and commohimself. dious classification of the services derivable from In illustration of this subject we may notice a persons and things, we have performed what we proclassification of the services derivable from the land, posed. Hie enumeration and classification, themmade, though very rudely, by the English law. selves, are evidently incommensurate with the design Blackstone, who, like other English lawyers, has on of an article in the present work. That they are this, as on all other occasions, no idea of any other practicable may be confidently taken for granted. classification, than that which is made by the techni- In fact, they amount to nothing more than a decal terms of the English law, has distinguished cer- scription of the different degrees in which the protain lots of the services derivable from the land, un- perty of a thing may be possessed; a point which is der the name of “ Estates therein; Estates with re- decided upon in every legal dispute. If this be done, spect to, 1st, Quantity of interest; 2c%, Time of en- from time to time, for one article after another, it joyment ; Sdly, Number and connection of the te- may be done once for all. nants.” These accordingly are, estates in fee simWe have already said, that rights are powers, ple, comprehending the whole of the services which powers for the obtaining of certain services. We are capable of being derived from the land, unlimit- have also said, that those powers can be defined oned in point of time; estates in fee tail, implying ly by a reference to the services which they are the always limitation in point of time, and often a limita- means of obtaining. When those services are enution in respect to some of the services; estates for merated and classified, what remains is easy. A years ; estates at will; estates at sufferance ; estates right to these services must begin; and it must end. on condition ; estates in remainder; estates in rever- The legislature has only to determine what fact shall sion ; estates in jointenancy ; estates in coparcenary; be considered as giving a beginning to each right, estates in common. The Roman law has made no and what shall be considered as putting an end to enumeration or classification of the services deriva- it, and then the whole business is accomplished. ble from any thing, not even from the land. It It is evident that, for the definition of rights, two qv,, Things speaks of property in the abstract, and in two states; things are necessary. The first is, an exact descrip- necessary for property in possession, and property in action. The tion of the extent of the right; the second is, the A10 DefiniEnglish law does the same thing in regard to all description of the fact which gives birth to it. The^nh®f.^_ other property but the land. “ Property, in chattels extent of the right is described by reference to the First, a Depersonal, is either in possession or in action,” says lots of services, in the title to which services, all scnption of Blackstone. He does, indeed, add, “ The property rights consist. The facts, which the convenientits Extent,

JURISPRUDENCE. 148 Jurispru- enjoyment of rights has pointed out as the fittest for termined the persons to whom the rights which a CK dence. giving commencement to rights, have been pretty man possessed without limitation of time shall pass _r- ' ^_. at his death. The will of the former owner, when well ascertained from the earliest period of society ; expressed, is commonly allowed to settle the matter. n™H’nn and there has, in fact, been a very great conformity When that is not expressed, it has by most legislaOf the Facts with respect to them in the laws of all nations, which give The following is an imperfect enumeiation of tors been regulated, that his rights shall pass to it a Begin. t]rem . jn expression of the mil of the legislature, his next of kin. mng and an wjien jt makes any disposition with regard to proWhat is the extent of each right; by what event it shall receive its commencement; and by what event perty ; Occupancy, when a man takes what belongs to nobody ; Labour ; Donation ; Contract; Succes-^ it shall be terminated ;—this is all which is necessary sion. Of these six causes of the commencement of to be pre-determined with respect to it. To do this a right there is a remarkable distinction between the is the duty of the legislature. When it is done, the Does such first three and the last three, ihe first three give inquiry of the judge is clear and simple. r commencement to a right in favour of one individu- a right belong to such a man ? i his question alal, without necessarily putting an end to a right ways resolves itself into two others. Did any of the enjoyed by any other individual. Ihe last three give events, which give commencement to a right, hapcommencement to a right in favour of one individual, pen in this case ? And did any of those events which only by making the same right to cease in favour ot terminate a right not happen in this case? Ihese another individual. When a man, by donation, gives are questions of fact, as distinguished from law; and a horse to another man, the horse ceases to be the are to be determined by the production of evidence. property of the one man, by the very same act by If a man proves that an event which gives comwhich he becomes the property of the other; so in mencement to a right happened in his case, and if another man cannot prove that an event which terthe case of sale, or any other contract.^ It is necessary for the legislature, in order that minates a right happened subsequently in that case, each man may know what are the objects of desire the right of the first man is established. If we have now ascertained the importance and which he may enjoy, to fix, not only what are the facts which shall give commencement to a right, but practicability of a civil code, and have shown what what are the facts which shall put an end to it. In is to be done in order to obtain the benefit ot it, we respect to these facts, also, there is a great harmony shall conclude, with some confidence, that we have rendered a great service to mankind. We proceed in the laws of all nations. There is first the will of the legislature. When it to the consideration of the penal code. 1 he obconfers a right, it may confer it, either for a limited, ject of that code is, the acts by which rights may be or for an unlimited time. In the term unlimited violated. time, we include the power of tradition, or transfer, In the term violation, we include all those acts by What is ne* in all its shapes. If the time is limited, by the deS r claration of the legislature, either to a ceitain num- which the powers, conveyed by a right, are prevented ^ p Jr£. ber of years, or the life of the party, the fact which from operating according to the will of the owner. . tion of ^ With respect to a part of such acts, all that it is Penal Code, terminates the right is obvious. If a man possesses found convenient to do, through the instrumentality a right, unlimited in point of time, the events are three by which it has been commonly fixed that it of judicature, is, to remove the obstruction, which may be terminated; some expression of his own will, prevents the enjoyment of the right, without inflictin the way of gift or contract; some act of delin- ing any penalty for creating it. Thus, if a debt is not paid when due, the right is violated of the man quency ; or his death. The possessor of a right, unlimited in point of who ought to receive it. Enough, however, is in time, may, in the way of gift or contract, transfer this case supposed to be done, if the man, by whom his right either for a limited or for an unlimited the debt is due, is constrained to make payment. The time. Thus the owner of a piece of land may lease act of secretly abstracting, with a view to appropriate it for a term of years. He may also, in this way, a property, perhaps, of less value, would be an act convey the whole of the services which it is capable which the laws of all nations would punish as theft. Of injurious acts, those alone, to the commission of rendering, or only a part of them. In this transaction, one event gives birth to a right in favour of of which it has been deemed expedient that penalties the man who receives the lease, and terminates^ a should be annexed, are considered as the object of right which was possessed by the man who gives it; the penal code. Of injurious acts so perfect an anaand another event, namely, the arrival of the period lysis has been performed by Mr Bentham; so perassigned for the termination of the lease, terminates fectly, too, have the grounds been laid down upon the right of the man who had received the lease, which those acts which are destined for punishment and revives his former right to the man who gave it. should be selected from the rest; and so accurately Acts of delinquency have been made to terminate have the principles, according to which punishment rights, by the laws of most nations, in the various should be meted out, been displayed by that great philosopher, that, on this part of the subject, the modes of forfeiture and pecuniary penalty. The mode in which the event of death should ter- philosophy of law is not far from complete. As acts are declared to be offences, and are made Aets meet^ minate rights has been variously regulated. Somesubject to punishment, solely for the protection ofn^ntuniS1’ times it has been allowed to terminate them simply; rights, it is evident, that all acts which enter into the and what a man left at his death was open to the first consideration of the penal code, are acts which inoccupant. All but rude nations, however, have de-

JURISPRUDENCE. 149 Jurispru. fringe upon rights, either directly, or indirectly, be judged of ultimately, only by a reference to hu- Jurispmdenee. Those which infringe upon rights directly, are those man feelings. Of these feelings, however, certain ‘knee, by which injury is done to some individual or indi- outward marks must be taken as the standard. In viduals ; a blow, for example, an act of theft, and so offences which concern property the modes of valuaon. We include also, under this division, all acts tion are familiarly known. In injuries to the person, the effects of which infringe immediately upon rights; those marks which denote injuries, regarded by mandestroying a mound, for example, to inundate the kind in general, as differing in magnitude; the size, lands of another man ; importation of infection, by for example, or position, of a wound ; in injuries to which the health or lives of others may be destroyed. reputation, the words used, and the occasion when, Those acts by means of which rights are affected in- and so forth, are the only means of distinction which directly, are those which bear immediately upon the can be employed. It may be necessary also to remark, that, in that means which the state has provided for the protection of rights. The means which the state has pro- part of the definition which relates to the mode, are vided for the protection of rights, are the operations to be distinguished the parties, when more than one, of government generally. All acts, therefore, meet who engage in the same offence with different defor punishment, are acts which disturb either indivi- grees of criminality; meaning, by different degrees duals in the enjoyment of their rights, or the opera- of criminality, nothing more than demand for differtions required for the protection of those rights. The ent degrees of punishment. The chief classes of latter, though mediately, and not immediately hurt- such persons are those of principals and accessaries; ful, are apt to be more extensively mischievous than and of accessaries both those before and those after the former. An act which infringes upon a right the fact. In the definition of the mode, the act is to be deimmediately, is commonly injurious only to one individual, or a small number of individuals; an act scribed in its ordinary shape. The act, however, may which prevents any of the operations of government be attended with aggravating circumstances on the from proceeding in its natural course is injurious to one hand, or extenuating circumstances on the other; all those individuals to whose protection the due presenting a demand for increased punishment in course of that operation is useful. Permit acts which the first case, and diminished punishment in the seinterrupt all the operations of government, and all cond. Mr Bentham has logically remarked, that the circumstances which are to be regarded as agrights are practically destroyed. gravating, and the circumstances which are to be reIf, as it thus appears, acts are meet for punishment, only because they infringe upon a right, or be- garded as extenuating, being pretty nearly the same cause they interrupt the operations provided for the in all cases, they maybe defined, in a separate chapter, protection of rights, it is evident, that, in the defini- once for all. This being done, the code proceeds tion of one part of those acts, must be included the in the following manner :—The definition is given of specification of the right which is infringed; and, in the offence in its ordinary shape, and the appropriate the definition of the other, must be included the spe- punishment is annexed; then immediately follows cification of the operation disturbed. Before, there- the same offence with aggravating circumstances; fore, an accurate penal code can exist, there must punishment so much the more severe; the same ofexist an accurate civil code, and also what we may fence with extenuating circumstances ; punishment call a constitutional or political code ; the latter con- so much the less. Thus far we have spoken of the definition of ofsisting of an accurate definition of the powers created for the purposes of government, and of the limitations fences, into which we have entered the less in detail, because we do not think there is much of conapplied to their exercise. What is re- From what has been said, it may appear, that the troversy on the subject. Many persons, who doubt quired to the definition of offences, by which name we shall here- the possibility of framing a civil code, though, after Definition of after distinguish punishable acts, consists necessarily the preceding exposition of the subject, it is a doubt : an Offence. of tw0 parts> The first part is the specification of which could not, we should imagine, very easily the right infringed, or the operation of government maintain itself, allow, that offences may all be defindisturbed; and the second part is the definition of ed ; and that it is possible to prevent the monstrous the mode. Thus, for the definition of an act of iniquity of punishing men for acts or offences which theft, the right which the act has violated must be they have not the means of knowing to be so. After offences comes the consideration of the pu- The Doedistinctly marked, and also the mode in which the tr 1I e Pu violation has been made. In the same class of of- nishment to be annexed to them. This is a subject ms. ? men * " fences ; as those against property, for example ; the of considerable detail; it has been, however, so fulmode in which the violation is performed is that ly and admirably treated by Mr Bentham, that only chiefly which constitutes the difference between one some of the more general considerations, necessary offence and another. In a theft and a robbery, for to mark out the place and importance of the topic, example, the right violated may be exactly the same; need here to be introduced. When a right has been infringed, there are two the mode in which the violation was effected constithings, it is evident, which ought to be done : The tutes the difference. For several purposes of the penal code, it is useful, injury which has been sustained by the individual that, in the specification of the right violated, the ought to be repaired ; And means ought to be taken value of what has been violated, in other words, the to prevent the occurrence of a like evil in future. The doctrine of Satisfaction is not at all difficult. Satisfaction, amount of the evil sustained, should sometimes be included. It is evident, that the value of rights can as far as regards the regulating principles ; the com-

150 JURISPRUDENCE. Jurispru- plication is all in the detail. The greater number of injurious acts; either, first, to take away the motives Jurisprudence. injuries are those which concern property. A pecu- which provoke to them; or, secondly, to apply moniary value can generally be set upon injuries of this tives sufficient for the prevention of them. From the very nature of many of the acts it is sort; though it is not very easy to determine the pretiinn affectionis, a matter of considerable import- impossible to take away the motives which provoke ance, which the English law, so much made up of to them, from property stolen it is impossible to clumsiness in one part, and false refinement in ano- detach the value of the property; from vengeance it ther, wholly overlooks. For injuries to the person, is impossible to detach the hope of that relief which also, it is most frequently in the pecuniary shape is sought by the blow that is aimed. What is wanted, then, is a sufficiency of motive in alone that any compensation can be made. In making these estimates, some general marks are all that each instance to counteract the motives which lead can be conveniently defined by the law, and a consi- to the crime. Whatever the motives, of the allurderable discretion must be left to the judge. Indeed, ing kind, which lead to an act, if you give stronger the question of damages is always a question of fact, motives of the same kind to abstain from the act, which must be determined by the evidence adduced the act will, of course, be prevented. The man who would steal from you L. 5 will assuredly not do so, to the individual instance. It accords with the feelings of every man to say, if he knows that he shall receive L. 6 for abstainthat he who has committed an injury, should be ing. The question may then be started, Why should made to repair it. One part of punishment, therefore, ought, wherever special reason does not forbid, not all crimes be prevented in this way, since reward to consist in making satisfaction to the party injured. is much more desirable and humane than punishment ? Pecuniary satisfaction, where the delinquent is rich, The answer is most satisfactory, and is built upon a may be a small part of the due punishment.; still, how- ground which ought to receive profound attention ever, there is an obvious propriety, in making it a on many occasions on which it is treated with the part so far as it can go. In the cases in which the most perfect disregard. No reward can be given to delinquent has no property, there is the same pro- one man, or set of men, but at the expence of some priety in making his labour subservient to that end. other man or set of men. What is reward to one is Hard labour, with the most economical fare, till the therefore punishment to others. If L. 6 be given to produce of the labour equals the amount of the sa- the man who would steal L. 5, it must be taken from tisfaction required, is, therefore, a species of punish- some one or more individuals of the community. If ment recommended by the strongest considerations. one man is elevated by any title or distinction, all It is not said that labour so limited would always be the rest are with regard to him degraded and desufficient punishment, and there are many cases in pressed. This is utterly unavoidable. The one which it would be too much; but even then it event is necessarily included in the other. The givshould go as far as it can in the one case, and as far ing of rewards, therefore, is a matter of serious consideration. It is not that simple act, that pure effuas it ought in the other. When the injury is done to reputation, there is a sion of humanity, which it is often so fraudulently manifest propriety in making the injurer contribute given out to be, and so credulously and foolishly adto the reparation, wherever it can be done. In mitted to be. Other reasons, which prove the insufficiency of remany of the cases, too, the proper mode is abundantly obvious; all those, for example, where the pub- wards for preventing injurious acts, are too obvious to lication of falsehood is the injurious act. The au- require to be mentioned. We shall not therefore dwell thor of the injury may, in a way as public as that of upon this topic. This at least is sufficiently evident, the offence, and as well calculated as possible for the that, to counteract the motives which lead to the reparation of the injury, be obliged to declare that commission of an act, we have but two methods. If he has been solemnly adjudged to have propagated we cannot apply motives, of the pleasurable sort, to a falsehood, and is condemned to .publish his own induce the party to abstain from committing the act, we must apply such motives, of the painful sort, as shame. In the case of those offences which affect rights will outweigh those which prompt to the performindirectly, namely, by affecting the securities pro- ance. To prevent, by such means, a theft of L. 5, vided for them, satisfaction seldom can have any it is absolutely necessary to affix to that act a degree place, because not any determinate individual or in- of punishment which shall outweigh the advantage of possessing L. 5. dividuals have sustained an injury. We have now, it is evident, obtained the principle Thus much may suffice, in exposition of the first thing which is desirable, where an injury has been by which punishment ought to be regulated. We decommitted ; namely, that reparation should be made. sire to prevent certain acts. That is our end, and The second is, that measures should be adopted for the whole of our end. We shall assuredly prevent preventing the future occurrence of similar events. any acts, if we attach to them motives of the painActs are performed, only because there are moful kind, sufficient to outweigh the motives of the opPunishtives to the performance of them. Of course inju- posite kind which lead to the performance. If we ment. rious acts are performed, only because there are mo- apply a less quantity of evil than is sufficient for outweighing those motives, the act will still be performtives to the performance of them. Corporal restraint being out of the question with ed, and the evil will be inflicted to no purpose ; it will regard to all the members of the community, it is be so much suffering in waste. If we apply a greatevident that only two means remain for preventing er quantity of evil than is necessary, we incur a si-

J U R I S P R Jurispra- milar inconvenience ; we create a quantity of evil dence. which is absolutely useless; the act, which it is the tendency of the motives of the pleasurable kind to produce, will be prevented, if the motives of the painful kind outweigh them in the smallest degree, as certainly as if it outweigh them to any degree whatsoever. As soon, therefore, as the legislator has x*eached that point, he ought immediately to stop. Every atom of punishment which goes beyond is so much uncompensated evil, so much human misery created without any corresponding good. It is pure unmingled mischief. As no exact measure, indeed, can be taken of the quantity of pain which will outweigh a supposed quantity of pleasure, it is always necessary to risk going somewhat beyond the mark, in order to make sure of not falling short of it. And, in the case of acts of which the evil is very great; of the higher order of crimes, in short; it may be expedient to risk a considerable degree of excess in order to make sure of reaching the point of efficiency. In estimating the quantity of evil which it may be necessary to create, in order to compensate the motive which leads to a mischievous act, two circumstances should be taken into the account. These are, certainty and proximity. It is of the less importance here to enter far into the illustration of these topics, that they are now pretty generally understood. It is well known that the prospect of an evil which is to happen within an hour, or tw'o hours, produces a much greater uneasiness than the prospect of the very same evil removed to the distance of years. Every man knows that he will die within a certain number of years ; many are aware that they cannot live beyond a few years; and this knowledge produces no uneasiness. The effort, on the other hand, which enables a man to behave with tranquillity, on the prospect of immediate death, is supposed to be so difficult, that it is this which makes the hero. It is, therefore, of the greatest importance, that punishment should be immediate; because, in that case, a much smaller quantity of evil suffices. It is imperatively required, by the laws of benevolence, that, if evil is a necessary means to our end, every expedient should be used to reduce it to the smallest quantity possible. It is cruelty ; it belongs only to a malignant nature ; to apply evil in a way which demands a quantity of it greater than would otherwise have been required. Suppose a law, that no act of theft should be punished or challenged till twenty years after the commission, or till the life of the thief was supposed to be near its end. It is evident that all punishment, in this case; that death, in the greatest torture, would be nearly destitute of power. This is partly the ground of the complaint, of the little efficacy of religious punishment, though dreadful beyond expression in the degree. The want of certainty is a defect of equal importance. If it is a matter of doubt, whether a threatened evil will take place, the imagination is prone to magnify the chance of its not happening; and, by indulgence, magnifies it to such a degree, that the opposite chance at last excites a comparatively feeble influence. This is a remarkable law of human nature, from the influence of which even the most

U D E N C E. " lot wise and prudent of men are not exempt; and of Jurispruwhich the influence is predominant in those inconsi- dencederate minds which are the most apt to give way to ^ the allurements of vice. To illustrate this law, the influence of the religious punishments affords the most instructive of all examples. The punishments themselves go far beyond what the imagination can conceive. It is the complaint of divines, and the observation of all the world, that, with the great body of men, the efficacy of them is exceedingly smalL The reason is, that to the want of proximity is added the greatest uncertainty. If a man puts his finger in the candle, he knows that he will be punished, and immediately, by being burned. If a man commits even a heinous sin, he has no fear of receiving the religious punishment immediately, and he conceives that, in the mercy of his Judge, in repentance and faith, he has a chance of escaping it altogether. This chance his imagination exaggerates, and most men can, in this way, go on sinning with tranquillity, to the end of their days. If all punishments were as certain and immediate as that of putting a finger in the candle, the smallest quantity, it is evident, beyond what would form a counterbalance to the advantage of the forbidden act, would suffice for its prevention. If uncertainty is admitted, to any considerable degree, no quantity of evil will suffice. It is a fact, which experience has most fully established, and which is now recognized in the most vulgar legislation, that undue severity of punishment runs counter to its end. This it does by increasing uncertainty; because men are indisposed to be the instruments of inflicting evil by which their feelings are lacerated. That legislation, therefore, is bad, which does not take measures for the greatest possible degree of proximity and certainty in the punishments which it applies. The sources are three, from which motives of the painful sort, applicable to the purposes of the legislator, are capable of being drawn :—1. The physical; 2dly, The moral; and, Sdly, The religious. I. Pains from the physical source may be com? municated to a man through, 1. His person, 2. His connections, 3. His property. Through his person, they may be communicated in four principal ways,—by death, disablement, restraint and constraint, simple pain. A man’s connections are either public or private; private, as spouse, parent, servant, master, &c.; public, as ruler, subject, teacher, scholar, and so on. The modes in which a man is punished through his property need no explanation. II. Pains, from the moral source, are the pains which are derived from the unfavourable sentiments of mankind. For the strength of the pains, derived from this source, we must refer to the writers who have treated of this part of human nature. It is sufficient here to advert to what is universally recognized, that these pains are capable of rising to a height, with which hardly any other pains, incident to our nature, can be compared; that there is a cer-

152 J U RI S P R Jurispru- tain degree of the unfavourable sentiments of his dence. fellow creatures, under which hardly any man, not below the standard of humanity, can endure to live. The importance of this powerful agency for the prevention of injurious acts, is too obvious to need to be illustrated. If sufficiently at command, it would almost supersede the use of other means. It is, therefore, one of the first objects to the legislator to know, in what manner he can employ the pains of the popular sanction with the greatest possible effect. To know how to direct the unfavourable sentiments of mankind, it is necessary to know in as complete, that is, in as comprehensive a way, as possible, what it is which gives them birth. Without entering into the metaphysics of the question, it is a sufficient practical answer, for the present purpose, to say, that the unfavourable sentiments of men are excited by every thing which hurts them. They love that which gives them pleasure; hate that which gives them pain. Those acts of other men which give them pleasure or save them from pain, acts of beneficence, acts of veracity, and so on, they love. Acts, on the other hand, which give them pain, mendacity, and so on, they hate. These sentiments, when the state of mind is contemplated out of which the acts are supposed to arise, are transformed into approbation and disapprobation, in all their stages and degrees ; up to that ot the highest veneration, down to that of the deepest abhorrence and contempt. The unfavourable sentiments, which the legislator would excite as towards forbidden acts, must, therefore, in each man, arise from his conception of the mischievousness of those acts. That conception depends upon three circumstances; Isf, The view which he himself takes of the act; 2%, The view which appears to be taken by other people; Srf/y, Every thing which operates to render more or less permanently present to his mind his own and other men’s conception of its mischievousness. From these circumstances, the practical rules for applying this great power as an instrument of the legislator for the prevention of mischievous acts are easily deduced. 1. Let the best measures be taken for giving the people a correct view of the mischievousness of the act; and then their unfavourable sentiments will be duly excited. 2. Let proper pains be taken that the people shall know every mischievous act that is committed, and know its author; that, so,, no evil act may, by concealment, escape the punishment which their unfavourable sentiments imply. 3. Let the legislature, as the leading section of the public, make publication of its own unfavourable

u D E N C E. . sentiments ; brand the act with infamy. 4. Let the Junspm. same publication of his own unfavoui’able sentiments ^ be made by the judge in the shape of reprimand and other declarations. 5. The legislature may increase the effect of these declarations, where the case requires it, by symbolical marks; or, 6, by personal exposure. 7. The legislature may so order matters in certain cases, that the mischievous act can be done only through another act already infamous; as when it is more infamous to break a vow to God than to make false declarations to men, a witness may be made to swear that he will tell the truth. 8. As the favourable sentiments of mankind are so powerfully excited towards wealth, a man suffers in this respect when his property is so diminished as to lessen his rank. III. In pointing and proportioning the apprehension of divine punishment, the legislator can do three things: 1. He can declare his own apprehension, and the measure of it, which should be as exactly proportioned as possible to the mischievousness of the acts : 2%, He can hire other people to declare similar apprehensions, and to make the most of the means which are available for their propagation : Sdly, He may discountenance the pointing of religious apprehensions to any acts which are not mischievous ; or the pointing of them to acts which are slightly, in a greater degree, than to acts which are deeply mischievous. Whatever power of restraining from mischievous acts maybe lodged in religious apprehensions, is commonly misapplied and wasted. It would be worth the cost, therefore, of pretty forcible means to prevent such a misapplication and waste of religious fears. * In drawing from one, or more, of all these sources, a lot of punishment adapted to each particular case, the following properties, desirable in a lot of punishment, ought to be steadily borne in view. Every lot of punishment ought, as much as possible, to be, 1. Susceptible of graduation, so as to be applicable in different degrees. 2. Measurable, that the difference of degrees may be duly ascertained. 3. Equable, that is, calculated to operate not with different intensity upon different persons. 4. Such, that the thought of the punishment may naturally excite the thought of the crime. 5. Such, that the conception of it may be naturally vivid and intense. 6. Public, addressed to the senses. 7. Reformative. 8. Disabling; viz. from crime.

* Nothing which can in any degree interfere with the rights of conscience, including whatever interpre a0 tion any man may put upon the words of Scripture, is here understood. It is the object 0 1 e eS,s ^ encourage acts which are useful, prevent acts which are hurtful, to society. But religious hopes and fears are often applied, not to promote acts which are useful, prevent acts which are hurtful, to society ,.m w ic way, alone, they are capable of'conducing to the views of the legislator; but to mere ceremonies. n cases are not wanting in which they are applied to produce acts that are hurtful, prevent those t at are useful, to society. As far as religious motives are attached to the useful, instead of the useless or hurt u o jects, society is benefited. It is this benefit which it is recommended to the legislator to puisue.

JURISPRUDENCE. 153 jurispru9. Remediable ; viz. if afterwards found to be un- that we consider that subsidiary branch of law, by Jurisprudence. deserved. which an agency is constituted for the purpose of dence. carrying those enactments into effect. The inquiry 10. Compensative; viz. to the party injured. 11. Productive; viz. to the community, as labour. here is, what are the operations essential to that Of all the instruments of punishment which have agency; by what agents are they most likely to be yet occurred to the ingenuity of man, there is none well performed ; and what are the best securities which unites these desirable qualities in any thing that can be taken for the good conduct of these like an equal degree with the Panopticon Peniten- agents. It most significantly illustrates the manner in tiary, as devised and described by Mr Bentham. which ignorance gropes its way in the dark, to obOne general rule applies in the case of all the lots of punishment. It is this : That the private good serve, that the agency, the sole end of which is to which has operated as the motive to the injurious ac- carry into execution the civil and penal laws, was tion, should, in all possible cases, be cut oft^ and created first, and was in operation for ages, before the expected enjoyment prevented. Where this can even the idea of the other branches of law was even be done completely, all the additional punishment tolerably framed. It is also worthy of remark, that necessary is only that which would suffice to com- the men, whose wisdom rules our affairs, are in the pensate the want of certainty and proximity in the habit of calling the mode in which ignorance gropes act of deprivation; for no man would commit a its way in the dark, by the name of experience; the crime which he was sure he could not profit by; mode of acting upon a plan, and with foresight, by no man would steal, if he knew that the property the names of theory and speculation. There is instruction in observing the mode in stolen would that minute be taken from him* The interests which are capable of being promoted by a which this inverted course of law-making was purcriminal act, may be summed up under the follow- sued. Men disputed; and their disputes were attended with the most destructive consequences. ing titles : Originally, the king, at the head of the military 1. Money, or money’s worth. force, and his subordinates, each at the head of a 2. Power. section of that force, interfered in those disputes. 3. Revenge, After a time, the king appointed functionaries, under 4. Vanity, emulation. the name of judges, for that particular service. 5. Sensual pleasure, chiefly venereal. These judges decided, without any rule, by their 6. Safety in respect to legal punishment. own discretion. The feelings of the community, With respect to four of these interests, viz. mo- grounded upon their experience of what tended to ney, power, vanity, and safety in respect to legal pu- good and evil upon the whole, pointed vaguely to nishment, the contemplated benefit is capable, in certain things as right, to other things as wrong; many cases, of being completely intercepted. In and to these the judge, as often as he was in bona the case in which revenge has operated through the Jides, conformed his decision. The mode was simidegradation of the party suffering, the evil doer may lar both in arbitrating and in punishing. As punishing, especially in the severer cases, was be disappointed by re-exaltation of the degraded party. Sensual pleasure, having been enjoyed, is an act which made a vivid impression upon the mind, beyond the reach of this operation. It is highly the mode in which that act had been performed in worthy of observation, that, among the advantages previous cases was apt to be remembered; of the seconstituting the motives to crime, those which can veral modes, that which was most approved by the be cut off, and from the enjoyment of which the of- public would naturally be followed the most frefender can be prevented, constitute by far the most quently, and at last there would be a species of scandal, if it was unnecessarily departed from. In this frequent incentives to crime. This must suffice as a summary of what should be way a uniformity, more or less perfect, was estabsaid on the mode of applying pain most usefully for lished, in punishing the more heinous offences; and the prevention of certain acts. It only remains to in regard to them custom first established what had add, that the following are the cases in which it may some feeble portion of the attributes of a law. In those cases in which, without a call for punishbe pronounced unfit that pain should be employed ment, the authoritative termination of a dispute was for that purpose; 1. Where the evil to the community does not all that was required, the experience of what was necessary, not only for any degree of mutual comoverbalance the good to the individual. 2. Where the evil necessary for the punishment fort, but even for the means of subsistence, soon established a few leading points of uniformity. Thus, would outweigh the evil of the act. 3. Where the evil created is not calculated to when a man had cultivated a piece of ground, which belonged to nobody more peculiarly than to himself, prevent the act. 4. Where the end could be obtained by other it was evidently necessary that the crop should be considered as belonging to him ; otherwise, no crops means. would be raised, and the community would be deThe Code of We have now, therefore, stated what the limits of prived of the means of subsistence. Procedure, this discourse enable us to adduce, on the subject of These general feelings, with the remembrance, the main body of the law; the enactments of the le- more or less perfect, of what had been done in simigislature with respect to rights, and with respect to lar cases, were the only guide; and it is surprising those acts by which rights are violated. It remains to what an extent, over the surface of the whole u VOL. v. PART i.

JURISPRUDENCE. 154 Jurispru- globe, law has, in all ages, remained in that state of mined shall give commencement to rights, happened Jurispmdence. imperfect existence, if, indeed, with any propriety, it in such a manner as to give commencement to that denceIn every part of which is claimed as a right by him. can be called a state of existence. If no such fact is affirmed, the right does not exist. Asia, and in all ages, law has remained in that state of existence, or non-existence. In Europe, where, If some such fact is affirmed, it may be met by the at a pretty early period, it became the practice to opponent in one of two ways. B either may deny record in writing the proceedings of the judges, the the fact, and affirm that the right never had a comnatural propensity of referring to the past as a rule mencement; or he may allow the fact, and admit for the present, begat in time a species of obligation that the right had a commencement, but affirm that of being directed by the examples which had al- there had subsequently happened one of those facts ready been set. This created a uniformity and cer- which put an end to rights ; admitting that A bought tainty, which, however imperfect, were greatly supe- the horse, and had a right to him in the month of rior to those which attended the arbitrary proceed- July, he might affirm that A sold him again in Auings of Asiatic judges. Yet this was a benefit gust, and by that transaction put an end to his right. which had a dreadful alloy. A body, not of law, When B meets the affirmation of A in the first but of decisions, out of which, on each particular way, that is, by denying the commencement of the occasion, a law for that particular occasion, as out right, he may do it in either of two ways. He may of the crude ore, was to be smelted, hammered, and deny the investitive fact which A affirms, or not wire-drawn, was the natural material out of which to denying the fact, he may affirm some antecedent fact manufacture a system of chicane. How accurately which deprived it of its investitive power. Thus, the system of law, in the several nations of Europe, if A affirmed that he got the property by occupancy, has conformed to the character of a system of chi- B may affirm that it was not open to occupancy, but cane, is matter of present and lamentable experi- the property of another person. If A affirmed that ence. The uncertainty, the delay, the vexation and he got the property by succession to his father, B expence, and that immorality of the worst species may allow the fact of the succession, but affirm that with which they inundate the community, are not the the property did not belong to the father of A at only evils, great as they are, of laws constructed up- the time of his death. on such a plan. A system of laws, so constructed, Whenever the legislature has accurately deterbecomes an instrument of conservation for the bar- mined what are the facts which shall give commencebarous customs and ideas of the times in which they ment, and what those which shall give termination were engendered ; and infests society with evils of to a right, the whole confused and intricate mass of another age. what in English law is called Pleading, reduces itTo conceive the operations which are necessary self to these clear and simple elements. A begins, to give effect to the enactments of the legislature, it by affirming some one of the facts which gives comis necessary to conceive the occasions which call for mencement to a right. B may deny this fact directthem. ly ; A affirms contract for example, B denies it; and When the legislature has established rights, so then, of course, comes the evidence : Or, instead long as there is no dispute about those rights, and of denying it, B may affirm an antecedent fact which so long as there is no complaint of any violation of deprived the fact affirmed by A of its investitive them, so long there is no occasion for any agency force ; or he may affirm a subsequent fact, which to give to the enactments of the legislature their ef- put an end to the right. In those two cases, in fect. The moment, however, one person says, the which B affirms a new fact, A must be called upon right to that object is mine, and another person says for a reply, in other words, asked whether he admits no, but the right to that object is mine ; or the mo- or denies it. If he admits, there is an end, of course, ment any man complains that such or such a right to the claim of A. If he denies, then again we have belonging to him another man has violated, that mo- affirmation and denial upon a matter of fact, which ment occasion for the agency in question begins. is to be determined by the production of evidence. It is evident, also, that the operations necessary This is the first part of the proceeding, neither to give effect to the enactments of the legislature intricate nor obscure. The next is, the adduction of are confined to those two occasions, namely, that evidence. A fact is disputed; affirmed on the one on which a right is disputed, and that on which it side, denied on the other. A produces evidence to / has been violated. On the occasions on which a prove the fact, B produces evidence to disprove it. right is disputed, it is requisite to determine to whom The decision is on the one side or the other, and it belongs. On the occasions on which a right has the dispute is at an end. been violated, it is sometimes only required to comIf both parties obey the decision, there is no ocpel reparation to the injured party ; sometimes it is casion for another act. If the losing party disobeys, necessary, besides, to inflict punishment upon the force is necessary to compel obedience. This is offender. The question is, What are the operations called execution, and terminates the agency rerequired for these several results ? quired. Where a right is disputed, all possible cases may It is needless to particularize a penal proceeding; be resolved into that of A who affirms, and B who all the possible varieties of which fall under one or denies. That right is mine, says A, it is not yours, other of the cases illustrated. Thus, when a man is charged with a crime, the says B. The first question to be asked of A is, which, prosecutor affirms one of the acts violating rights, to among those facts, which the legislature has deter- which punishment is annexed by the legislator. The

JURISPRUDENCE. 155 Jurispru- defendant can meet this affirmation in one of only B is asked whether he denies it; or whether he af- Jttrispmdence. tw0 wayS. First, he may deny the act, and then firms another fact, either one of those, which, hap- dence. i the second stage of proceeding, the adduction of pening previously, would prevent it from having its '*0*^'~**~' evidence, immediately takes place. Or, not denying investitive effect, or one of those which, happening the act, he may affirm some previous act, which pre- subsequently, would put an end to the right to which vented it from having the effect of violating a right. it gave commencement. If he affirmed only a fact Not denying the fact of taking the horse out of the which could have neither of these effects, the prefield with a view to appropriate him, he may affirm tension of B would be without foundation. a previous purchase, gift, &c. The adduction of Done in this manner, the clearness, the quickness, evidence has nothing peculiar in the case of a penal, and the certainty of the whole proceeding are deproceeding at law. In the last stage, that of exe- monstrated. Remarkable it is, that every one of the cution, the peculiar act of inflicting punishment is rules for doing it in the best possible manner, is derequired. parted from by the English law, and that to the Having thus a view, though very summary, of the greatest possible extent. No security whatsoever is operations required, we shall be the better able to taken that the parties shall speak the truth ; they judge of the agents necessary for the performance. are left with perfect impunity, aptly by Mr Ber»The stages, we have observed, are three. The tham denominated the mendacity-licence^ to tell as Jirst is that in which the plaintiff adduces the inves- many lies as they please. The legislature has never titive fact on which he relies, and is met by the de- enumerated and defined the facts which shall give fendant either with a denial of the fact, or the affir- commencement, or put a period to rights ; the submation of another fact, which, to maintain the suit, ject, therefore, remains in a state of confusion, obthe plaintiff must deny. The second is that in which scurity, and uncertainty. And, lastly, the parties do evidence, to prove or disprove the fact on which the not make their affirmations and negations before the affirmation and denial of the parties ultimately rests, judge, who would tell them whether the facts which is adduced and decided upon. The third is that in they allege could or could not have the virtue aswhich the operations are performed necessary for cribed to them; they make them in secret, and in giving effect to the sentence of the judge. writing, each along with his attorney, who has an First stage What is desirable in the operations of the first interest in making them not in the way most conduof the Judi- stage is, \st, That the affirmations and negations with cive to the interests of his client, but in the way most cial Busi- reSpect to the facts should be true ; and, Zdly, That conducive to his own interests, and those of his conthe facts themselves should be such as really to have federates, from the bottom to the top of the profesthe investitive or divestitive quality ascribed to them. sion. First, A, the plaintiff, writes what is called the For the first of these purposes, all the securities, declaration, an instrument for the most part full of which the nature of the case admits of, should be irrelevant absurdity and lies; and this he deposits in taken, for the veracity of the parties. There is the an office, where the attorney of B, the defendant, same sort of reason that the parties should speak obtains a copy of it, on paying a fee. Next B, the truly, as that the witnesses should speak truly. They defendant, meets the declaration of A, by what is should speak, therefore, under all the sanctions and called a plea, the form of which is not less absurd penalties of a witness. They cannot, indeed, in many than that of the declaration. The plea is written cases swear to the existence or non-existence of the and put into the same office, out of which the attorfact; which may not have been within their cognis- ney of the opposite party obtains a copy of it on siance. But they can always swear to the state of milar terms. The plea may be of two sorts ; either, their belief with respect to it. For the second of 1st, a dilatory plea, as it is called ; or, 2dly, a plea to the above purposes, namely, that it may be known the action. To this plea the plaintiff may make a whether the facts affirmed and denied are such as to replication, proceeding through the same process. possess the investitive or divestitive quality ascribed To the replication the defendant may put in a reto them, two things are necessary ; the first is, that joinder. The plaintiff may answer the rejoinder by all investitive and divestitive facts should have been a sur-rejoinder. This, again, the defendant may opclearly predetermined by the legislature, in other pose by a rebutter, and the plaintiff may answer him words, that there should be a well made civil code ; by a sur-rebutter. the second is, that the affirmations and denials with All this takes place without being once seen or respect to them should be made in the presence of heard of by the judge; and no sooner has it come besomebody capable of telling exactly whether they fore him, than some flaw is perhaps discovered in it, have the quality ascribed to them or not. The judge whereupon he quashes the whole, and sends it to be is a person with this knowledge, and to him alone performed again from the beginning. can the power of deciding on matters so essential to This mischievous mess, which exists in defiance the result of the inquiry be entrusted. and mockery of reason, English lawyers inform us, To have this important part of the business, then, is a strict, and pure, and beautiful exemplification of done in the best possible way, it is necessary that the rules of logic. This is a common language of the parties should meet in the very first instance in theirs. It is a language which clearly demonstrates the presence of the judge. A is asked, upon his the state of their minds. All that they see in the oath, to mention the fact which he believes confers system of pleading is the mode of performing it. upon him his right. If it is not a fact capable of What they know of logic is little more than the having that effect, he is told so, and his claim is at name. at end. If it is a fact capable of having that effect, The agency necessary for the performance of this-.

JURISPRUDENCE. 156 Into the question of what might be, and ought to JurispruJurispru- stage of the business, is some person, who, when he dence. hears a fact affirmed or denied, can tell whether it is be done by the legislature, for making and preserv- ^ence. / mm one of those facts to which the legislature has at- ing evidence of the principal facts by which rights ‘ ' ~ are made to begin or to end, we cannot enter at tached the power of giving commencement or of putting a period to rights. It is evident, that on such oc- length, on the present occasion. The great importcasion, any one person, with the requisite knowledge, ance which belongs to the subject, is evident from attention, and probity, is as competent to the task as what we have thus shortly advanced. The business of him who is only called upon to a hundred. If he is single, the attention and probity is likely to be the greatest, as responsibility is determine whether a disputed fact did or did not not weakened merely, it is almost annihilated by be- happen, is, to make the best use of all the evidence ing shared. There should be one judge, therefore, which exists; whether it were, or were not desirand not more, to superintend that branch of proce- able, that more had been made to exist. For the best use of that which exists, three things are nedure which consists of pleading. Second stage The agency best adapted to the business of the cessary i of the Judi. secon(j stage 0f judicature, is that which next de1st, That the whole of it should be made to bear, that is, should be taken and applied. 1 ness. ' uiands our attention. The business of that stage is, 2dly, That it should be taken in those circumthe taking of evidence ; in other words, the doing all that is necessary to ascertain whether the disputed stances which are most conducive to trust-worthiness. fact happened or did not happen. Sdly, That the proper value should be set upon The subject of evidence is a matter of complexity in the detail. And where any thing complex is to each article, and upon the whole. 1. That the evidence may be taken as completely be stated in words, there is always difficulty in the expression, how plain soever the ideas. Such gene- as possible, two things are necessary. The first is, ral considerations, however, as we can even here ad- that the judge should have power to send for, and duce, will, we hope, throw sufficient light upon the to compel the attendance of, all persons and things subject, to leave no doubt with respect to the con- which may be capable of affording evidence. 1 he clusions which we have it in view to establish. This second is, that the evidence should all be taken, and is one of the topics, connected with law, which Mr nothing be omitted or lost. It is not necessary here to enter into any details Bentham has exhausted, though a small part only of what he has written upon it has yet seen the light. * with respect to the first of those requisites. The With respect to all facts, legally operative, that is, necessity of the powers is obvious, and the end to which give or take away rights, it is desirable that be attained is so precise and perspicuous, that there evidence, amounting to proof, should, if possible, al- can be no difficulty in conceiving the mode of putways exist. With respect to a great proportion of ting together and applying the means. There is no them, it is in the power of the legislature to take limit, it is obvious, to the physical power which measures, that evidence of them shall be collected should be placed at the disposal of the judge. He at the moment of their happening, and shall be pre- ought to have the right of calling upon every man, served. This is the case with all those of which an upon the whole community, to aid him in any act evidentiary writing can be made and preserved by which is necessary to the performance of any part registration; all contracts, births, deaths, mar- of his judicial duty ; because any force, opposed to riages, and so on. The proportion is really very the performance of that duty, there ought to be a great of the whole number of facts, legally operative, force sufficient promptly to overcome. It is convein regard to which a legislature, by proper means, nient, however, to the community, instead of being might secure the existence of evidence, and to that liable to be called upon, individually, for the perextent might either prevent disputes, or render the formance of the ordinary services auxiliary to the decision of them easy. That so little of this most business of the judge, to provide him with a proper important and obvious work has any where been number of officers, paid for attending to execute his done, only shows how ill the legislatures of the commands. Their principal business, as regards this world have hitherto performed the task. It is in stage of the judicial proceedings, is, to serve notice the power of the legislature, by a proper classi- upon any persons who%e own presence, or that of fication, to have an accurate formulary, for the dif- any writing or other thing which they may possess, ferent species of contracts* ‘wills, and other evi- is required by the judge. Persons or things, subdentiary writings. Those formularies, properly made jected immediately to the operations of judicature, and printed with blanks to fill up, would render the have a particular name in English. They are said business of Conveyancing, which, in England, is a to be forthcoming, a word which has an exact equiboundless, trackless, and almost impenetrable jungle, valent in few other languages, and is exceedingly abounding with expence, with delay and vexation to appropriate and useful. It is of the greatest conparties, with wealth and almost boundless power venience, when a concrete term, the use of which is over the fortunes of other men to lawyers, a thing very frequent, has an abstract term corresponding to it; as good, has goodness; hard, hardness, and so of the greatest simplicity, certainty, and ease.

* We are happy to say, there are hopes that this part of Mr Bentham’s writings will soon be presented to the public by M. Dumont, the first of translators and redacteurs, in that happy form which he has given to other portions of that philosopher’s manuscripts.

J U R I S P R Jurispm- on. There was not any word in the language cordence. responding in this way to forthcoming. Mr Bentham, perceiving the great need of it, made the term forthcomingness; not exceptionable on the score either of harshness or obscurity. The small wits thought proper to laugh at him. We shall, nevertheless, sorry at the same time that we cannot supply a defect in the language without offending them, make use of the word, in which we find great appropriateness and great convenience. This particular branch, therefore, of the judicial agency is that which relates to forthcomingness ; and forthcomingness is required for two purposes, both for evidence and for justiciability ; for evidence, that a true decision may be passed ; for justiciability, that the sentence of the judge may not fail of its intended effect. So much with respect to the forthcomingness of evidence. The second condition, required to give the decision the benefit of all the existing evidence, is, that the whole should be taken, and that not any part of it which can be taken without preponderant inconvenience should be excluded and lost. Of the several articles of evidence, some will always be of more importance; some of less; and some may be of very little importance; but whether of little or of much, it is always desirable that all should be taken, and every the smallest portion counted for what it is worth. The discovery of truth is promoted by taking advantage of every thing which tends to throw light upon the subject of dispute. These propositions, it may appear to be useless, indeed impertinent, formally to state. They are too evident, it may be said, to be disputed, and too important to be overlooked. Important as they are, and undisputed by all the rest of the world, they are not only disputed, but trampled upon by lawyers, especially English lawyers. They have unhappily established a set of rules in direct opposition to them. These rules they applaud in all forms of expression, and celebrate as guards and fences of all that is dear to mankind. In all causes, they have determined, that persons so and so situated, things so and so situated, though apt to be pregnant with information beyond all other persons and things, shall not be admitted as sources of evidence. Thus, in English law, we have incompetency of witnesses, that is, exclusion of them, 1st, From want of understanding; 2c%, From defect of religious principle; 3dly, From infamy of character; 4>thly, From interest. These are undisguised modes of exclusion ; besides which, there is an extensive assortment of disguised modes. Under this title comes the rule, that only the best evidence be given which the nature of the case admits of; according to which, it often happens that the only evidence which can be had is excluded. Under this title also falls the rule, making certain kinds of evidence conclusive, by which proceeding, all other evidence is excluded. To the same list belongs the rule, that hearsay evidence is not admissible. The rules, so extensive in their application, by which writings are wholly rejected, only because they want certain formularies, are rules of exclusion ; and so are the limitations with respect to time, and to number of witnesses. Into the very extensive subject, however,

U D E N C E. 157 of the absurdity and mischievousness of the rules of Jurispruevidence in English law, we cannot pretend so much tlenc{^ , as to enter. A remarkable exemplification of them was afforded on the trial of Warren Hastings, to which, for this purpose, the reader may be referred. (See Mill’s History of British India, Book VI. Chap, ii.) The only conceivable reasons for the exclusion of evidence are three ; 1. Irrelevancy. 2. Inconvenience in obtaining and producing. 3. Danger of deception. With regard to irrelevancy, the decision is clear. What has no tendency either to prove or disprove the point in question, it would be loss of time to receive. With regard to inconvenience, it is no doubt liable to happen, that when all the good which can be expected from the obtaining of a lot of evidence is compared with the evil of the delay, cost, and vexation, inseparable from the obtaining of it, the evil may be more than an overmatch for the good. In all such cases, it is expedient that the lot of evidence should be foregone. As a guard against the danger of deception, it is equally certain that no evidence ought ever to be excluded. An account of all the reasons by which the absurdity is demonstrated of exclusion on this ground, and of the wide and deplorable mischief which, in the vulgar systems, is produced by it, would be far too extensive for the contracted limits of the present discourse. Reasons, however, decisive of the question, present themselves so obviously, that hardly any man, with an ordinary understanding, not fettered by prejudice, can look at the subject without perceiving them. If evidence is to be received from no source from which evidence, liable to produce deception, is capable of coming, evidence must not be received at all. Evidence must be received from sources whence false evidence, as well as true, is liable to flow. To refuse all information from such sources, is not the way by which a knowledge of the truth can be obtained. This is the way to make sure of not having that knowledge. The means of obtaining it are, to receive information from every possible source, and to separate the bad from the good, under all those securities, and by the guidance of all those marks, of which understanding and attention know how to avail themselves. It is not enough to say, we will receive information from those sources only which are least likely to yield deceptions evidence, refuse to receive it from those which are most likely. You are obliged to receive it from sources differing in almost all possible degrees of likelihood. Where are you to draw the line of separation ? Is not the same discernment which guards you against the danger of false information from the sources which you deem the least likely to yield it sufficient to guard you against it from those sources which you deem the most likely to do so ? In fact it will be still more sufficient because in this case you will be much more apt to be upon your guard. The very best information is, in truth, liable to be derived from the very wTorst of

158 J U R I S P Juvispm- sources,—from a man who, you know, would not dencc. te}j y0U one wor(j 0f truth, if he could help it. The securities that a man will give true information, independently of those artificial securities which the legislature can apply equally to all, are, 1.^, Intelligence. 2c/, Probity. 3d, Freedom from interest. Suppose that one, or two, or all of these securities are wanting; it only follows, that what he states should be heard with a proportional distrust. It may still be of the utmost importance to the discovery of the truth that he should be heard. It never can be less than unfavourable to that great end that, with the proper allowances, he should not be heard at all. His testimony may appear, when heard, to be utterly unworthy of credence. But that could not be known till it was heard and examined. It might so have been, that it was not only worthy of credence, but completed the proof of a fact of the greatest possible importance. That a man should not be heard as a witness, on account of his religious creed, is an absurdity which we cannot descend to notice. 2. The second of the three things which we found necessary, as above, for making the best use judicially of whatever evidence, to the fact in question, exists, was, that it should be taken under those circumstances, which are most conducive to trust-worthiness. Those circumstances are constituted by the artificial securities, which arrangements can be made to apply. The following enumeration of them has been made by Mr Bentham {Introduction to the Rationale of Evidence, p. 54), and appears to be complete. 1. Punishment. 2. Shame. 3. Interrogation, including counter-interrogation. 4. Counter evidence,—admission of. 5. Writing,—use made of it for giving permanence, &c. to evidence. 6. Publicity,—to most purposes and on most occasions. 7. Privacy,—to some purposes, and on some occasions. For developing the import of these several securities, we can afford to say nothing. The principal operation of the judicial functionary in this part of the business is, to preside over the interrogation ; to see that it is properly and completely performed. The question, then, what is the sort of agency best adapted for the performance of this part of the task of taking evidence is not difficult to answer. There is nothing in it which one man, with the proper intellectual and moral qualifications, is not as capable of performing, as any number of men. 3. All the existing evidence being collected and received, it only remains that the proper value should be attached to the several portions, and a corre. spending decision pronounced. It is sufficiently evident that, for the performance of this duty, no very precise instructions can be laid down. The value which belongs to an article of evidence often depends on minute and almost indescribable circumstances; and the result must be left to the sagacity and conscience of the judge. At the same time, however, service to this end.

R U D E N C E. and of the greatest importance, may be, and, of Jurisprucourse, ought to be, rendered by the legislature. dence* The different marks of trust-worthiness may, to a certain extent of particularity, be very correctly described. This being done, the difference between the value of any two lots of evidence, to which those marks attach, may be very exactly ascertained. One has a certain number of the marks of trust-worthiness, as laid down by the legislature; another has all these and so many more; the result is clear. It is evident, that as far, in this respect, as experience and foresight can go, nothing should be left undone by the legislature. Another important service can be rendered by the legislature ; and that is, to provide an accurate language for the judge ; a language in which he can express precisely the degree of value which he allots to each article of evidence, and to the whole. Various expedients may be adopted for this purpose. A very obvious one is, to fix upon some particular, well known article of evidence, the value of which all men appreciate equally ; the clear testimony, for example, of a man of the ordinary degree of intelligence and probity; as a standard. Is the value to be expressed, which the judge attaches to any other article of evidence ? If inferior to the standard, it falls below it by so many degrees, one, two, three, four: If superior, it rises above it by so many. Having provided an accurate language, the legislature should take security that it be used; and admit of no vague and general expressions in the account of the value which the judge attaches to eacli article of the evidence on which he grounds his decision. At the same time that the legislature insists upon the use of precise language in stating the value of evidence, it should insist upon reasons; upon receiving from the judge a precise statement of the grounds upon which he attaches such a value, and no other, to each and every article of evidence; that is, upon receiving a reference, as exact as language can give, to each of the circumstances which contributed to suggest to him that particular estimate which he says he has formed. Of the importance of all these expedients we presume that no illustration is required. We come now to the third and last stage of the Third stage business of judicature; when all that remains is t° carry into effect the sentence of the judge. ness> When they, upon whom the sentence operates, are willing to obey, all that is necessary is to afford them notice of what it requires them to perform. In well ordered countries, all but a very insignificant number will be found to be cases of this description. When opposition is to be overcome, a physical force must be provided, sufficient for the purpose. As there seems nothing mysterious in determining how this should be formed, and under what rules it should act, to secure the ends for which it is provided, with the smallest possible amount of collateral evil; we shall here take leave of the subject. We have now seen the whole of the operations to be performed. The parties are received to state before the judge the investitive or divestitive facts on

JURISPRUDENCE. 159 Jurispru- which they rely. If they state, for this purpose, a 4. Writing, for the sake of accuracy and perma- Jurispru. tlence^ £act js not; possessed of those qualities, they nence. deuce. ^ are immediately told that it is not possessed of them, 5. Singleness of the functionary. and not calculated to support their claim. They 6. Appeal. come, by two or three steps, at the longest, to a fact For the Punishment of the several kinds of judiciupon which the question ultimately turns; and which al offences, provision ought to be made in the penal is either contested, or not contested. In a great code. many cases it would not be contested. When the In the case of the judge there is particular occasubject was stript of disguise, the party who had no sion to point accurately, and to strengthen to the utright, would generally see that he had no hope, and most, the operation of Shame ; for in the situation of would acquiesce. The suit would thus be termi- judge it is possible to be guilty of offences very nunated without the adduction of evidence. When it merous and very serious, without permitting so much was not, the cases Avould be frequent in which it of evidence to attach to any definite act, as would might be terminated by the evidence which the suffice to form a ground for punishment. parties brought along with them. In these cases, The great instrument for the application of shame also, the first hearing would suffice. A vast majo- is Publicity. The importance of publicity, thererity of the whole number of suits w'ould be includ- fore, is paramount. It is not only the great instrued in these two sets of cases. For the decision of a ment for creating and applying the moral sanction, vast majority, therefore, of the whole number of the approbation and disapprobation of mankind ; but suits, a few minutes would suffice. When all the it is of essential service towards the application of evidence could not be forthcoming at the first hear- punishment, by making known the occasions on ing, and only then, would a second hearing be re- which it is deserved. It is not only a great security quired. In this mode of proceeding, justice would in itself, but it is the principle of life and strength be, that without which it is not justice, expeditious to all other securities. and cheap. All other publicity is feeble and of little worth The Judicial In all this there is nothing which one man, with compared with that of the Press. Not only, thereEstablish- the appropriate intellectual and moral qualities, is fore, ought this to be allowed to operate with its utquiry'what'no^ as competent to perform as any number of men. most force upon the judge, but effectual provision is the best As one man is cheaper than any greater number, ought to be made to cause it to operate upon him form of the that is one reason why no more than one judge should with its utmost force. Not only ought the judga owe( to one ment hall to be rendered as convenient as possible ^fired^for' ^ next ^ tribunal. giving effect ^ °bjcet of inquiry is, to ascertain what for the reception of the public; not only ought the to the Laws, securities can be provided that those who are en- greatest freedom to be enjoyed in publishing the trusted with the business of judicature shall possess proceedings of the judge; and in publishing all the requisite intellectual and moral endowments. manner of observations upon them, favourable or unSecurities The intellectual endowments depend upon those favourable ; but measures ought to be taken to make for the intellectual who have the power of choosing and of dismissing a public, and to produce publication, where there is endowments the judges; and who do or do not appoint men any chance that a voluntary public, and voluntary of the whose knowledge and capacity are ascertained. The publication, would be wanting. For this purpose, Judge. moral behaviour of the judges depends upon the in- unless other very important considerations interterests which act upon them in the situation in which vene, the judgment seat should always be in that they are placed. place, within the district to which it belongs, where Into the question, who should have the appoint- the most numerous and intelligent public, and the ment of the judges, we do not intend to enter. The best means of publication, are to be had. answer would be different under different forms of In England, where there is no definition of libel, government; and this is not the place to compare and where the judges, therefore, are allowed to puthe different forms of government, either for this or nish, under the name of libel, whatever writing any other of the ends of its institution. One thing they do not like, the publishing of unfavourable obonly we shall state, because it carries its evidence servations on the conduct of a judge ; nay, in some along with it. Those who appoint the judges ought instances, and these the highest in importance, the to have no interest contrary to the best administra- simple report of his proceedings—is treated as one of tion of justice. the most heinous of all possible offences. No wonSecurities As the uprightness of the judge is assailed by in- der ! Allow judges, or allow any men, to frame for the terests inseparable from his situation ; viz. the pro- laws, and they will frame them, if they can, to anmoral Qualities of the fit which he may derive from misdecision, it is ne- swer their own purposes. Who would not, if he cessary to counterbalance them by opposite interests, could, make a law to protect himself from censure ? Judge. assuming the character of securities. Several of the More especially if he were a man disposed to act in securities, which we have already seen applying to such a way as to deserve censure ? the situation of witness, apply also to the situation Would you allow falsehood to be published of judge: Some are peculiar to each. The follow- against the judge ! The word falsehood is here ing is the list of those which apply to the situation ambiguous. It means both erroneous opinions, and of judge. false statements with regard to fact. Erroneous 1. Punishment. opinions we would undoubtedly permit, because we 2. Shame. know no standard for ascertaining them, other than 3. Publicity. that which is aff orded by public discussion; and be-

JURISPRUDENCE. 160 Jurispru- cause this is an adequate remedy for all the evil siderable value. Those in which it has been dis- Jurispru. dence. -which erroneous opinions have any tendency to pensed with are those which concern property of in- dence. produce. Affirmation of facts injurious to the considerable value. The first set of cases are those judge, if false, and made without reasonable grounds which are of importance to the aristocratical class ; for having been believed to be true, we would pre- the second are those which are of no importance to that class. It is the aristocratical class who have vent. Allow facts, injurious to the judge, to be publish- made the laws; they have accordingly declared that ed, even when true; allow comments, unfavourable the suits which were important to them should have to the judge, to be made upon his actions, you dis- the benefit of appeal; the suits not important to credit the administration of justice. Discredit the them shoidd not have the benefit of appeal. We recognize only one standard of importance ; administration of justice, to which the people are resorting every day for the greatest of all possible be- namely, influence upon human happiness and misery. nefits, protection from injury ! As well talk of dis- The small sum of money for which the suit of the crediting the business of a bread-baker, a meat-sel- poor man is instituted is commonly of much greater ler, if the fraudulent dealer is exposed to the cen- importance to him, than the larger sum for which sures of the public! Discredit the administration the suit of the rich man is instituted is to the rich. of justice, indeed, by taking measures of security Again, for one rich man there are thousands and against the vices of judges; indispensable for its thousands of poor. In the calculation, then, of perfect benevolence, the suits for the small sums are perfection ! The importance of recording, in permanent cha- not, as in the calculation of perfect aristocracy, racters, what takes place before the judge, we must those of the least, or rather no importance; they content ourselves with assuming. We may do so, are of ten thousand times greater importance than it is presumed, with propriety, on account of the fa- the suits for the largest sums. If an appeal ought to be had, how many stages cility with which the reasons present themselves. We must also leave it to our readers to draw the should there be of appeal ? This question, we line of distinction between the occasions on which imagine, is easily answered. If you go for a second it is requisite, and the occasions on which it may be judgment, you should, if possible, go to the very dispensed with; the occasions, for example, where best source: and if you go at once to the best every thing is simple and clear, and all parties are source, why go any farther ? What is required to be done, in the case of an apsatisfied. It is a great security, both for diligent and for up- peal, is the first thing which deserves to be ascerright conduct in the "judge, that he occupy singly tained. An appeal takes place in consequence of a the judgment seat. When a man knows that the complaint against the previous judge. Where no whole credit and reward of what is done well; the complaint, there is no appeal, nor place for appeal. A complaint against the judge must relate to his whole punishment and disgrace of what is done ill, will belong to himself, the motive to good conduct conduct, either at the first, the second, or the third is exceedingly increased. When a man hopes that stage, of the judicial operations. If to his conduct at the first stage, it must be a he can shuffle off the blame of negligence, the blame of unfairness, or fix a part ot it on another, the un- complaint of his having permitted a party to rest certainty of the punishment operates, as we have al- upon a fact which had not the investitive or divesready seen, to the diminution, and almost to the ex- titive quality ascribed to it; and this implies either tinction, of its preventive force. Certain common, a mistake with respect to the law, or that he allowed and even proverbial expressions, mark the general the decision to turn upon a fact which did not emexperience of that indifference, with which a duty, brace the merits of the question. It is evident, that that belongs in common to many, is apt to be perform- for the decision of this question, all that is necessary ed. What is every body’s business is nobody’s. This is an exact transcription of the pleadings, and transis as true in the family as in the state; as true in ju- mission of them to the court of appeal. If the complaint relates to his conduct at the sedicature as in ordinary life. Much remains to be said upon this topic, which is one of great import- cond stage, it must turn upon one of two points ; either that he did not take all the evidence, or that ance ; but we must pass to the next. Of the use of appeal, as a security against the mis- he did not properly determine its value. If he did not take the evidence properly, by a conduct of the judge, there is the less occasion to adduce any proof, because it seems to be fully re- failure either in assembling the sources of it, or in extracting it from them when assembled, the proper cognized by the practice of nations. One thing, however, which is not recognized by remedy is to send back the cause to him, with an that practice, is, that, if it is necessary in any one order to him to supply the omission; or, if he be sort of causes, so it is in every other, without excep- suspected of having failed wilfully, to send it to the tion. Not a single reason can be given why it judge of one of the neighbouring districts, to retake should exist in one set of cases, which is not equally the evidence and decide. If the complaint relates to a wrong estimate of strong to prove that it should exist in any other. It is instructive to observe the cases in which it the evidence, the statement of it transmitted to the has been supposed that it ought to exist, and the court of appeal, with the reasons assigned by the cases in which it has been supposed that it might judge for the value affixed to every portion of it, be omitted. The cases in which it has been thought will enable the appellate court to decide. With regard to the third stage, the only comnecessary, are those which concern property of con-

JURISPRUDENCE. Jurispru- plaint there can be is, that the judge has not taken dence measures to execute his own sentence. If any inII. quiry is in thisppcase be made, Jussieu, n teto court referthe it proper to one course of the that the a

e a

neighbouring judges. When a simple act is to be done, the proper order is to be dispatched, and the proper penalties for non-performance exacted. It thus appears, that for every thing which is required to be done by the appellate judicature, nothing whatsoever is required, as a foundation, but certain papers* The presence is not required, either of parties or of witnesses. As it is of no great consequence, in a country in which the means of communication are tolerably provided, whether papers have to be transmitted 50 or 500 miles, the distance, even though considerable, of the seat of the appellate jurisdiction is a « matter of very little importance. The object, then, is to get the best seat; that is, the best public. The best public, generally speaking, is in the capital. The capital, then, is the proper seat of all appellate jurisdiction. And that there should be one judge, and one judge only, in each court of appeal, is proved by exactly the same reasons, as those which apply to the courts of primary jurisdiction. The question how many courts there should be, as well of primary as of appellate jurisdiction, is to be determined by one thing, and one thing only, namely, the need there is for them. The number of the courts of primary jurisdiction must be determined, in some instances, by the number of suits ; in some, by local extent. To render justice sufficiently accessible, the distance from the seat of judicature must not be great, though the number of accruing suits, either from the paucity or from the good conduct of the people, should be ever so small. „ As the judgment seat should never be empty, tor the heed of staying injustice is not confined to times and seasons, and as one judge may be sometimes ill, sometimes called to a distance even by the duties of his office, provision ought to be made for supplying his place. For this purpose the proper expedient is a deputy. That the deputy should well perform his duty, the best security is, that he should be chosen and employed by the judge, the judge being

JUSSIEU (Antoine de), M. D. Professor of Botany in the Royal Garden at Paris, and a member of the Academic des Sciencest was born at Lyons in 1686, and educated at Montpellier, where he received his degree of Doctor of Physic, being afterwards associated with the faculty of Paris. Although much occupied in the practice of medicine in the capital, he was ardently devoted to the study of botany, having, in the early part of his life, visited Spain and the southern provinces ot France in search of plants. When stationary at Paris, he communicated various essays to the Academy, which are printed in its Memoires. These are chiefly botanical, illustrating the characters or the qualities of vavol. v. PART i.

responsible for the acts of the deputy as his own. Whatever it is which the judge cannot do, or cannot conveniently do, in that he may employ his deputy. If there is a great influx of causes, the deputy may be employed in some of those the least complex and difficult. If there is any business, not of first rate importance, requiring the presence of the judge at a distance, the delegation of the deputy or deputies is the proper resource. Besides the judge and his deputy, there are two adjuncts to every tribunal, which are of the utmost importance; indispensable, indeed, to the due administration of justice. These are a 'pursuer-general and a defender-general. The business of both pursuer-general and defender-general is to reclaim the execution of all laws in the execution of which the nation has a peculiar- interest, though individuals may not. The peculiar business of the pursuer-general is to act on behalf of the administrative authority, in its character of plaintiff, and on behalf of every plaintiff who is without the means of engaging another advocate; to obviate any prejudice he sees likely to arise to justice from the conduct of plaintiffs, whether in civil matters or penal; and to perform in the case of all offences, where no private prosecutor appears, the office of prosecutor. The peculiar duty of the defender-general is to act on behalf of the administrative authority in its capacity of defendant, and on behalf of every defendant who has not the means of engaging another advocate, and to obviate any prejudice he sees likely to result to justice from want of skill or other causes on the part of a defendant who pleads his own cause, or on the part of him who pleads it for him. The courts of appeal, though all seated in the metropolis, ought to be as numerous as the speedy hearing of all the appeals which come to them requires. The judges of appeal ought all to be chosen from the judges of primary jurisdiction, not only on account of the education and the experience received, but as a step of promotion, and a proper motive to acquire the requisite education, and to merit approbation in the inferior employment. There is the same propriety, and for the same reason, in choosing the judges of primary jurisdiction from the deputies. (f* F-)

rious exotics, at that period not well known; but he has given several papers also, on extraneous fossils, and a few other subjects of natural history. He furnished the two Appendices to Tournefort’s Institutiones Rei Herbarice, and edited the leones of Barrelier. He also published a historical account of the magnificent collection of drawings of plants of animals, originally begun under the auspices of Gaston Duke of Orleans, and continued down to the present times. When Linnaeus visited Paris in 1738, he, in a letter to Haller, mentioned this, the elder, Jussieu, as “ much engaged in medical practice, well versed in the knowledge of the species of plants, though too prone to multiply them, and strictly confined to the x

161 Jurisprudence II Jussieu.

162 JUS Jussieu, ideas and principles of Toumefort.” In one im« •V"*'*' portant point, however, which could hardly escape Linnaeus, and ought not to be forgotten, he emancipated himself from the errors of his master, for he perfectly understood, and fully admitted, the doctrine of the sexes of plants. A letter of his, completely explaining this phenomenon, on the most correct principles, is given by Bradley, in his Philosophical Account of the Works of Nature, p. 25-32. He died of an apoplectic fit, at Paris, April 22, 1758, aged 72. (j. j.) JUSSIEU (Bernard de,) younger brother of the preceding, and like him a Physician, and a member of the Academic des Sciences, was still more devoted to the philosophical as well as practical study of botany, and ranks among the greatest names in that science, as having first attempted to form a system, according to the natural affinities of plants. He was born at Lyons in 16Q9, and appears to have accompanied, or followed, his brother to Paris, where he occupied, under him, the place of botanical demonstrator, in the Jardin du Roi, and at length succeeded him as Professor of Botany. If his communications to the Academy were less numerous than those of his brother, they were of a rather superior character. In one of them, published in the Memoires of that body for 1742, he enters on the subject, then scarcely touched by any person, of the animal nature of certain marine productions, previously taken for plants; and we perceive, in his inquiries, dawnings of that meridian light, which our countryman Ellis afterwards threw on these curious tribes. On other occasions he explained the flowers of the Littorella, and, with much acuteness, the more obscure fructification of the Pilularia. He wrote, in conjunction with the learned Comte de Caylus, on the Papyrus, and he gave an improved edition of Tournefort’s History of the Plants about Paris, in 1725. Linnaeus became personally acquainted with this ingenious man at Paris, in 1738, and maintained, for some years, an intimate correspondence with him. They could not be long in each other’s company without discussing the natural affinities of plants, a study which seems to have been much advanced, if not first excited, in the mind of Linnaeus, by his correspondence with Haller. Bernard de Jussieu had, about the same time, by his own contemplations, probably, been led to consider it; for the system of Tournefort, in which he was educated, is too artificial in principle to have given him any such ideas. In its execution, indeed, that great author is led, by his own good sense, into some natural and philosophical views, in spite of his system; and these may possibly have caught the attention of Jussieu. However this may be, mutual satisfaction, and reciprocal instruction, could not but flow from the converse of Bernard de Jussieu and Linnaeus. They traced out together the characters and the limits of various natural assemblages, or orders. Every day produced, and every letter communicated, some new discovery. But as the multifarious hordes of the north appear originally to have used one common tongue, which, after they were dispersed, divided, and cultivated,

JUS when it came to be written, assumed the form of va. Jussieu, rious distinct languages ; so these two botanical philosophers, when their more intimate intercourse had ceased, pursued different paths, and went far towards different conclusions. Linnaeus, after throwing the whole vegetable creation, more or less completely, into natural groupes, became more and more persuaded, that it was not only impracticable to connect them by one synoptic clue, or system, but that not one of his assemblages, or orders, was capable of precise and unexceptionable definition. On the other hand, Bernard de Jussieu, to the last, aimed at a general scheme of classification, though he accomplished little more than throwing his several orders into larger assemblages, and disposing the whole, as indeed Linnaeus himself has done, in one series, according to their relationship to each other. The French botanist is recorded to have spoken with great diffidence of his own performance, and has written nothing of a general classification. But he often gave hints, in lectures or conversation, by which others perhaps have profited. This appears from the preface to the Genera Plantarum of his distinguished nephew, Antoine Laurent de Jussieu, the present Botanical Professor at Paris, who, following up the ideas of his uncle, and sacrificing something to technical convenience, at the expeuce of nature, has contrived to exhibit a tolerably natural system^ founded on methodical principles. It would be to little purpose to discuss, at the present day, the claims of Linnaeus or of Bernard de Jussieu to originality in the study of natural orders. Professor De Candolle has justly asserted, that they had the same object in view, and adopted, in the main, the same principles. B. de Jussieu, in a letter, dated February 15,1742, congratulating Linnaeus on his appointment to the botanical chair at UpsaJ, says, “ Florez devotus omninb poteris viam quam monstrasti facilem amplius aperire, naturalemque methodum tandem perficere, quam desiderant et expectant botanophyli omnes” In a subsequent letter of May 7, 1746, he tells his Swedish friend, f* Scio quantum emolumentum receperint qui secundum tua principia student; memet experientia docuitP This is enough to settle the question, though great allowance is, perhaps, due to the modesty of Jussieu, who was less disposed to honour himself than his friend. His biographer, the celebrated Marquis de Condorcet, records his singularly amiable and unaffected manners. These, during his occupation of arranging, according to natural classes, the garden of Trianon, attracted the notice and esteem of his sovereign, Louis XV. to whom any unsophisticated character, or object, could not but form an agreeable relaxation from the routine of a court. Jussieu obtained plants and seeds to be sent to his friend in the king’s name. He pursued his innocent and useful studies till his death, which happened in 1777, in his 79th year. A compendious view of his nephew’s system, and a comparison of their Natural Orders with those of Linnaeus, may be seen under the article Botany, in the second volume of this Supplement. (j. j.)

163

K A L Kaleido- Ivaleidoscope, an optical instrument, invented scope, by Dr Brewster, which, by a particular arrangement of mirrors, or reflecting surfaces, presents to the eye, placed in a certain position, symmetrical combinations of images, remarkable for their beauty and the infinite variations of which they are susceptible. The name is derived from the Greek words xaXog, beautiful, sidog, a form or appearance, and tfjcoTsw to sec. History of Xhe effect of combining two or more plane mirtioVo/the rors’ 80n as t0 Pr°duce a multiplication of images, Kaleidol° g been known and described by writers on scope. optics. Baptista Porta, in his Magia Naturalis, gives an account of the construction of an instrument, which he calls jwlyphaton, in which two rectangular specula are united by two of their sides, so that they may be opened or shut like a book, and the angles varied ; and also of a polygonal speculum, consisting of several mirrors arranged in a polygon, for multiplying in different directions the images of objects. Kircher, also, in his Ars Magna Lucis et Umbrce, describes, as an invention of his own, the former of these constructions, and distinctly traces the relation between the angle of inclination of the mirrors, and the number of images formed. The very same contrivance was afterwards adopted by Bradley for the purpose of assisting in the designing of garden plots and fortifications ; and he states that, from the most trifling designs, we may, by this means, produce some thousands of good draughts.” But the particular application of this principle in the case where the two reflectors are inclined to one another at a small angle, so as to form a series of symmetric images, distinctly visible only in a particular position of the eye, was a discovery reserved for Dr Brewster. The first idea of this remarkable property occurred to him in the course of some experiments in which he was engaged on the polarisation of light, during the year 1814. But the only circumstance which at that time attracted his attention, was the circular arrangement of the images of a candle round a centre, and the multiplication of the sectors formed by the extremities of the plates of glass, between which the light had undergone several successive reflections. In repeating, at a subsequent period, some experiments of Mr Biot on the action of homogeneous fluids upon polarised light, and in extending them to other fluids which he had not tried, Dr Brewster happened, for greater convenience, to place them in a triangular trough, formed by two plates of glass, cemented together by two of their sides, so as to form an acute angle. The ends being closed up with pieces of plate glass cemented to the other plates, the trough was fixed horizontally, for the reception of the fluids. The eye being necessarily placed without the trough, and at one end, some of the cement which had been pressed through between the plates at the object end of the trough, appeared to be arranged in a remarkably VOL. v. PART II.

regular and symmetrical manner. Pursuing the Kaleidohint thus obtained, and investigating the subject op- scope, tically, he discovered the leading principles of the s kaleidoscope, in as far as the inclination of the reflectors, the position of the object, and that of the eye, were concerned. He then constructed an instrument in its simplest form, and showed it to some of the members of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, who were much struck with the beauty of its effects. Several very material improvements were subsequently made by the inventor in the construction and application of the instrument, for which he then took out a patent. But, in consequence of one of these instruments having found its way to London, its properties became generally known before any number of the patent kaleidoscopes could be prepared for sale. It very quickly became popular; and the sensation it excited in London throughout all ranks of people was astonishing. Kaleidoscopes were manufactured in immense numbers, and were sold as rapidly as they could be made. The instrument was in every body’s hands, and people were every where seen, even at the corners of streets, looking through the kaleidoscope. It afforded delight to the poor as well as the rich ; to the old as well as the young. Large cargoes of them were sent abroad, particularly to the East Indies. They very soon became known throughout Europe, and have been met with by travellers even in the most obscure and retired villages in Switzerland. Dr Brewster states, that no fewer than two hundred thousand kaleidoscopes were sold in London and Paris in the space of three months ; and yet,” says he, “ out of this immense number there is, perhaps, not one thousand constructed upon scientific principles, or capable of giving any thing like a correct idea of the power of the kaleidoscope ; and of the millions who have witnessed its effects, there is perhaps not one hundred who have any idea of the principles upon which it is constructed, and of the mode in which those effects are produced. lo convey a knowledge of these principles is the object of the present article. It follows from the optical law of the equality of Optical printhe angles of which the incident and reflected rayscipleson make with a line perpendicular to the reflecting sur-which a face at the point of incidence (see Encyclopcediafa*' Optics, § 16’9, 172), that rays which diverge from any object and fall on a plane surface, will, after reflection, proceed in the same course as if they had immediately diverged from a point situated at the same distance behind the reflecting surface as the radiant point is before it. This point is called the virtual focus of those ra_ys ; and the eye receiving them will have the perception of a reversed image of the object in this situation. Thus the miror AA, (I late XC1II. fig. 1) will produce a reversed image of the object R, situated at the point S, in the line R^iS, perpendicular to the surface of the mirror; and this image will appear in the same place whatY

KALEIDOSCOPE. 164 KaleidoKaleido- ever be the situation of the eye, as E, provided the of a formal demonstration, that by this construction, scope. scope. reflected rays rE meet it. the equality of the angles of incidence and reflec-, ' Since the course of the reflected rays is the same tion is every where preserved. The different posias if they had immediately proceeded from a real tions of the line PS, that is PQ, QT, TV, and VS, object of S, where its image is seen, this image will, are in fact the images of Pq, gt, tv, and uR respecwith relation to another mirror, have all the effect of tively, which are so many portions of the real course a real object; and a second reflection of the rays of the reflected rays. It is evident that a similar by a new mirror at BB', will produce, at the point construction will, in every ether case, furnish us T, equally distant from BB' as S is, but on the other with the actual course of all the rays from which side of it, an image of the first image, visible to the images result, through all their successive stages of eye at E by the twice reflected rays RyuE. As the reflection; and it has also the advantage of giving first image was reversed with respect to the object, us the exact angles of incidence and reflection so the second image will be reversed with respect to throughout the whole path. We have hitherto, for the sake of perspicuity, supthe first, and therefore direct when compared with the object. The second image may, it is evident, posed both the object and the eye, together with the by a new reflection from the first mirror, give rise path of the rays, to be in the same plane. But it is to a third, which will now again, like the first image, obvious that the same method of construction and of be reversed; and so on, in succession, may a series reasoning may be employed in tracing their course, of images alternately reversed and direct, be pro- if we suppose the mirrors to be prolonged in a diduced on each side by two mirrors only, in conse- rection perpendicular to the plane of the figure, and quence of multiplied reflections, provided the mir- the eye raised above that plane. The space between rors are of sufficient extent to admit of them, and the mirrors, instead of being the sector of a circle provided the eye be so placed as to receive the rays merely, is now the sector of a cylinder; which cylinder may be completed by supplying the other secwhich are last reflected. If the mirrors be parallel to each other (see fig. 2,) tors which compose it, as is represented in fig. 8, the images of the intervening objects, A A'BB', will where ACctc and BC6c being the mirrors, the rest of be ranged in succession in a continued line on each the cylindrical space is occupied by complementary side. If they be somewhat inclined to each other sectors. The course of the rays by which the eye (as in fig. 3,) the images will be disposed in the at E will see the image S, for instance, of the obarch of a circle, having for its centre the point in ject R, may readily be traced by drawing a straight which the directions of the mirrors unite. If the line from E to S, which will pass through as many mirrors be of sufficient length, or sufficiently inclined, planes BCic, &c. as the rays have suffered reflecso as actually to meet; and if, moreover, the angle tions. The portions of the line ES, intercepted bethey form be an even aliquot part of a circle, the tween these planes, may, as in the former case, be images of all the objects situated in the space be- regarded as the images (either reversed or direct, as tween them, ABC, fig. 4, will together occupy a the case may be) of some portion of the actual path circular field, and will be disposed in the form of of the rays between the mirrors; A will occupy the same position with regard to the complementary secsectors all round the circle. General me- This circular arrangement of the images, however tor it traverses, as the real path does in the original thod of legitimately it may have been deduced from the sector bounded by the mirrors. By drawing, in this tracing the simpiest iaw 0f optics, appears to be so extraordi- sector, lines similarly situated with respect to its course ot the an illusion of the sensej as to call for somewhat sides, at the several portions, PQ, QT, TS of the Bays. further examination before we can feel perfectly line ES, are with respect to the sides of their reassured that it is a necessary consequence of that spective sectors, we obtain the real course of the law. Perhaps the most satisfactory method of pro- rays, RlqpP. Symmetry appears to be the principal constituent Creation of secuting their examination is to investigate separateof beauty in the forms given to the various works ofsynimetncal ly the mode in which each of the images results d eaKmce ** from the successive reflections by the two mirrors. art which have exercised the skill and ingenuity 0f PP man ; and the richness of each individual ornament, A very simple and convenient rule may be laid down for enabling us to trace the whole course, however as well as the pleasing effect of the whole assemcomplex, of the rays which form these images; and blage, is generally in proportion as this principle has this rule will be best understood by considering, as received a more perfect developement.. Even naan example, its application to one of the remote ture, in the multitude of forms with which she has images in the circular field. Thus, in the circular invested the different tribes of the animal creation, field, AHL, fig. 5, divided into equal sectors by the has, with but few exceptions, followed the law of radii CF, CG, CH, &c. let S be one of the remoter symmetry, in as far as respects the perfect similarity images of the object R, formed by four reflections of the two sides of the body. In almost all the from the mirrors AC, BC; and let E be the place of higher classes, or those which are comprehended the eye. Draw the line ES, intersecting the radii under the great division of vertebrated animals, and already mentioned in P, Q, T, V; make Cq equal in many of the inferior tribes, as in insects, one half to CQ, and join Vq; make Ct equal to CT, and join of the animal-form is the reflected image of the other qt; make Cu equal to C V, and join tv, and t>R. half. A still higher degree of beauty, derived from Then Rvtq PE will be the real course of the rays, by a more extended symmetry of form, has been diswhich the image of R is seen at S by the eye at E; played in the structure of objects in the vegetable for it is sufficiently apparent, without the necessity kingdom. Flowers, in particular, derive a peculiar

165 KALEIDOSCOPE. Kaleido- beauty from their presenting to the eye a symmetri- nation, and by the regularity of the relations that Kaleido. t scope. caj combination of forms with reference to a com- each part bears to all the others. _r-C— mon centre. This is also the general model followHaving thus given an account of the general ed in the structure of radiated animals, of which the principles upon which the kaleidoscope is construct-con(jjtjons. star-fish and sea anemone are examples. In those ed, and of the mode in which it acts, we are now works of art in which there is the greatest scope for prepared to direct our attention to the conditions the indulgence of fancy in the production of pleas- which are required for the perfect performance of ing effects, the most perfect and successful kinds of its functions. ornament are those resulting from a symmetrical arIf the mirrors of the kaleidoscope could reflect Economy of rangement of parts, which is not confined to a single the whole of the light which falls upon them, the%htlateral repetition, but is extended in various direc- images would possess the same degree of brilliancy tions in space, and is multiplied and alternated in as the objects from which they are derived; and different lines, and around different centres. It is their number would be limited only by the more or the latter of these combinations, more especially, less favourable position of the mirrors, and of the that is represented by the kaleidoscope, namely, the eye with relation to the objects. But as a very large disposition of a certain number of pairs of images portion of the incident light is, in most cases, desymmetrically disposed around one or more centres. stroyed by reflection, it follows that each successive On examining the subject more minutely, we find image will be fainter than that which preceded it; that the first element of this symmetry consists in and that in the progress of the reflections we must the union of any particular form, or of its direct very soon arrive at a limit beyond which they beimage, with its reversed image, by which a new form come no longer visible. It is found, from experiis created, composed of two simple forms similar to ment, that the quantity of light lost by reflection is each other, and similarly situated with respect to a in all cases greatest when the rays fall perpendicugiven line. If a succession of these compound larly on the mirror, and least when they fall with the forms be now arranged around a centre, they will greatest obliquity. The difference is more consicombine into a perfect whole, in which all the simi- derable in the case of glass, than in that of metallar parts are brought into union, and which must lic surfaces. Thus, in a common looking-glass, the thus afford pleasure, by enabling the mind readily to images of objects seen by holding it directly oppotake in and comprehend every part at a single glance. site to them, are produced wholly by the surface of The operation of the kaleidoscope is, in this way, to the quicksilver, those reflected by the glass being create regularity and symmetry out of every form too faint to occasion any interference. If the glass that is presented to it, however irregular in itself be placed obliquely, so that the angles of incidence that form may be. Thus, out of the few simple and reflection be large, a greater proportion of light lines contained in fig. Q, the appearance presented will be reflected from the glass, and the images in fig. 6 is created by the instrument. It is scarcely formed by it will be bright enough to be seen, and necessary to observe, that the original lines, which will mix themselves with the images from the quickoccupy the sector between the mirrors, are seen by silver At a certain angle, both sets of images will direct vision, and that their appearance unites it- appear of equal brightness; and by still further inself on each side with their images seen by reflec- creasing the obliquity, those produced by the quicktion. We shall in future designate the whole of the silver will gradually fade away, and vanish, leaving appearance thus produced by the kaleidoscope, by the images produced by the glass perfectly distinct, the term Spectrum. and nearly as brilliant as the objects themselves. Appearances If we examine the effect produced by each eleThe following table, abridged from one given by of polygons, mentary portion of the compound figure of the spec- Dr Brewster, and founded on the experiments of stars,curves, trum^ we shall find that any straight line reaching Bouguer, shows the number of rays reflected from directly across the sector, as^ (fig. 9), is formed by plate glass at various angles of incidence, the numthe kaleidoscope into a regular polygon, having as ber of incident rays being supposed to be 1000. many sides as the numbers into which the circular Complement Rays reflectfield is divided: if it be at right angles to either of Complement Rays reflectof the angles ed out of of the angles ed out of the sides, the polygon will have only half the numof incidence. 1000. of incidence. 1000. ber of sides. A line, as run, crossing the field between the mirrors in an oblique direction, is con112 30 584 verted by the instrument into a polygon of the same 35 543 79 5 number of sides as the former, but with salient and 40 474 57 7^ re-entering angles; that is, into the form of a star, 34 50 412 10 with a number of rays equal to half the number of 60 356 27 12£ sectors. Another line crossing the field in an op25 70 15 299 posite direction, gives another star, having its rays 80 25 222 20 intermediate to those of the former. Curved lines 25 25 90 157 form by their union a multitude of beautiful and With the help of this table, and the method above elegant figures, of which the variety is inexhaustible. Each group, taken separately, possesses its peculiar explained of tracing the course of the rays, and on and intrinsic beauty; but the effect of the whole as- investigating the angles of incidence, the degree of semblage is considerably heightened by the combi- illumination of any part of the spectrum might be

160 KALE ID Kaieido- copulated, were it not for a new condition, termed scope. - Paris, 1813.—CossaliE/ogio, 8. Padua, 1813. —Maurice in Biographic Universelle, XXIII. 8-Paris, 1819(a. m.) LAL ANDE (Joseph Jerome Le F ran^ais £dej), a most zealous and accomplished astronomer, born at Bourg en Bresse, 11th July 1732, was the son of

200 J .alande. .

1, a L petex* Lefi’an^aisj and Marianne Mouchinet^ his wife> His parents were in easy circumstances^ and his education being somewhat too indulgent, the natural quickness and impetuosity of his temper was too little restrained. His eaxdiest taste, like that of most other children, seems to have been for romantic tales, and he was fond of making little stories with the materials that he possessed, but their subjects were chiefly religious. He was in the habit of living much with the Jesuits, and he imbibed from them a predilection for the pulpit; at the age of ten he used to amuse himself with making sermons, and preaching them to a select congregation. The comet of 1744, however, with its long tail, took more forcible possession of his imagination, and he watched it with the most unremitting attention. Having been sent to Lyons, to continue his studies under the Jesuits there, he acquu*ed a taste for poetry and eloquence, and was then inclined to devote himself to literature and to the bar; but an eclipse of the sun recalled his attention to astronomy. His parents wished him to follow the profession of a magistrate, and sent him to Paris with that view ; but he accidentally lodged in a hotel where Delisle had established an observatory, and this circumstance led him to become acquainted with that professor, and to attend his lectures. 1 hese lectures Avere by no means popular; and the want of a more numerous audience made it easy for the professor to accommodate his instructions to the fixed attention and rapid progress of his new pupil, who became singulaidy attached to his master, and to all the methods which he employed. Lalande attended, however, at the same time, the physicomathematical lectures of Lemonnier, who was more in credit as a teacher, and who also took great pains for his improvement. In the meantime he had completed his legal studies, and at the age of eighteen he was called to the bar as an advocate. His family was anxious for his return to Boux-g; but just at that time Lemonnier obtained leave to nominate him as a substitute for himself on an astronomical mission to Berlin, where he was to make observations on the lunar parallax, corresponding with those which Lacaille was sent to the Cape to obtain. He was favourably received by Maupertuis, who introduced him to Frederic and his court; and was made a Member of the Academy of Sciences at Berlin, when he was about nineteen. He remained a year in that city, observing at night, and passing his mornings in the study of the integral calculus, under Euler’s direction; and his evenings in the society of Voltaire, Maupertuis, D’Argens, and other men of talents. It was not likely that the intercourse with such persons should confirm the principles which he had imbibed from the Jesuits; his moral conduct, however, does not appear to have been influenced by his change of sentiments. After his return to Bourg, he pleaded a few causes to oblige his friends; but the success of his operations at Berlin obtained him speedily a place in the Academy of Sciences at Paris; for, in 1753, before he was twenty-one, he was cliosen to 1

L A L fill up a vacancy in the department of astronomy, Lalatule. which had been open for some years. Fie soon after offended his friend Lemonnier, by rejecting too harshly an unfounded objection of that astronomer to his xnethod of computing the effect of the earth’s ellipticity on the lunar parallax, which differed from Euler’s formula. Lacaille, who drew up the report of a committee appointed on the occasion, decided in Lalande’s favour; but Lemonnier remained dissatisfied, and would not see him for twenty years. He had some similar discussions, at a later period, with Dusejour, who was a little too severe in criticizing some of his approximations, as if they had been intended to be rigidly accurate ; but their personal friendship remained unaltered. For more than fifty years he continued to be a constant and voluminous contributor to the Memoirs of the Parisian Academy, as well as to other scientific collections. His investigations were always judiciously directed to the advancement of astronomy; but they can scarcely ever be said to have exhibited any marked features of talent, or of address, beyond what might be expected from the industry of a man of good ordinary abilities, confining himself almost entirely to one subject. He was always anxious to call the public attention to astronomy as a science, and to himself as an individual. Thus, on occasion of the transits of Venus in 1761 and 17f>9j he addressed a circular letter to most of the governments of Europe, on the importance of obtaining a multiplicity of collateral observations, and he received in reply several invitations, from sovereigns whose countries were more favourably situated for the purpose than France, to come and make the observations in person. He thought it, however, unnecessary to leave Paris on the occasion ; he contented himself with being the first to announce to the public the result of the most satisfactory comparisons; and his countrymen seemed to give him almost the whole credit of every thing that had been done by others, in conformity with his suggestions. He was much mortified, however, in not receiving from Father Hell an account of the observations made at Wardhus: and he was afterwards greatly inclined to dispute their accuracy, because Hell made the parallax smaller than he did by j of a second: while the mean of both results, which is 8, 6", agrees extremely well with the most modern computations: but, in the end, he did justice to the importance of Hell’s observations. He was constantly in the habit of passing a few months every year with his family in the country, and he occasionally amused himself, in the course of these visits, with mineralogical excursions, and with chemical studies. He delivered, about the year 1758, an oration, before a public assembly at Lyons, on the advantage of monarchy above every other form of government; he even adhered to a similar opinion, and expressed it openly, in times when nothing but his celebrity, as a man devoted exclusively to science, could have made it safe for him to declare it. After having published the Astronomical Tables of Halley, he felt the necessity of a new collection, and determined to begin with those of Mercury, which he found the most imperfect. He pursued, for this

L A L l alande. purpose,, a regular course of observations at the Palais Royal, where he used to go before sunrise, in the winter mornings, to see the planet in the twilight. Having occasion to refer to the observations recorded by Ptolemy, he found it necessary to refresh his acquaintance with the Greek language, which he had in some measure neglected. But, with all his labour and diligence, his tables of Mercury exhibited, in 1786, an error of 40 minutes in the time of a transit: the circumstance mortified him extremely; but it led to a revision of the tables, and he afterwards succeeded in making them much more perfect. It must be recollected, that, in the time of Hevelius, a transit was anxiously expected for four whole days before it occurred. He next undertook to improve the tables of Mars and Venus: his tables of these planets were, on the whole, less accurate than those of Mercury, though more exempt from great occasional errors. He had computed their perturbations in the Memoirs of the Academy; but he never thought it worth while to compare his formulas with observation. The irregularities of Jupiter and Saturn were much more discouraging; he was obliged to confine himself, in discussing them, to the most modern observations ; and he did not appear sufficiently to appreciate the empirical equations of Lambert, though they greatly diminished the errors of Halley’s tables. When Maraldi had given up the management of the Connaissance des Terns, Lalande and Pingre were candidates for the appointment. Lalande succeeded in obtaining it; but he had the modesty to confess that the work would have been more accurately performed by Pingre, if his connexion with the church had not, according to the rules of the Academy, incapacitated him for the situation. He made the work, however, much more popular, as a miscellaneous publication, than Pingre was likely to have done; and he was less prejudiced than Pingre in the choice of his tables. He remained editor of the work from 1760 to 1775; it was conducted by Jeaurat from 1776 to 1787? and from 1788 to 1793 by Mechain: Lalande then undertook it once more ; Mechain being engaged in some measurements with Delambre, the Academy having been abolished, and its members dispersed. Lalande had been disposed to call in question the assertion of Newton and of Voltaire, that no comet could possibly come into contact with the earth; and he had proved that the effect of perturbations at least rendered their reasonings somewhat inconclusive. A short memoir on the subject, which was to have been read at a public sitting of the Academy, was accidentally omitted, as not very important, from the pressure of other business. This circumstance alarmed the sensibility of the public of Paris, who fancied that Lalande had foretold some dreadful catastrophe, which the Government was afraid to announce; and when the memoir was published, they insisted that its contents had been modified, to lessen the alarm. Dusejour made some objections to the author’s reasoning: but the whole affair was soon forgotten. A memoir on the length of the year was honour-

L A L 201 ed with a prize by the Academy at Copenhagen. Lalande. Delambre, however, thinks the determination not so good as the earlier one of Lacaille, though much better than Mayer’s, which was more commonlv adopted. Lalande took great pains also with the subject of the sun’s rotation, employing in his computations of the places of the spots an easy approximation, instead of Dusejour’s more laborious methods ; but being careful to compare with each other the most distant observations of the same spot. From the existence of this rotation he thought it reasonable to infer that the sun had also most probably a progressive motion, which would naturally be produced by any single impulse capable of occasioning a rotation. He had some discussions with Dr Maskelyne, respecting the mode of computing the equation of time, in which Maskelyne appears to have had the advantage. In the year 1762, Delisle resigned in his favour the Professorship of Astronomy in the College de France, which he kept for nearly 46 years. He allowed the most attentive of his pupils to board with him at a cheap rate, doing his utmost on all occasions to promote their success in their sudies and in life. Thus he brought forwards Mechain and Dagelet, and afterwards his own nephew, who completed, with so much diligence and accuracy, the Description of the Heavens, which he had himself projected, and which had been begun by Dagelet before his unfortunate expedition. He was made a Fellow of the Royal Society of London in 1763. His health was generally good, though his constitution was delicate. He had an attack of jaundice in 1767? which was attributed to intense application ; but he completely recovered from its effects by an attention to diet, and by the use of horse exercise. He then intended to leave all his property to the Academy; but he afterwards gave up his family estates to his relations, and lived on his appointments only, refraining from all kinds of luxuries, in order to be the more able to do acts of liberality to his friends, whom he always sought to oblige in the most delicate manner, and often without making his services known. He had a pension from Russia in the time of the Empress Catherine ; it was suspended by Paul, but restored in 1805 by Alexander. He was not particularly successful as an observer, but used to refer to the works of his contemporaries, Bradley and Lacaille, though not exactly according to the expression of one of his biographers, “as Ptolemy had done to those of Hipparchusfor Hipparchus must have been dead two centuries before Ptolemy was born. On the occasion of the disappearance of the ring of Saturn in 1774, he went to Beziers, in order to profit by the superior serenity of the air there, the climate of that country being supposed to be the best in France; but his observations were less valuable than others made at Paris and in London. In the year 1798? he undertook an astronomical expedition to Gotha. He had once meditated an aerostatical voyage there; but his companion took care that their dangers should terminate in the Bois de Boulogne. He was received with much interest

202 L A L Lalande. at Gotha by an assembly of astronomers, that was collected from different parts of Germany. The object of the congress was perhaps not unmixed with personal vanity; but it had no political design to promote, unless the general adoption of the new French measures could be considered as a political object. Lalande was by no means a revolutionist: he was sufficiently free from any prejudices of education ; but he openly condemned the political opinions of the day; and, in 1792, he even exposed himself to great personal danger, in order to save the life of Dupont de Nemour, after the 10th August ; and he was equally useful to some of the clergy, whom he concealed in the buildings of the Observatory at the College Mazarin, making them pass for astronomers. He had also the courage to publish accounts of Lavoisier and Bailly a short time after their deaths. The attentions of the German astronomers gave him sincere pleasure. He was at all times extremely sensible to compliments, and even to flattery, though very regardless of satire. He used to call himself a sponge for praise, and an oil-cloth for censure. He professedly believed himself endowed with all the virtues, modesty not excepted. He was so fond of notoriety, that he once undertook to exhibit the variations of the light of Algol to the public of Paris on the Pont Neuf; but the police interfered, thinking it right to prevent a disorderly assemblage. Though Lalande can only be classed in the second rank as an inventive astronomer, or a mathematician, he certainly stands in the first as a professor and a popular writer. His methods of calculation have in most instances been already superseded by others more convenient or more exact; those which related to particular phenomena for want of sufficient precision, and those which were more general for want of being readily applicable, without continual repetition, to a sufficient number of concurring observations. It has been observed, that he may perhaps have been often too zealous in the pursuit of his favourite objects; but that, if he had possessed more circumspection, and less vivacity of character, he would have been more exempt from criticism, but he would have rendered less important services to science and to mankind. His last illness was of a consumptive nature, and he seems to have accelerated its termination by attempting too much to harden himself. He died 4th April 1807, nearly 75 years old, and in the perfect possession of his faculties. His last words, when he dismissed his attendants to rest, were, “ I have need of nothing more,” and in a few minutes he was dead. Had he survived a few hours, he would have received a letter from Dr Gibers, announcing the discovery of a new planet; for which that distinguished astronomer afterwards received the fourth prize medal upon the institution founded by Lalande in 1802, for the most important astronomical discovery made in the course of the year. Ofhis voluminous and diversified publications asimple enumeration of the subjects will perhaps be thought too long for perusal, though not improper for inser-

L A L tion in a work, which ought to comprehend a com- Lalande. plete literary history or bibliography of the sciences, 1. We find, in the Memoirs of the Parisian Academy of Sciences for 1751, an account of his Observations at Berlin; which also appears in the Memoirs of Berlin for 1749; and a Latin translation in the Acta Eruditorum for August 1752. 2, 3. 175253. An Essay on the Lunar Parallax. 4. 1754. A transit of Mercury. 5. Elements of Mars. 6. 1755. Longitude of Berlin. 7- Lunar Eclipse. 8. 1756. Transit of Mercury. 9- Lunar parallax continued. 10. 1757* Observations at the Luxembourg. 11. Transit of Venus. 12. Secular equations and mean motions. 13. A gnomenical problem. 14- Meridian altitudes. 15. 1758. Perturbations of Mars by Jupiter. 16. Motions of' the planetary nodes, if. Change of latitudes of the stars. 18. 1759. Comet of 1682 and 1759- 19- 1760. Sun’s diameter. 20. Perturbation of Venus by the earth. 21. Eclipse of 1760. 22. 1761. Solar parallax. 23. Interpolation. 24. Transit of Venus observed. 25. Solar parallax. 26. Transit computed. 27. Observed at Tobolsk. 28. In Denmark. 29. Compasses, and the variation. 30. Perturbation of Mars by the earth. 31. Planetary nodes. 32. 1762. Equation of time. 33. Obliquity of the ecliptic. 34. Horary motion in transits. 35. Nodes of Jupiter s satellites. 36. Diameter of Venus. 37. Comet of 1762. 38. 1763. Eclipses of Jupiter’s satellites. 39. Solar eclipses for a spheroid. 40. Triangles, rectilinear and spherical. 41. 1764. Transit of 1769. 42. Lunar Miration. 43. 1765. Motion of Saturn. 44. Eclipses of Jupiter’s satellites. 45. The third satellite. 46,47. 1766. Theory of Mercury. 50. 1768. Opposition of Jupiter. 51. Transit of 1769. 52. Orbit of Saturn. 53. 1769. Lunar observations. 54. Comet of 1769- 55. Transit of Venus. 56. A solar eclipse. 57. Transit of Venus. 58, 59> 60. Comparisons of observations. 61. 1779* Solar parallax. 62. Sun’s diameter. 63. Appearances in the transit. 64. Chappe's observation. 65. 177L Theory of Mercury. 66. Astronomical observations. 67. Solar parallax. 68. 1772. Transit of Venus. 69. Tides. 70. 1773. Comets. 71. Saturn’s ring. 72. 1774. An opposition of Saturn. 73. Saturn s ring. 74. Disappearance of the ring, at Begiers. 75. 1775. Opposition of Mars. 76. Elements of Mars. 77* Same latitudes and longitudes. 78. Opposition of Jupiter and Saturn. 79. An eclipse of Saturn. 80. 1776. Spots and rotation of the sun. 81. 1777. Observations at Paris and Madrid. 82. An observation of Mercury. 83. Longitude of Padua. 84. The solar spots, continued. 85. 1779. Third satellite of Jupiter. 86. Theory of Venus. 87. Herschel. 88. 1780. Obliquity of the ecliptic. 89. Precession of the equinoxes. 90. Fourth satellite of Jupiter. 9b 1782. Duration of the year. 92. A transit of Mercury. 93. 1783. An eclipse of the sun. 9b Inclination of the orbits. 95. 1784. Elements of Jupiter. 96. Ellipticity of the earth. 97. 1785. Motion of Venus. 98. 1786. Secular equations of the sun and moon. 99. Mass of Venus. 100. Equation of Mars. 101. Mars in quadrature. 102, Orbit of Saturn. 103. Theory of 4

L A L Ltdande. Mercury, fijth memoir. 1041. Satellites of Jupiter. 105. Fifth of Saturn. 106. 1787. Fernel’s measurement. 107. Herschel’s. 108. Jupiter's third satellite. 109. Conjunction of Venus. 110. Motion of Saturn. 111. Inclination of Saturn. 112. Answer to Lemonnier, on lunar observations. 113. Solar eclipses of 1181. Mb. Eclipse of 1666. 115. Caspian sea. 116. 1787. Eclipse of \165. 117.1788. Eclipses applied to longitudes. 118. Conjunction of Venus, lip. Lunar parallax, fourth memoir. 120. Moon’s diameter. 121. Jupiter’s fourth satellite, 122. Satellites of Saturn. 123. Light of Algol. 124;. Height of the Seine. 125. 1789. Epacts. 126. Observations of 8000 stars, first part. 127. Motion of Venus. 128. Astronomical observations. 129* Observation of Mercury. 130. Tides. 131. Catalogue of stars, second part. 132. 1790. Disappearance of Saturn’s ring. 133. Interior (f Africa. 1341. Mem. Inst. I. 1798. Orbit of Mercury. 135. II. 1797- Occultations of Aldebaran. 136. Solar eclipse of 1706. 137- Solar eclipse of 1748. 138. V. 1803. Zodiac at Strasburg. 139. Eclipses calculated. 140. Opposition of Mars. 141, 142. Motion of Venus. 143. Motion of Mercury. 144. VI. 1806. A transit of Mercury. 145. The earliest of his separate publications appear to have been two little volumes, intended for provincial circulation only, entitled Etrennes Historiques, 24. Par. 1755-6. 146. Another little article of his miscellaneous works was a Discours qui a remporte le prix de l’Academic de Marseille, en 1757. Mars. 1757. The subject was the spirit of justice, as tending to the glory and the stability of a government. 147. We have then Three letters on platina. Jour, des Sav. 1758. Jan. Jun. 1760. Feb. 148. Letter on a new sun dial. Jour. Sav. Jun. 1758. ii. 439. The lines being invisible when the sun does not shine. 149. Tables astronomiques de Halley, 2 v. 8. Paris, 1759. Containing several new tables, and an elaborate history of the comet of 1759, of which the author had computed the perturbations, according to the theory of Clairaut. 150. Connaissance des terns, 16 vols. 8vo. Par. 1760-1775. 14 vol. 1794-1807. This work contains, besides, the Ephemeris, an important selection of the most useful astronomical papers. On one occasion, for temporary reasons, these papers were published in a separate volume. 151. Exposition du calcul astronomique. 8. Paris, 1762. A companion to the almanac. 152. Oraison funebre de Maurice Comte de Saxe, 8. Par. 1760. 153. Art du Papetier, f. Par. 1761. 154. Parcheminier, 1762. 155. Carlonnier, 1764. 156. Chamoiseur, 1764s. 157* Tanneur, 1764. 158. Megissier, 1765. 159. Maroquinier, 1766. 160. Hengroyeur, 1766. l6l. Corroyeur, 176*7. 163. Letter on Delisle’s calculations, Journ. Sav. Apr. 1761. 164-5. In the 52d volume of the Philosophical Transactions for 1761 and 1762, we find several papers of Lalande; two On the transit of Venus ; 166. one On Norwood’s measurement of the earth; 167- An Account of a comet; and, 168. An account of occultations of the fixed stars by the moon. 169. In the Transactions for'1769, another paper on the transit of Venus. VOL. V. PART II.

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170. Discours sur la douceur, 1763. This essay J.alande. was intended as a sort of exercise for the author’s own moral improvement; and he made it a rule to read it over and over every year, in order to assist him in commanding his temper. He may possibly have derived some little advantage from the practice, but he never acquired enough of self-command to refrain from wounding the feelings of another, by any pointed remark that might suddenly occur to him. 171- Astronomic, 2 v. 4. Paris, 1764. 3 v. 1771, 1792, Vol. IV. 1780, not reprinted. This compilation far excelled, in utility, all former Avorks of the kind, and will always be considered as exhibiting the most perfect picture of the science, such as it existed from 1760 to 1790, with all the details of practice and computation. Lemonnier called it, with some truth, the great newspaper of astronomy. The Treatise on the Tides, which constitutes the fourth volume, is chiefly a collection of observations, not sufficient even for the basis of a complete theory: an abstract of it may be found in the Mem. Acad. Dijon, II. 1774. 172. Figure du passage de Venus de 1769, Paris, 1764. Together with an explanatory memoir. 173. On the equation of time. Recue il pour les astronomes, 1765. 174. He undertook the mathematical department1 of the Journal des Savans, from 1766. 175. On the coins of Piedmont, Journ. Sav. Dec. 1767. 176. Voyage d’un Frangois en Italie, 8 vol. 12. A correct guide and faithful repertory for travellers, containing some scientific information, besides maps of the principal cities. 177- Dissertation sur la cause de Velevation des liqueurs dans les tubes capillaircs, 8. Par. 1770. 178. A dictionary of astronomy, in the Encyclopedic d’Yverdun, 56 v. 4. 1770-6. 179Abrege d’ astronomic, 8. Par. 1773, 1795, translated into various languages. 180. Notes on the Mondes of Fontenelle, 24, Paris, often reprinted. 181. Notes on Bouguer’s Traite de Navigation. 182. Memoir e sur le passage de Venus, 4. Par. 1773; with a life of Dr Bevis. 183. Reflexions sur les cometes qui peuvent approches de la terre, 8. Par. 1773. 184. Letirc a Cassini sur I’anneau de Saturne, 8. Toulouse, 1773; a violent attack, which was speedily suppressed by the author. 185. Epkemerides, 3 vol. VII. VIII. IX. Paris, 1774, 1792. This was a continuation of Lacaille’s computations, containing also some detached articles of importance; for instance, Hampstead’s catalogue, in the eighth volume. 186. A celestial 12-inch globe. Paris, 1775. 187- The Astronomical articles in the Supplement of the Old Encyclopedic, about 1776: those of Dalembert, in the body of the work, having been little more than extracts from Lemonnier. 188. To the Encyclopedic Methodique Lalande contributed a Dictionary of Astronomy, making about one-third of the Malhematiques, 3 vol. 4to. They Avere principally extracted from his own astronomy ; and the article Cadran, Avhich is very elaborate, was originally intended for a fifth volume of that work. 189* Traite des cannaux de navigation, ft Paris, 1778. This volume is principally descriptive, and especially of the canal of Languedoc. 190. Letter on the variation of the compass, as connected with the temperature of the earth, Journ. Sav, 1780. Sept. nd

204 LAM Lalande 191. Legons d’astronomic de Lacaille, 8. Par. 1780.

LAM copying clerk in the chancery of the town, which Lambert, v Lambert " ^ some Notes. 192. Astronomic, in Bibliotheque he gave up, when he was only 15, upon being ap- — des Dames, 12. Par. 1786, 1795. pointed book-keeper at some iron-works in the 193. Letter on the name of the planet Herschel, neighbourhood. At 17, he became secretary to a Journ. Sav. 1789. Objecting to “ Uranus.” 194. Doctor Iselin, who was the editor of a newspaper at Description d’une machine de M. Ramsden, 4. Paris, Bale, and who became his firm friend through life. 1790. The dividing engine, translated. 195. Ac- He had now time to render himself familiar with count of nine Lalandes, Journ. Sav. Nov. 1791. the works of Wolf, Locke, and Malebranche, to 196. Journey to Mannheim in 1791. Journ. Sav. which he wras in a great measure indebted for the 1791. 197. On the zodiac at Strasburg, Journ. correct logical method that he ever after followed in Sav. 1791* , his researches ; having, however, confirmed and imJ98. Abrege de Navigation, 4. Paris, 1793. With proved it by the study of the mathematics, to which a full catalogue of works relating to the subject, he devoted himself with great zeal, and which, after and many useful tables. 199. A Journey to Mont all, constitutes the best practical school of genuine Blanc, performed in 1796. Mag. Encycl. II. iv. 433. logic. 200. Histoire Celeste Frungaise, I. 4. Par. 1801. In 1748, he removed to Coire, having been reContaining the catalogue of stars begun by Dage- commended by Iselin, as private tutor to the family let, and continued by Michel Lefran^ais Lalande, of the President Count Peter de Salis, whom he unthe nephew of the editor. 201. Continuation of dertook to instruct in history and religion, as well Montucla’s Histoire des Mathematiques, 2 v. 4. Par. as in languages and science. The library of his 1802 ; making the third and fourth of that elaborate patron w'as extensive ; he profited by it in all its dework, but not equally wrell digested and discussed partments ; and his residence at the house of an acwith the original part. 202. Tables de Logarithmes, complished statesman, frequented, as it w as, by the 18. Par. 1802. 203. Four memoirs o» Ceres, Journ. best informed persons of different countries and with Phys. 1802. 204. Some articles in the Nurologe different pursuits, could not but greatly contribute des hommes cilebres. He wrote, at different times, to the extension of his knowledge, and the improveaccounts of the lives of Vicq d’Azyr, Delisle, Com- ment of his taste. He even amused himself with merson, Verron, Me. Lepaute, and Dubocage; and some poetical exercises in various languages, which he had undertaken a life of Bucholz, a short time must, at least, have been of advantage to his style in before he died : Commerson had complimented him prose. He felt the importance of his literary and by making a genus Lalandia, trangressing in his scientific pursuits to himself and to the world, and favour the classical canon of the Botanists, to reserve in 1752, he determined to keep a journal of all his such honours for the reward of merit in their own studies, which he continued throughout his life; he department. began to publish a variety of fugitive pieces, on 205. Bibliographic Astronomique, 4. Paris, 1803. different subjects, in the newspapers and in other With a history of the Progress of Astronomy from periodical works of the day, some of which attracted 1781 to 1802. This useful volume was printed at the notice of his learned countrymen; and, in 1754, the public expence, under the auspices of Francois he was made a member of the Physico-medical Sode IS eufchateau. Ihe author possessed a very ex- ciety, then lately established at Bale, to the Transtensive collection of astronomical books, and it has actions of wThich he contributed many interesting been regretted that he did not insert a more com- papers. In 1756 he went to Gottingen with two plete account of some of the most rare; but the of his pupils, and in 1757 to Utrecht. The next work is already sufficiently voluminous. Some other year the party returned to Coire, by way of Paris, pioductions are attributed to him in the Dictionnaire Marseilles, and Turin. At Paris he paid a visit to des Anonymes ; but they would probably have add- Dalembert, who does not appear at that time to have ed little to his fame, had they been acknowledged. appreciated his merit very highly, though he after(Delambre, Mem. List. VIII. 1807. H. P.30, and wards rendered him some services with the King of Biographic Universelle,NSl\l. 8. Paris, 1819. Ma. Prussia ; but he became more intimately acquainted C. deSalm, Magaz. Encycl. 1810, ii. P.288; in- with Messier the astronomer. cluding a sketch by himself, written in 1804.) In 1759 he quitted the family of the Count de (e. x.) Salis, and went to settle at Augsburg, having a small LAMBERT (John Henry), a natural and moral salary as a member of the Electoral Academy of philosopher of great talent and originality, born Bavaria. From 1761 to 1763 he was again at Coire 29th August 1728, at Mulhausen in Upper Alsace, and in its neighbourhood, being employed in fixing was the son of a French refugee in a very humble the boundaries between the country of the Orisons station, and one of a numerous family. and the Milanese territory. Towards the end of His early studies were only assisted by the in- 1763, having had some disputes with the Bavarian struction he obtained at a small free school in his academicians, he went to Leipzig, and the next year native town. His father, wlio was a tailor, could to Berlin, where he was made a member of the Royal scarcely even afford him leisure from mechanical Academy of Sciences, and where he continued to labour; he was obliged to read and write in the reside during the remainder of his life, receiving night, and in order to procure candles, he made many marks of favour from the discriminating lilittle drawings for sale, while he was watching the berality of Frederic : thus, in the year 1770, he was cradle of his infant sisters. Having learned to write made superior counsellor of the Board of Works, a good hand, he obtained some employment as a with an additional salary. He contributed a num-

LAM Lambert, ber of valuable memoirs to the collection of the Academy, and in 1774 he undertook the direction of the Astronomical Almanac, for which he was admirably qualified. He was also a constant writer in the journal published by Nicolai^ under the title of the Universal German Library ; and he kept up a very extensive correspondence on various subjects of literature and science. He was regularly in the habit of writing or reading from five in the morning till twelve; and again from two till midnight; a degree of application unquestionably far beyond that which would have been best calculated for producing the maximum of valuable effect.—Perhaps, if he was paid for writing by the ream, he may have earned as much from the booksellers as he would have done by a more judicious economy of his powers; but a nervous system, attenuated by the daily study of 17 hours, could never have been capable of being employed in any very elevated flights of genius, or in the invention of any sublime or exquisite novelties either in science or in literature: and it is only wonderful that he did any thing so well, as almost to form an exception to this general remark. Pie wras indeed supposed to have injured his health by continued application, and he died consumptive at 49? the 25th September 1777* He had never been married. His person was of the middle size, with an interesting and expressive countenance ; he was animated and lively in conversation, and liked discussion, but not disputation. He had no literary quarrels i and his criticisms were not offensive, even when they ceased to be flattering. His morals were strictly correct, but his manners were not altogether in unison with those of the society to which his talents had elevated him : he is said to have been timid, awkward, slovenly, and fond of low company; but upright, patient, unostentatious, and compassionate; essentially modest, but as ready to assert his own merits, as to admit his defects. He had a happy facility in managing the instruments of computation, especially in the arrangement of converging series ; and he had a peculiar talent for expressing the results of observation by an analytical formula; having first thrown them into the form of a geometrical diagram to assist his invention; a process which he employed with regard to the probabilities of life in London, and to the inequalities of Jupiter and Saturn. In short, after Euler, Lagrange, Dalembert, and Daniel Bernoulli, there are few mathematicians and natural philosophers of any age who can be put in competition with him, and still fewer who benefited the public by so many diversified labours. It would be hopeless to attempt to pursue his indefatigable pen through all its wanderings; and a complete catalogue of his works would be as useless as it is unattainable. A man who wrote so incessantly must have written many things which were destined to oblivion from their first production. It will be sufficient to mention the most remarkable of his works, without any very strict regard to the priority of their publication. I. In the Acta Helvetica of the Society of Bale, II. 1752, we find an Essay on the force and measurement of heat, a subject which the author resumed in the

LAM 205 latter part of his life. 2. A general series, somewhat Lambert, resembling Taylor’s. Act. Helv. III. 1758. 3. Meteorological observations. Ibid. 4. He also published a paper On the vibration of chords in the same collection. 5. Les proprietes les plus remarquables de la route de la lumiere par les airs, et en general par plusieurs milieux refringents. 8. Hague, 1759. German by Tempelhof. Berk 1773- This work does credit to the ingenuity and mathematical abilities of the author, though its results may be obtained in a simpler manner by some methods more recently invented. 6. La perspective libre. 8. Zurich, 1759. Another edition, in German. The second German edition, 2 v. 8. Zurich, 1773, contains some additional matter, especially a system of geometry, depending, as it is said, upon the ruler alone, without any other instrument. Such a system must, however, have been extremely limited in its application, much more so than Mascheroni’s Geometria del Compasso. 7. Photometria, sive de mensura et gradibus luminis colorum et umbrae. 8. Augsb. 1760. This original and interesting volume includes and supersedes the greater part of Bouguer’s experimental determinations. It contains the important discovery that a luminous surface emits its light with equal intensity in all directions; together with some improvements in the theory of twilight, and an investigation of the comparative light of the sun and moon, and stars and planets. 8. Insigniores orbitae cometarum proprietates, 8. Augsb. 1761. We here find the elegant theorem for expressing the relation of the area of a sector to the sides of the triangle inscribed in it. This theorem had been demonstrated with respect to the parabola by Euler, in 1740; but Lambert first extended it to the other conic sections; and he certainly reinvented the whole, without being aware of what Euler had done. It may be found, together with a concise demonstration, and a further account of this work, in the translation of Olbers’s Essay on Comets, which has lately been published in the Journal of the Royal Institution. 9. Cosmologische Briefe. 8. Augsb. 1761. A French translation of these Letters on the Universe appeared in the Journal Helvetique of Neuchdtel, 1763-4; an extract was published by Merian, with the title of Systeme du Monde, 8. Bouillon, 1770; Berlin, 1784; and a translation by Darquier appeared at Amsterdam, 8.1801. The whole work is written in a popular style, and adapted to the taste of general readers. The author’s favourite idea was to make the sun a sort of planet, revolving round some other great body ; and he supports the opinion by an argument derived from the supposed insufficiency of the laws of gravity, as relating to the solar system, for explaining some of the inequalities of the motion of Jupiter and Saturn, which have, however, since been reduced to the general analogy by Lagrange and Laplace. 10. Zusdtze zum traite de nivellement Von Picard, 12th August 1761, explaining some improvements on Picard’s level, executed by Brander, an ingenious artist whom Lambert also assisted in the improvement of Gunter’s sliding rule. 11. He published an

206 LAM LAM Lambert explanation of this scale, entitled, Logarithmische re* 32. Remarks on the velocity of sound. M. Ac. L '~**m‘'''**^* chenstlibe. 12th August 1761. Berl. 1768; an unsuccessful attempt to reconcile^ 12. Remarks on incommensurable quantities, Mem. the theory with observation; it was reserved for Ac. Berl. 1761. A demonstration of the incommen- Laplace, by a single happy suggestion, to remove surability of the circumference of a circle to its dia- the whole difficulty. 33. On photometry, as applied meter, which has been adopted by Legendre in his to painting. Ibid. 34. Trigonometrical observations. geometry. It depends on the method of reducing Ibid. a fraction to its lowest terms, as laid down by Eu35. De Topicis Schediasma, 1768. 36. Retnarks clid, and on the properties of continual fractions; on the divisors of numbers. Nov. Act. Erud. 1769. an expression is obtained for a tangent in terms of 37. Anmerkungen iiber die Branderschen micrometern, the arc from the quotient of the series for the sine Augsb. 1769. Brander’s micrometers were of glass. and cosine, and the continual fraction thus obtained 38. Experiments on Hygrometry. M. Acad. Berl. is proved to be infinite. It is also shown, that the 1769; relating to evaporation, and to the indicaratio of the arc to its tangent can never be expressed tions of hygrometers, especially those of catgut. by any finite quadratic surds. 13. On the specific 39. Supplementa tabularum logarithmicarum, 8. gravity of salt, and of its solutions, M. Berl. 1762. Berk 1770. With a valuable introduction in Ger14. Novum organum, 2 v. 8. Leipzic, 1763. In man, on the abridgment of computations. German. An attempt to restore and improve the 40. Anmerkungen uber die krqft des Schiesspulvers, Aristotelian method of syllogism, in which the au- 8. Berl. 1770. In this investigation of the force of thor is allowed to have displayed much ingenuity, fired gunpowder, the author attacks several points though its success was greatly limited, on the one in the theory of Robins, published a few years behand, by the sober good sense of the empirical rea- fore. soners of the school of Bacon and Locke, and, on the 41. Hygrometrie, 4. Augsb. 1770. other, by the wild enthusiasm of the German inno42. On directors for the light of lamps. M. Acad. vators, who were beginning to be intoxicated with Berl. 1770. 43. On ink and paper. Ibid. 44. A?iathe high sounding phrases and exaggerated preten- lytical observations. Ibid, relating to the general sions of the disciples of Kant. A manuscript Latin theorem resembling Taylor’s, which was further translation of the work, by Pfleiderer, was once in discussed by Euler, and modified by Lagrange. the possession of the late Lord Stanhope. 45. On Taxeometry, or the measurement of order. Ibid. 15. A paper On trigonometry appears in the Nova considered as comparable in degree, and expressiAda Eruditorum for 1763. 16. In theBerlin Memoirs ble by numbers. for the same year, we find an Essay on acoustic instru46. Archilectonik, 2 v. 8. Riga, 1771. A logical ments, investigating the best forms for hearing trum- and metaphysical treatise on the most simple bases pets. 17* Remarks on the properties of equations of of philosophical and mathematical knowledge, writall degrees. 18. On divisors of equations, which may ten in 1763. The last part, wTiich relates to magbe found ivithout solving them. 19. On some measure- nitude, is the most approved; but the whole work ments relating to the intellectual voorld; that is, on was never much read, being partly superseded by probabilities and expectations. the more ostentatious novelties of the day. 20. Beytrage zur mathematik, 4 v. 8. Berlin, 1765, 47. In the Berlin Memoirs for 1771, we find pa1770, 1772. A collection of essays on every depart- pers on Meteorology. 48. On the atmospheric influment of mathematical science. The first volume ence of the moon. 49. On achromatic telescopes of contains Remarks on trigonometry, and on the cer- one kind of glass only. 50. On the apparent paths of tainty of observations; On the divisors of numbers, comets. 51. On the groutids of superstitious belief, as and On annuities: the second, Tables of the moon; An compared with probability. essay on dialling, and On geographical projections, 52. Ueber das Farbenpyramide, 8. Berl. 1772. A with the Elements of Tetragonometry, a subject which description of a pyramid of wax, intended for the r w as afterwards resumed by the younger Mayer ; in illustration of all the possible varieties of combinathe third volume, there is an Essay on interpolation ; tion of the primitive colours. Remarks on celestial maps, writh other articles. 53. Astronomisches Jahrbuch, 8. Berl. 1774-9. An 21. Description of a table of eclipses, Berl. 1765, accurate and extensive ephemeris, with many oriwith the easiest mode of computing them. 22. In ginal communications annexed to it. the Memoirs of the Academy of Berlin for 1765, we 54. In the M. A. Berl. 1772, a paper On Friction : have a paper on Projectiles, including the effect of re- supposed to follow the law of the resistance of fluids; sistance. 23. In those of the Bavarian Academy for the with some remarks on that resistance. The opinion same year, some remarks On the improvement of terres- of the uniformity of the force of friction, which was trial measurements,and, 24. Meteorological observations. even at that time general, was somewhat too hastily 25. In the N. Acta Erud. for 1765, An attempt to em- rejected by the author: but his computations may ploy calculation in the moral sciences. 26. On the still be of use in some cases. 55. On the fluidity of magnet. Ac. Berl, 1766. 27. Another paper On sa?id: as resisting motion. 56. On hygrcmietry: magnetic currents. 28. A magnetic chart was pub- continued. 57. On the density of the air, with relished separately the same year. 29. Remarks on spect to sound and to refraction. the general outline of the ocean. Ac. Berl. 1767. 58. M. A. Berl. 1773. A Balistic scale: for de30. A general solution of the problem of three bodies termining the paths of projectiles in the atmosphere. by means of series. Ibid. 31. Notes on Richer s phi- SQ. Physical observations, relating to Meteorology losophical algebra, 1767* and to Optics. 60. On the satellite of Venus: af8

LAMP S. 207 to exist without a supply of oil derived from animals Lamps, Lambert fording a remarkable instance of misapplied labour V II and ingenuity. 6l. A second essay on Taxeomeiry. or from vegetables ; and in the more fertile regions Lamps. ^ 1lQie 01l iJie inequalities of Jupiter and Saturn : several different plants, peculiar to each region, are intended to confirm the principles advanced in the cultivated on account of the fixed oil which is excosmological letters: the detail was reserved for a tracted from their seeds by pressure. These oils vary in quality. The oils fit to be employed in subsequent volume. 63. M. A. l]erl. 1774. On the temperament of food are the most valued. Of the rest many have musical instruments. 64. On aerial perspective. the qualities which fit them for burning in lamps. At Paris, oil of rape-seed, and oil of poppy-seed, 65. Report on a bedstead for sick persons. 66. M. A. Bed. 1775. On the elasticity of the are clarified for the lamp by filtering through cotair. 67- On windmills, and on the force of the ton, wool, and other processes. In the south of wind. 68. On the sounds of flutes: An elaborate France and Italy the inferior kind of olive oil is comparison of the various tones of a flute with the used in lamps, and sometimes the oil of the plant theory of Daniel Bernoulli for determining the called Arachis hypogcea, or earth-nut. In Italy, lamp oil has been pressed from the stones of the grape. sounds of compound organ pipes. 69- M. A. Bed. 1776. On the strength of men In Piemont, walnut oil is used for lamps. On the employed in labour. 70. On imperfect fluids. eastern and south coasts of the Mediterranean, and 71. M. A. Bed. 1777. On the elasticity of the in China, the inferior kind of oil of sesamum. In tropical countries, cocoa-nut oil, which, in the temair. 72. M. A. Bed. 1779* Two Memoirs on the ine- perature of heat of Britain, is solid and white like tallow. It is burnt in lamps made of the shell of qualities of Jupiter and Saturn. 73. Pyrometrie, 4. Berl. 1779: A posthumous the cocoa-nut, and of bamboo. Much of the oil used work, upon a subject which had long occupied the in China is obtained by expression from the seeds of author’s attention: with a Preface by Karsten, and the tree called by botanists Camellia oleifera, which is extensively cultivated for that purpose; as is the a Biographical Memoir by Eberhard. 74. A paper on Annuities. Leipz. Magaz. 1780. shrub called Croton sebiferum, for the solid oil or 75. Deutscher Gelehrter Briefvoechsel. 5 v. 8. Berl. tallow that the Chinese press from its fruit. Essen1781-7. Published by John Bernoulli; consisting tial oils, extracted from plants by distillation, are too principally of the author’s correspondence with Hol- volatile, and, in consequence of their volatility, are land, Kant, Karsten, Segner, Basedow, Scheibel, too easily inflamed. and Brander. The contents are more fully describPetroleum and naptha issue from the earth in ed by Lalande. Bibl. Astr. p. 584. several places, and these sources are generally in secondary strata, and originate from fossil vegetable 76. M. A. Berl. 1783. On friction. 77* Logische und Philosophische Abhandlungen. matter, in a state approaching to that of pit-coal. A 2 v. 8. Berl. 1787- Edited by J. Bernoulli. source of petroleum existed some years ago near 78. On the theory of parallel lines. Hinderb. Arch, Colbrook Dale, and at St Catherine’s near Edinder Math. I. burgh. The greatest natural deposits of petroleum (Bernoulli in Nouvelles Litteraires. 8. Berl. 1777- and bitumen are in the Island of Trinidad, and in Eberhard in Pyrometrie Briefivechsel, III. Phil. Mag. the Dead Sea in Judea. Naptha is the most liquid May 1804. Aikin’s General Biography. VI. 4. Lond. of the oils proceeding from fossil vegetable matter, 1807. Servois in Biographic JJniverselle, XXIII. 8. and possesses qualities very fit for burning in lamps. It is employed for this purpose at Genoa, where the Par. 1819.) (a.l.) LAMP, is a name applied to various contrivances streets are lighted with naptha from Amiano in the for furnishing artificial light. We shall, in addition adjacent territory. Naptha, obtained in the state to what is said under this head in the Encyclo- of a clear colourless liquid, by distillation from pitpaedia, offer some remarks on the various kinds of coal, has of late been employed for burning, in street Lamps for ordinary purposes, on Lamps for Light- lamps, in London. Alcohol or spirit of wine, being more clean than Houses, on Lamps for Streets, and on the Safety oil, is convenient for feeding a lamp that serves to Lamp. Lamps are usually fed by expressed oils from ve- heat a liquid in a small vessel; but the flame is blue, Substances getable or animal substances. In Britain, whale oil, and therefore is not suitable for giving light. In a spirit lamp, the surface of the spirit must be burnfn' boiled from the subcuticular fat of the whale, is covered to exclude the air, for the spirit would catch used for common lamps. Tallow is one of the most common substances fire if its surface were exposed. Sulfuric ether is too easily inflamed, and too costemployed for giving light. The spermaceti, which is found near the nervous substance of the spinal ly to be used for feeding lamps. In a lamp, for the purpose of giving light withoutThe Wick‘ marrow in a particular kind of whale, is also used. There is a substance resembling spermaceti, form- a considerable quantity of heat, it is required that ed by the decomposition of the muscidar flesh of only a small portion of the oil shall be inflamed at animals in moist places, which has been employed. once; therefore, by means of the wick, a small portion Bees-wax, a vegetable substance collected by the of oil, minutely divided so as to expose a large surbee, and which, in some of its qualities, resembles face, is subjected to the action of the heat; the heat the essential oils, is one of the best materials for decomposes the oil, and the gas resulting from the decomposition is burnt by the atmospheric air which giving light. I n no region of the globe are human beings found surrounds the wick. In the gas lights, which,

208 Lamps,

LAMPS. within the last few years, have come into use in which the pressure of the atmosphere is excluded, many manufactories and cities in Britain, the opera- and therefore the column is sustained by the weight1 Lamps tions of producing the gas and inflaming it, which of the atmosphere pressing on its base, on the same take place at one time in the wick of a lamp, principle as a bird-cage fountain. are performed separately. The gas is obtained from Oil is introduced into the reservoir A, by taking pit-coal, oil, or wood, but best from pit-coal or from it off, and holding it with the neck uppermost. The oil, by heating these substances strongly in a retort; sliding tube Q is pushed so as to uncover the hole t, and when extricated, is conveyed aAvay in pipes to and the oil is poured in by the hole t; when this is the place where it is to be inflamed. The capillary done, the hole is again covered by the sliding tube, attraction of the filaments of the cotton which com- and the reservoir A is replaced in F. When the lamp pose the wick, raises up a small portion of oil into is to be lighted, the hole t is opened by depressing a situation where it may be exposed to the degree the sliding tube by its handle z, and the oil will of heat necessary for producing flame. flow out of A till it rise in F, and in the annular caIn lamps of the most common structure, the wrick vity that contains the wick to the level of the top of should not be elevated too high above the surface of the hole t. When the oil in F is lowered by the the oil, for, in that case, the capillary action by burning of the lamp, so that the surface of the oil which the oil rises between the filaments of the cot- in F is below' the upper part of the hole; then a ton will not be able to raise it to so great a height. bubble of air ascends into A, and a quantity of oil If the wick is too little elevated above the surface descends into F, till the surface of the oil rises again of the oil, there will not be a sufficient quantity of to cover the upper part of the hole. It sometimes the oil converted into the gas, whose combustion happens that the air in A is heated by the w armth constitutes the flame, and the flame will be too of the room, and then too great a quantity of oil small. descends into F, in consequence of the expansion of Many lamps used by the Greeks and Romans, the hot air in the upper part of A, so that the oil, have been found in the ruins of ancient towns. These not being all consumed in the wick, falls down ancient lamps are of pottery, painted and sculp- through the tube g, and may even run over from tured with various ornaments, and of bronze. The the cup P. This is a considerable inconvenience atsurface of the oil in the reservoir is nearly on a tending oil reservoirs of the construction here menlevel with the lighted part of the wick, which emer- tioned. The hole t is closed by drawing up the slidges from a projecting beak at the side of the reser- ing tube Q, when the lamp is not burning, in order voir. that the lamp may be inclined, without making the Varieties in The lamp commonly used in rooms at Florence oil descend from the reservoir. the Struc- consists of a round reservoir, with four beaks proThe cylindrical part, where the flame is produced, ture of jecting from four opposite points of its circumfer- is composed of three tubes, d, f, g. The tube g is Lamps. ence : through the middle of the reservoir a vertical soldered to the bottom of the tube d, just above o, stalk passes; and on this stalk the lamp may be and the interval between the outer surface of the raised or slid down. The stalk is fixed in a foot tube g and the inner surface of the tube d, is an anthat rests on the table. The whole is made of nular cylindrical cavity closed at bottom, containing brass. the cylindrical cotton wick immersed in oil. The A lamp, which affords a faint light, is made of a wick is fixed to the wick tube, which is capable waxed wick, an inch long, passed through the centre of being moved spirally; within the annular caof a thin round piece of cork, and of a piece of card vity is also the tube f, which is capable of beingplaced above the cork. Some oil is placed on the moved round, and serves to elevate and depress surface of water in a glass tumbler, and the cork, the wick. P is a cup that screws on the bottom with its wick, is laid upon the surface of the oil. of the tube d, and serves to receive the superThis lamp, called a veilleme, is commonly used in fluous oil that drops down from the wick along Paris for burning in bedrooms during the night, as the inner surface of the tube g. The air enters rush lights are in London. through the holes o o, and passes up through the The lamp with a hollow cylindrical wick, which tube g to maintain the combustion in the intereceives a current of air, both on the outside and the rior of the circular flame. The air which goes to inside of the cylinder, is called, in England, an Ar- perform the combustion on the exterior part of the gand lamp, from the name of one of the first makers. wick enters through the holes m, with which r n is The principle of this lamp is described in the Ency- perforated. When the air in the chimney is rarified clopaedia. The wick in Argand's lamp, as first con- by the heat of the flame, the column of the atmostructed, was raised by a rack and pinion; but the sphere, of which the chimney is the base, becomes method now employed to raise the wick consists in a lighter than the surrounding columns ; and the surspiral notch, which goes round outside of the inte- rounding columns, pressing with their excess of rior tube. The inside of the ring to which the wick weight, enter the lower part of the chimney, and is attached has a tooth which fits into this notch. pass upward, with a rapid current, to restore the At fig. 2, Plate XCIV., is a representation of the equilibrium between the adjacent columns of the atmost usual form of the Argand lamp. A is a reser- mosphere. voir, which is air tight at top, and has the neck imIn some lamps, above the orifice of the tube g, mersed in oil, so that oil flows out of it only when the and nearly at the height of the top of the flame, external air is admitted to ascend through the neck : there is placed a circular plate of metal, of the same it contains a short column of liquid, from the top of diameter as the tube: this has the effect of turning the 10

LAMPS. 209 Lamps, current of air into that part of the flame where smoke per end of a stalk, so that very little of the sphere Lamps, would otherwise be produced. The same effect is of rays, proceeding from the lighted wick, may be obtained by the contraction of the cylindrical glass intercepted by the opaque part of the lamp. The folchimney at R G: the contraction of the chimney lowing are some of these methods: A lamp, called the Amiens lamp, commonly used was commonly employed in Paris before it was used in Paris by the poorer classes, is in the form of a in England. The oil flows from the reservoir A and F through candle. The lighted part of the wick is at top; the N, and occupies the cavity between the exterior sur- lower part of this cylinder, which is of tin, has a face of the tube g, and the inner surface of the tube valve opening upwards, and is moveable up and d. The oil rises in the annular cylindrical cavity down in another cylinder, which has a valve openbetween these two tubes to the level of the opening ing upwards. This valve is plunged in the reservoir t. The part ?v i is a short tube, which receives the of oil; when the wick is in want of oil, the oil is circular wick, and slides freely on the tube g. The pumped up by moving vertically the tin cylinder tube g has a hollow spiral groove on its exterior sur- which contains the wick. Lamps of this kind are face, into which enters a pin k, connected with the described in the Transactions of the Academy of wick-tubes w i. The wick-tube has a catch, which Sciences for 1755, p. 139; and for 1760, p. 158. A lamp for reading is made by Carcel of Paris, in works in a perpendicular slit in the tube f; and, by turning the tube f, the wick-tube will be raised or which the oil is raised to the wick by means of a lowered ; r n fits on the tube d ; r n is fitted to re- pump. The pump is moved by watch-work, comceive the glass chimney R G; one of which is seen posed of wheel and pinion, and a spring, which is at .? ,• a wire s is attached to the tube f, and is bent wound up when the lamp is to be lighted. In the XXth Vol. of the Philosophical Transactions, over the edge of the tube d, and descends along the outside of the tube d. The part n r, that supports St Clair, in a letter to Hooke, describes a lamp, in the glass chimney, is connected, by four other wires, which the oil floats on water. A tube passes from with the ring y, which surrounds the tube d, and the upper part of the vessel down to the water; and is capable of being moved round. When n r is turn- through this tube water is dropped, by means of ed round, it carries round along with it the ring y, which the surface of the oil is always maintained at the wire s, and the tube /, and thereby operates the the same level, whilst it is consumed by the flame in the wick. elevation and depression of the wick. In the lamp constructed by Mr Kier of KentThe glass chimney which rests on R N is wider at bottom, and then is contracted at R G, for the ish Town, the oil is raised to the wick, and suspurpose of making the air rush upon the external tained by a column of a solution of salt in water. This liquid, being of a greater specific gravity, a part of the circular flame in a denser current. In the most simple construction of lamps, the sur- column of it counterbalances a longer column of face of oil in the oil reservoir is nearly on a level oil. The solution of salt is made of such a speciwith the flame, because the capillary attraction of the fic gravity, that it will support a column of oil wick can only raise the oil a little above the surface four-thirds of its own height. This is nearly the of the reservoir. The surface of the reservoir also specific gravity of the heaviest saline solution that is is considerable, that the lamp may burn for a suffi- known to exist in any great body of natural water, cient length of time, before it has consumed so much namely, in the Dead Sea; the weight of the waoil as to reduce the level of the oil below the reach ters of this sea, of distilled water, and of oil, being of the action of the capillary attraction of the wick. in the relative proportions of 120, 100, 92. To have Mechanists have contrived and executed lamps of an idea of this lamp, imagine a syphon w ith two upvarious forms, with the view of removing the in- right branches, and the junction of the branches at at top. convenience of the shadow of the reservoir, which the bottom. The shortest branch has a bulb is inherent in the common lamp with one lateral The longest branch has a bulb near its lowrer extremity. The shortest branch is filled with a solution beak. One of the contrivances for diminishing the bulk of salt, whose upper surface is in the superior bulb. of the part in which the wick is immersed, and for The longer branch contains the oil, and in its upper obtaining a supply of oil, is the bird-cage fountain extremity the wick is placed. In the low er bulb the reservoir described above, as being usually applied surface of the oil rests upon the surface of the soluto argand lamps. This kind of reservoir is de- tion of salt. The bulbs serve as reservoirs, prolonging the acscribed by Cardan, and a lamp fed by it is mentioned by several writers under the name of Car- tion of the machine; by means of the bulbs and the greater specific gravity of the solution, it is efdan’s lamp. Baptista Porta, in treating of oil reservoirs of fected, that the abstraction of a considerable quanthe kind just now mentioned, proposes that, for tity of oil by the combustion in the wick occasions large lamps with many wicks, the reservoir should but a small depression in the upper surface of the be placed above and without the room, and should solution; the height of the sustaining column of communicate with the lamp within by a pipe. In solution will become shorter in proportion as the this way, the oil would not be liable to be pressed column of oil which it counterbalances is consumed; out too rapidly by the expansion of the air in the re- but this diminution of the height of the column of servoir, occasioned by the heat of the room ; and se- oil will be slow', and therefore the column of oil will . veral methods have been contrived for the purpose for a considerable time be of sufficient length to ©f placing the luminous part of the wick on the up- reach the wick. Suppose an inverted syphon, ot

210 Lamps.

LAMPS. equal diameter throughout^ the shorter leg of which face of the mercury within the lower part of the contains a column of solution of salt, whose height flask will rise by a much shorter column. is 75, and this counterbalances a column of oil, In the lamp invented by Mr Barton, Comptroller whose height is 100, in the longer leg ; if now the of his Majesty’s Mint, a solution of salt in water is column of oil in the longer leg be diminished in used as a counterpoise to the oil. The combination height by 10, the counterbalancing column of solu- consists of a light flask, open at the bottom, floattion will diminish to 67-5, being 7-5 shorter than at ing in a solution of salt, so that, when oil is poured first. But if the syphon, instead of being of equal into the flask, the surface of the oil in the neck of diameter, has two dilatations or reservoirs, whose the flask stands at a higher level than the surface of horizontal section is ten times the area of the tube the saline solution in which the flask swims. The of the syphon, one of the reservoirs being placed at wick is at the upper end of the neck of the flask, the top of the short branch, so as to contain the up- and as the area of the horizontal section of the bulb per surface of the solution of salt, and the other at or lower part of the flask is much greater, suppose the bottom of the long branch, so as to contain the 20 times greater, than the area of the section of the surface where the oil rests upon the solution, then, neck of the flask, it will happen, that when a column if the same quantity of oil, as in the former example, of oil an inch high is abstracted from the neck of is taken from the top of the longer leg of the syphon, the flask, the height of the rise of the surface of the the column of oil will only fall one-tenth of what solution in the bulb or lower part of the flask will it did in the undilated syphon of equal diameter, be only ^th of an inch. This lamp is represented and the solution of salt will diminish one-tenth of at fig. 3, Plate XCIV. what it did in the syphon of equal diameter. T is the oil reservoir, from which the oil passes The oil reservoir and the wick remain stationary, upwards to the wicks w, tv, tv. The oil reservoir is and do not descend as the oil is consumed. This open at bottom, at h. This is preferable to the mode descent takes place in two lamps now to be men- of making the reservoir with a perforated bottom, tioned, because in these two lamps the oil reservoir that screws off, for the purpose of cleaning the reswims in liquid that acts as a counterpoise. servoir. The fluid B, in which the oil reservoir is In the lamp contrived by the Chevalier Edel- immersed, is a solution of salt in water. This likrantz of Stockholm, the oil reservoir floats in mer- quid is contained in a vessel RMO, which can be cury, and the column of oil is maintained at the re- unscrewed at O, for the purpose of taking out the quisite height by the counterpoise of a column of oil vessel. N and Y are two floats fixed to the oil mercury; in proportion as the oil is consumed, the reservoir and its tube. The column of the solution oil reservoir and the wick which is connected with of salt c, h, presses against the oil at the open botit sink. tom of the reservoir, and maintains a column of oil The general structure of this lamp may be un- in the tube to the height e ; to this point e the wick derstood by conceiving a flask, with a long narrow descends, and raises the oil to the flame by the caneck, and enlarged at the under part. The flask is pillary attraction of its fibres. The specific graviheavy enough to swim, when it is placed in mer- ties of the oil and the solution of salt must be incury, with part of its under part immersed. The versely as the heights c, h, and h, e; that is, the bottom of the flask is open. The flask being placed specific gravity of the solution of salt must be made in mercury, is made to float with its neck perpendi- to bear to the specific gravity of the oil the same cular. Oil is poured in at the neck till the flask is proportion that the perpendicular height c, h, bears full. Then the surface of the mercury at the bot- to the perpendicular height c, h. As the oil is contom of the flask and within the flask will be de- sumed, the water enters the hole at the bottom of pressed by the weight of the column of oil that the oil vessel; the surface of the water at c sinks,, rests upon it; and the surface of the mercury on and the oil reservoir, with the tube and wicks atthe outside of the bulb or lower part of the flask tached to it, sink also. The upper part of the veswill stand higher than the surface of the mercury sel R should be of a capacity a little less than the within the flask. The height which measures the capacity of the oil reservoir, so that, when the water difference of level of the two surfaces of mercury, has displaced the oil, and filled the oil reservoir, the will be the height of a column of mercury of equal float Y may be at the bottom of the enlarged part weight wTith the column of oil that is in the flask; of the water vessel R. To prepare the lamp, the and as mercury is about 14T55 times the weight of oil, exterior vessel is filled with solution of salt by the the difference of level of the two surfaces of mercury opening at l; the solution passes into the oil vessel will be of the height of the oil in the flask. In by the open bottom h, and the oil vessel rests on the proportion as oil is abstracted from the upper end bottom of the exterior vessel. The oil is then pourof the tube by the combustion in the wick, the ed in through the tube e. The oil passes into the height of the column of oil is thereby diminished, oil reservoir, expels the water, and floats the oil reand the two surfaces of mercury will come nearer servoir, raising the surface of the water in R. to each other, the flask sinking a little in the merAn inconvenience affecting Barton’s lamp is, that cury. As the area of the horizontal section of the the solution of salt, by the gradual evaporation of lower part of the flask is much greater than the the watery part, becomes more dense, and capable area of the section of the neck, and as the specific of supporting a higher column of oil than it did at gravities of mercury and oil are very different, it first. The lamp of Edelkrantz, which floats on merfollows, that, to restore the equilibrium after the ab- cury, is not liable to this inconvenience, because the straction of a column of oil from the neck, the sur- mercury does not alter in density by evaporation.,

Lamps.

Lamps.

,

LAMPS. 211 Both these floating lamps have the inconvenience, hole may also be placed in some other part of the Lamps tor that the oil is made to run over at the wick by any ring, and not in the stopper. The ring supports oust accidental shock which depresses the floating part of an hemispherical shade of roughened glass, or ol\ gauze. These glass shades are made rough, not by ' the lamp. Several lamps have been constructed in which the grinding, but by laying a coat of powdered glass on oil is raised by the principle of the fountain of Hero, the smooth surface of the shade, and then exposing of Alexandria, which is known as being employed to it to the heat of a furnace, so that the powdered glass raise water in the mines of Chemnitz, in Hungary. becomes adherent, and produces a rough or frosted In Hero’s writings, the application of this machine to Surface. This method of frosting glass is practised raise oil to a lamp is described. Lamps of this con- in some glass-houses situated in that district of Stafstruction were made some years ago in Paris by Gi- fordshire called the Potteries. Lamps of this conrard de Marselle. Of this kind is the hydropneumatic struction may be suspended from the ceiling, or lamp made by King, tin and japan manufacturer, of placed on a stand, and are now frequently used in Snowhill, London. This lamp is formed external- rooms and shops in London and Paris. They are ly like a column, 18 inches high, and 4< inches in called in London French lamps. Hooke, in his treatise entitled Lampas, published diameter; it is made to contain oil enough to last for five or six hours. An idea of its general prin- in 1677, describes eight contrivances for supplying ciple may be formed by means of the diagram oil to a lamp equably, and as long as there remains at fig. 5, Plate XCIV. in which there is a descending any oil in the reservoir. This he effects by different tube, with a bulb, at A, at top. The upper part of methods of counterbalancing the oil. These inventhis bulb is open. The tube, at its lower part, is tions display Hooke’s ingenuity and great knowledge curved upwards, and dilated into a second bulb, B. of mechanics, but require nice workmanship, and The tube contains oil, the upper surface of which are not applicable to practical purposes. These is in the upper bulb A, and its other surface is in counterpoises of Hooke also serve to form a vessel the lower bulb B. From the top of the lower bulb so that the whole liquid may be drawn from it in B, a tube proceeds to the top of another bulb, C, an equable stream, by tapping the vessel at the top, placed higher than the upper bulb A, of the first and to make the descent of the surface of a liquid tube. This third bulb, C, contains oil, and from the and its discharge constant and equable, in a clepsybottom of this third bulb the oil rises in a tube. At dra for showing the hour. Porter’s automaton lamp, constructed in London the upper end, W, of this tube, the wick is placed. The whole machine is closed, and air-tight, except in 1784, is something similar to some of Hooke’s at the openings of A and W, and at these openings contrivances for producing an equable supply of the pressure of the atmosphere acts. Thus the co- oil to the wick, as long as there remains any oil lumn of oil contained in the first tube and bulbs A, in the reservoir. It does not require such deliB, presses, with its own weight, and the weight of cacy of execution as his counterpoised lamps. Porthe atmosphere, on the confined air contained be- ter’s lamp is a tin box, the vertical and longitutween the second bulb, B, and the third bulb, C, dinal section of which is a rectangular paralleloelongated horizontally, of which call AB the and raises up a column of oil from that third bulb. gram, r The top of this column, so raised, is at a higher level tw o upper angles, CD the two lower. This pathan the top of the oil in the first tube, because the rallelopipedal box is suspended on an axis near the bottom of the column, which is raised, is at a high- upper surface of the box, at a place which may be er level than the bottom of the column in the first denoted by X. The axis is nearer A than B ; at A tube. The whole machine is a syphon, in which a is the wick, and a tube going down to the bottom of first column of oil, of the perpendicular height AB, the box, along the side of the box AC. When the supports a second column of oil, CW, not of a great- box is full of oil, then the space XB, behind the er height than the first column, but, by means of axis, being full of oil, counterpoises the shorter the column of air, BC, interposed between the two space XA. AB, the long side of the box, is horicolumns of oil, it is effected that the extremity, W, zontal ; and the line drawn from the axis of suspenof the second column of oil, is much higher than the sion down to the centre of gravity is perpendicular upper surface. A, of the first column of oil. In the to AB. But, when the surface of the oil falls below lamp constructed on this principle by King there is the axis, then the box turns on its axis, the side A a plug and valve, which serve for introducing the falls, and B is elevated; A being heavier, by reason oil, and other particular contrivances. When the of the wick and wick tube, and the side AC assumes a lower position, in proportion as the oil is consumed ; oil is to be poured in, the lamp is inverted. A lamp, of which the reservoir for the oil is in the the line drawn from the axis down to the centre of form of a hollow ring, was contrived by Count gravity becoming more and more oblique to AB. Rumford, and is described by him in Nicholson s The operation of this lamp depends upon the posiJournal, Vol. XIV. 1806, p. 23. The lamp is in tion of the axis X, and the weight of the wickthe centre of the ring, with which it communi- tube, which must be accurately proportioned, the cates by three straight tubes, in the direction of ra- one to the other, by trial. dii of the ring. The stoppers which close the aperLamps for Light-houses. tures by which the oil is poured into the ring have a small hole, which allows the atmosphere to press Light-houses are now generally lighted with Aron the surface of the oil in the ring, and thereby gand lamps, which have hollow cylindrical wicks permits it to flow freely to the wick. This small placed before reflecting mirrors. Several ol these ee VOL. v. PART II.

312 LAMPS. Lamps tor lamps are fixed on a frame., and protected from the nearly cylindrical; in others, the lantern is not so Camps for Lightmg houses weather by glass windows. The lamps of light- deep as the lanterns of the old form. The new Streets. ^ ^ j houses are fed with oil, and in some places with pit lamps have reflectors placed above the light, for the^ coal gas, as in a light-house near Trieste, after- purpose of reflecting the light downwards on the wards mentioned. foot pavement. These reflectors are of various forms, In many of the light-houses on the British coast, in some of the lamps, the four plane surfaces of the the frame on which the lamps are fixed is made to inside ot the pyramidal cover of the lantern are revolve by means of clock-work, so that to a specta- made bright, and serve to reflect the light downtor, situated in the circle of which the light-house is wards. In other lamps the ceiling of the lantern is the centre, the light appears at its brightest at the a reflector in form, having a small portion of a large end of a stated period of time, which is generally curved surface with a chimney in the middle to give one or two minutes. The revolving of the light issue to the smoke. Others have two, and sometimes enables seamen to distinguish the light-house from three, concave conoidal reflectors, whose vertices meet the light of lime-kilns or other fires upon the coast. over the light, the axes of two of the reflectors being This distinction is of great importance, for ship- parallel to the direction of the street: at the point wrecks have happened in consequence of mistak- where the reflectors meet there is a chimney through ing the light of lime-kilns for the light of a light- which the smoke ascends. The reflectors require to house. The light is, in some light-houses, made of be frequently wiped in order to keep them bright. a red tinge to distinguish it from some other lightThe oil vessels of the new lamps in London are house not far distant. The red colour of the light of various forms ; the beak, or part of the oil vessel is produced by placing windows of red glass before under the wick, is made as narrow as possible, for as the lamps. Red is the only colour that can be given it is very near the flame, its shadow thrown on the to the light in this way. When stained glass of other street by the rays diverging from the flame is sevecolours is placed before the lamp, it is not found to ral feet in breadth. If the beak be an inch broad, produce a change in the colour of light seen at a dis- and situate an inch under the flame, the shadow tance ; the blue or green colour of the glass becomes of the beak on the pavement, under the lamp, will insensible when seen through a great body of air be ten feet broad, if the flame is situate ten feet awhich has itself a blue colour. bove the pavement. In some of the new lamps, the reflector placed above the light is made with its conLamps for Lighting Streets. cavity so disposed at the edges, that the reflected Till within the last six years, the street lamps, light is thrown upon that part of the pavement used in London and in other parts of Britain, con- which is under the oil holder. In Major Cochrane’s sisted almost uniformly of a deep inverted bell- lamps, the oil vessel consists of a bird-cage fountain shaped glass lantern blown of one piece, and sus- reservoir, which allows a supply of oil to come pended by the edge in an iron ring; with a tin down to the wick, when the surface of the oil in conical cover perforated to give issue to the smoke, which the wick is placed has sunk to a certain and within the lantern, a flat oil vessel with two point. The wick is double, consisting of two pieces or more wick holders or beaks, projecting from of flat cotton web; between the wicks is a slit its circumference. Many districts of London are through which a current of air ascends to the flame, lighted with lamps of this form; other districts em- and on the outside of each wick is another slit; these ploy several kinds of street lamps of a different form. slits admit currents to the exterior surface of the The first of these new kinds were made under the di- wicks. Each time that the lamp is trimmed two rection of Lord Cochrane, and employed to light the pieces of wick are inserted, just sufficiently long to streets in the parish of Saint Anne, Soho, London. last the time that the lamp is required to burn. The lanterns which serve to protect the light from Naptha distilled from pit coal is burnt in these wind and weather in the new lamps in one district lamps, and the light is brilliant like the light of coal of London, are composed of four lateral panes and a gas. But the gas lights have the advantage of being bottom of glass, joined together by sheet iron, so unincumbered by the opaque substance of the oil that the lantern is in form of a truncated pyramid, vessel, which intercepts light, and casts a shadow on inverted like the lanterns of the street lamps in the street. Paris. In lanterns of this form some light is interThe street lamps in London are fixed at the end cepted, and a shadow is thrown on the street by the of iron rods which project from the walls of the metal that unites the panes. This defect does not houses. The lamp is, over the middle of the foot occur in the lanterns of street lamps most common- pavement, ten feet from the ground. There is a row ‘■Y used in England, and made of one piece of glass of lamps on each side of the street, the principal blown into the form of a spheroid. The spheroidal street being fifty feet in width. In Paris, where lanterns deflect the light more, because they are many of the principal thoroughfare streets are not more unequal in thickness, but this is a smaller in- above twenty-five feet in breadth, the lamps are susconvenience: the lanterns blown of one piece of pended over the middle of the street. A strong rope glass are more easily cleaned. Many of the lanterns is made fast to the walls on each side of the street, for gas lights are also made of panes in the above and to this rope a smaller rope with the lamp is atmentioned form; some are cylindroids blown of one tached. The smaller rope passes over pullies, and piece with a hole in the bottom to admit air. In comes down into an iron box, where it is fixed on a some of the new lamps, in London, which have lan- hook. The iron box is unlocked, and the lamp is terns of one piece of glass, the form of the lantern is let down and lighted with a candle. The light is

LAMPS. 213 Lamps for placed before a silver-plated reflector. In Vienna getable substances, and the fire damp of coal mines Safety Lighting street lamps are fixed on the upper end of a may be considered as the produce of the putrefacStTeets ^ post. The lamp is taken out of the lantern by tion which the vegetable matter has undergone, or of some decomposition that the coal is still underSafety means of a pole, and lighted at the foot of the post. Lamp. This saves the inconvenience which results to pas- going. Sir Humphry Davy found that, on breaking sengers from the mode of lighting lamps, by a man, some masses of coal under water, inflammable gas was with a ladder and torch, as practised in Britain. given out. In some places blowers of fire damp In most of the towns of Italy the streets are but issue out at the surface of the earth. A quarter of a sparingly lighted. The lamps are fixed at the end mile from Pietra Mala in the Apennines, on the road of iron rods which project from the walls of the from Bologna to Florence, there is a blower of inhouses. In some of them the light is placed in the flammable gas issuing from the ground, and profocus of a parabolic reflector, or at the meeting of ceeding from strata of schistus, and perhaps of coal; the vertices of two concave conoidal divergent re- Sir H. Davy analysed this gas, and found it to be flectors situated above the light. The French, when carburetted hydrogen, like the fire damp of the coal masters of Italy, made regulations to improve the mines. Another blower of the same kind exists on the side of a mountain near the shore of the Gulf of lighting of the streets. In England whale oil is vised as the combustible ma- Adalia, in Lycia, on the south coast of Asia Minor. terial in the streetlamps j of late naptha, obtained from In mines wrought to obtain metals and salt, where the distillation of pit coal, has been used in a district there are no strata of vegetable matter like coal, it of London which is lighted with Major Cochrane’s does not appear that the fire damp occurs. The merit of that very ingenious and most useful lamps. This naptha is a clear and colourless liquid, and is found to give a good light; it requires to be contrivance the Safety Lamj) is wholly due to Sir prepared with particular attention; that made at Humphry Davy. After having made many experithe gas light work is said to be too easily inflamma- ments for the purpose of forming a lamp to give light ble. In Paris rape seed oil, and poppy seed oil, are in coal mines affectedwith fire damp, without occasionused: these expressed oils are made in the north-east- ing explosions which frequently prove fatal to the ern part of France and in Flanders. In the south ot miners, he found that wire gauze, of which the aperEurope olive oil of inferior quality and walnut oil tures occupy more space than the cooling or radiating are used. Street lamps lighted with the gas distil- surface of the wire, so as to be permeable to air and led from pit coal are now (1821) employed in the light, offered a perfect barrier against explosion; beprincipal streets of London, Edinburgh, Glasgow, cause, although the gas was inflamed within the incicLiverpool, Manchester, Birmingham, Sheffield, and sures formed by the wire gauze, yet the heat being other cities in Britain. The use of coal gas for giv- communicated to the numerous surfaces of the wire, ing light had made very little progress in France in the gas on the outside of the wire inclosure was not 1818, being scarcely employed even in Paris, and we inflamed. Wire gauze is the best material for believe not at all at Lyons, although pit coal is a- safety lamps, as it affords the greatest extent of bundant and commonly used as fuel there. In 1818, radiating surface, and by cooling, prevents all expit coal gas was used for lighting a light-house on plosions that require a temperature higher than the the Adriatic in the dominions of the House of Aus- temperature of the atmosphere. An example of the tria near Trieste ; the gas being obtained from the radiating and cooling action of wire is seen in the fire guards of wire, which are hung upon the ribs of coal wrought in the adjacent country. fire places in rooms to prevent sparks from being Safety Lamp. thrown into the room. These fire guards, although This lamp was constructed for the purpose of they are very near the fire, do not become hot. The giving light in mines where fire damp prevails. apertures of the wire gauze must be smaller, In many of the collieries of Britain, Flanders, and the wire, which is the radiating and cooling and other countries, fire damp, consisting of carbu- surface, must be in greater quantity ; in proportion retted hydrogen, issues from different parts of the as the gas in which the lamp is to be used is more strata of coal when the coal is worked; and when inflammable. The fire damp in coal-mines is in althe fire damp is mixed with a certain proportion most all cases carburetted hydrogen; and for exof atmospheric air, it explodes by the flame of the cluding explosion from a lamp in that gas, it is miner’s candle, burning the workmen severely, and found that the wire gauze should contain 784- aperoften depriving them of life. Vegetable substances, tures in a square inch. The wire gauze should be ot iron or copper. in the slow decomposition which takes place in them, in the process of putrefaction, give out inflammable Fine brass wire is improper, because it is too easily gas. This is seen when the leaves of plants fall into combustible by reason of the zinc it contains. 1 he water and become putrid, inflammable gas then rises iron wire should not be tinned, tin being too easily to the surface in bubbles, and is inflamed if a light combustible. The body of the lamp should be of be applied to the surface of the water. Vegetable copper riveted together, or of massy cast-brass or matter gives out inflammable gas also in the rapid cast-iron. The screws should fit tight ; no aperture, decomposition occasioned by fire. The flame of ve- however small, should be suffered to exist in the getable substances consists of the inflammable air body of the lamp and the trimming wire should resulting from their decomposition, and burning move through a long tight tube. The safety lamp is represented in Plate XCI\. with the addition of the air of the atmosphere. Pit fig, 4-. A is the cistern containing the oil; B the coal consists of the remains of large quantities of ve-

214 Safety ,

LAMPS. brass vim to which the bottom of the wire gauze the same size, when six inches of it were red hot, and Safety cylinder is fastened by a screw to prevent it from when it was held perpendicularly in a bottle con- Lamp. being separated from the lamp ; C is the safe feeder taining an explosive mixture, so that successive por- s'—V— through which oil is poured into the lamp; E the tions of the gas were heated by the wire, produced safe trimmer, a wire which passes through a safe an explosion. tube, for the purpose of raising and trimming the The action of the safety lamp may be exhibited in wick; F the wire gauze cylinder. The longitu- the chemist’s laboratory, by pouring some ether into dinal suture where the two edges of the piece of the bottom of a large jar; the vapour of the ether wire gauze that forms the cylinder meet, must be mixing with the air, produces an explosive atmowell doubled and fastened with wire. If the cylin- sphere. When the safety lamp is lighted and placed der is of twilled wire gauze, the wire should be of in the jar, the explosive mixture from the ether will iron or copper, at least ot the thickness of ^ of burn within the wire gauze lamp, without inflaming an inch; if of plain wire gauze, the diameter the gas that is without it. should not be less than ^ of an inch. The number The workman who has only a single gauze lamp, of apertures in a square inch should not be less than and finds the temperature of the wire increasing 784. The wire gauze cylinder F is closed at top rapidly by the fire damp from a blower, can easily by a circular piece of wire gauze, and above this diminish the heat by standing between the current is placed a second top, G, which fits on the cy- and the lamp, that is to say, to the windward of the linder like a cap. In the figure the circular wire lamp, or by sheltering the lamp from the current by gauze top of the wire gauze cylinder is seen at G interposing his clothes; or, by bringing the lamp through the wire gauze of the cap. The circular nearer the orifice from which the fire damp issues, top of this wire gauze cap is f of an inch above the he may extinguish it. There never can be any occatop of the wire gauze cylinder F. II are thick sion for the workmen to place the lamp in the exact wires surrounding the wire gauze cylinder, to pre- place, when two currents, one of common atmospheserve it from being bent by external force. K is a ric air, and the other of fire damp, meet each other, ring to hang up the lamp, or to hold it by. The When the fire damp is inflamed in the wire gauze most convenient size for the safety lamp is a span, lamp, coal-dust thrown into the gauze cylinder that is, from 8 to 10 inches high, the wire gauze cy- burns with strong flashes, but the explosion is not linder being 2 to 21 inches in diameter. communicated to the external fire damp by this The wire gauze, when choaked with coal-dust, re- means, quires to be cleaned by means of a brush, in order Phosphorus, sulphur, pyrites, or gunpowder, would to transmit the light. produce explosion, by being applied to the outside In figure 4, a lens of glass, L, is placed before the of the wire gauze cylinder ; and sulphur, to produce light, sometimes a piece of tin is placed within the this effect, must be applied in large quantities, and cylinder to act as a reflector. blown upon by a current of atmospheric air. But The light of the safety lamp, without a reflector, there is little danger of these substances being acciwas found to be nearly equal to the light of a com- dentally applied to the safety lamp in mines, mon miner s candle. When a wire gauze lamp is made to burn in a Flame produced by the combustion of explosive very explosive atmosphere at rest, the heat of the gases may be extinguished by colder metal. The wire gauze, when the fire damp is burning within temperature of metal, even when heated to a white the lamp, soon arrives at its maximum, and then diheat, is less than the temperature of flame, and minishes. The coally matter also, from the decomtherefore red hot wire gauze in sufficient quantity, position of the oil, choaks the upper apertures of the and of the proper degree of fineness, will abstract suf- wire gauze, and thus gradually diminishes the heat, ficient heat from the flame of carburetted hydrogen by diminishing the quantity of gas consumed. Wire or fire damp to extinguish that flame. gauze lamps which had been used by workmen for Flame, in all cases, is considered to be the com- several months, and which had been often red hot bustion of an explosive mixture of inflammable gas in explosive atmospheres, were nevertheless still unand air. If a piece of wire gauze is held over the impaired and perfect. Hame of a lamp, it prevents the flame from passing. Where the lamp is placed in a current of exploThe air that passes through is very hot, and is in sive gas a greater heat is produced, and in this case the state of an explosive mixture, for it will be in- the radiating or cooling surfaces should be increased, flamed if a lighted taper be presented to it. But it Twilled gauze, or a double or triple fold of wire is cooled below the exploding point, by passing gauze on one side of the lamp, or a skreen of metal through the wires, even if the wires are red hot; it between the lamp and the current, or a semicylinder is also cooled by being mixed with a considerable of glass or mica within, answers the object of prequantity of air comparatively cold. The tempera- venting the heat from rising to redness, ture of visible flame is very high, as is seen by the If the heat of the iron wire gauze rose to that of fusion of a small filament of that difficultly fusible a strong welding heat, a circumstance which never metal platinum, which happens when the filament is could happen in a colliery, then the iron wire would held in the flame of a candle. A considerable mass burn, and the lamp would be no longer safe, of heated metal is required to inflame fire damp. From a mine of Mr Lambton’s there is a violent An iron wire of ^ of an inch in diameter, and 8 blower of fire damp conveyed to the surface, upon inches long, red hot, when held perpendicularly in a which the following experiment was made. A brass stream ot fire damp, did not inflame it. But wire of pipe was fixed upon the blowrer-tube, so as to make

LAM Safety the whole stream of fire damp pass through an aperLann P- ture of less than half an inch in diameter. The fire {lamp when inflamed issued from this with great violence and noise, forming a flame of five feet long. This blow-pipe was' exposed at right angles to a strong wind. The double gauze lamps soon became red hot at the point of action of the two currents ; but the wire did not burn, nor did it communicate explosion. The single gauze lamp did not communicate explosion as long as it was red hot, and slowly moved through the currents; but when it was fixed at the point of the most intense combustion, it reached a welding heat; the iron wire began to burn with sparks, and the explosion then passed. In other experiments on this blower of fire damp, single wire gauze lamps, with slips of tin-plate on the outside, or in the inside, to prevent the free passage of the current, and double lamps, were exposed to all the circumstances of the blast j but the heat of the wire never approached near the point at which iron wire burns, and the explosion was not communicated. The flame of the fire damp flickered and roared in the lamps, but did not escape without the limits of the wire gauze. The sparks from a flint and steel mill, a machine which sometimes has been used to give light in mines affected with fire damp, would most probably inflame such a current as the blower above mentioned; because the sparks elicited from steel by the collision of flint, are small portions of the steel in a burning state, as may be seen by collecting these sparks on a sheet of paper, and viewing them with a microscope. The lamp without flame, which is sold as an object of amusement and curiosity, consists of a fine wire of platinum of jig of an inch in diameter, coiled into a spiral, and placed round the wick of a lamp fed with the spirit of wine, and a little above the wick; when the flame of the lamp is blown out, the heat which the wire has acquired is sufficient to keep up the slow combustion of the vapour of the spirit of wine, and this combustion continues to keep the platinum in an ignited state. The principle of this lamp without flame may be usefully applied to the safety lamp. By hanging some coils of fine wire of platinum above the wick of the lamp, it is believed that the coal miner will be supplied writh light in mixtures of fire damp, which, from the small proportion of atmospheric air, are no longer explosive; and should the flame of the lamp be extinguished by the quantity of fire damp, the glow of the incandescent platinum will continue to give light, and the incandescence will cease when the air becomes unrespirable. Sir Humphry Davy found that a spiral wire of platinum, of -^th or y^th of an inch in diameter, suspended within the safety lamp, yields light in a mixture of fire damp with atmospheric air, in which the atmospheric air is in so small a proportion, that the mixture is not explosive. In this situation the heat is not sufficiently great to produce combustion with flame, and combustion without flame takes place. The platinum wire, heated by the flame of the lamp, retains its heat after the flame is extinguished, and this heat is sufficient to occasion a slow combustion or combination of the

LAN 215 elements of the fire damp with the oxygen of the Safety atmospheric air; this slow combustion produces Dui'P sufficient heat to keep the platinum in a state of ig- Lanarkshire, nition. Platinum and palladium are the only metals found to produce this effect, because these two metals are of a slow conducting power and capacity for heat. This phenomenon takes place in mixtures of gas where there is common air enough to support the respiration of human beings. At Wallsend and other extensive collieries near Newcastle, in Northumberland, the following regulations respecting the safety lamps are observed. A steady man is employed to take charge of the lamps, and he is responsible for keeping them in good order. A chamber is allotted him, in which he keeps oil, cotton, and spare lamps ; the chamber is in a secure part of the mine, as near the workings as possible. The brass collar of the wire gauze cylinder is secured to the bottom of the lamp by a lock, which can be opened only by the lamp keeper ; so that the workmen cannot separate the wire gauze cylinder from the bottom of the lamp. After finishing their day’s work, the colliers bring the safety lamps to the lamp keeper’s cabin. The lamp keeper unlocks the lamps, keeps the bottom, and allows the colliers to take the wire gauze cylinders home for the purpose of cleaning them. When the colliers return to their work next day, the lamp keeper having replenished the lamps with oil and cotton, lights the wicks, screws on the gauze cylinders, and examines them carefully; if any defect appears in the gauze, the lamp is set aside to be repaired. The lamp keeper’s business, during the day, is to walk leisurely through amongst the workmen, carrying some spare lamps with him to replace those which happen to be extinguished. (y.) LANARKSHIRE, or Clydesdale, a county in situation. Scotland, situated between 55° 20' and 55° 56' north latitude, and 3° 25' and 4° 22' west longitude ; is bounded on the north by the counties of Dunbarton and Stirling, on the east by those of Edinburgh, Linlithgow, and Peebles, by Dumfries-shire on the south, and the shires of Ayr and Renfrew on the west. In length, from north to south, it is about ivxtent. 47 miles; its greatest breadth, from east to west, is 32, and it extends over 870 square miles, or 556,800 English acres, of which more than a third is fit for cultivation. It is divided into three Wards; the ^visions. Upper, of which Lanark is the chief town, contains about two-thirds of its area, on the east, south, and south-west, the greater part mountainous; the Middle, having the town of Hamilton in its centre, stretches along the west and north ; and the Lower, which contains tho city of Glasgow, and a small tract around it. This extensive district presents great variety of surface. surface. Some of the mountains in the Upper Ward, where it is bounded by Dumfries-shire, are about 3000 feet high; and Tinto, on the northern boundary of the hilly district, is nearly 2300. LeadhiUs, a village on its southern extremity, is 1564 feet above the level of the sea. But in proceeding along the banks of the Clyde, north from Tinto, the face of the country softens down to gentle elevations and depressions, and for 12 miles the river winds slowly

216 LAN Lanarkshire, through beautiful meadows. The Middle Ward is much less elevated, few of the heights being more than 700 feet above sea level; the town of Hamilton is only about 120; yet there are no plains of any extent except along the banks of the Clyde, and a considerable part of the surface is covered with moss, in many places of a great depth. Of the Lower, the greater part is a highly ornamented district, particularly the banks of the Clyde, which are thickly planted with villas, the summer residence of the wealthy inhabitants of the city of Glasgow. Rivers. The principal river, and, in a commercial point of view, the greatest in Scotland, is the Clyde, from which the county is frequently called Clydesdale. It has its rise in the ridge of mountains which separate Lanarkshire from Dumfries-shire, and flowing first north and then north-west, through the middle of the county, falls into the frith of the same name above Greenock, carrying with it the waters collected from 1200 square miles. The principal streams which join it on the south are Duneaton, Douglas, Nethan, Avon, and West Calder, and on the north the Medwin, Mouse, South and North Calders, and Kelvin which separates Lanarkshire from Dunbartonshire. The Clyde is navigable to Glasgow for vessels drawing nine feet of water, and two miles higher for smaller vessels. Most kinds of the fish found in the other rivers of Scotland are also abundant in the Clyde, particularly salmon. The celebrated falls have been described in the Encyclopcedia, under the article Clyde. Minerals. Sandstone and limestone are the prevailing rocks in the lower parts of Lanarkshire, and argillaceous schistus in the high grounds. In the Cathkin hills, near Glasgow, there is a number of basaltic columns, more than 40 feet high, inclined at an angle of about 70°. Ironstone abounds, and is wrought to a great extent at several large establishments. On the southern extremity are the well-known lead mines belonging to the Earl of Hopetoun, from which the village of Leadhills takes its name. In the same quarter gold was discovered in the time of James III., and afterwards collected in considerable quantities. But coal is by far the most important of its mineral treasures. It is supposed to stretch throughout an area of about 70,000 acres, and including the different seams to be about five feet thick. The field near Glasgow contains eight seams, one of them seven feet thick, the whole amounting to upwards of 30 feet. There are several good seams of cannel or candle coal in different parts of the county. This kind has been long used by the lower classes for lighting their houses, and it is known to yield more gas than common coal. va Estates. lued rent of Lanarkshire is L. 162,118, l6s. 10d. Scots; and the real rent of the lands, mines, and quarries, in 1811, was L. 298,019, 3s. Id., and of the houses L. 286,071, 13s. 5d, Sterling. More than three-fourths of the county is the property of great landholders, and almost half the valued rent is divided among estates of upwards of L. 1000; but small properties are very numerous, the far greater number being below L. 100 of valued rent. These small estates, with many of the class 10

LAN immediately above them, are cultivated by their Lanarkshire, owners ; the large ones are let out to tenants on s |M" leases, except the inclosed grass lands, a great part of which is let out from year to year for grazing only. The arable land is, for the most part, divided in- Farms, to farms of a moderate extent, held on leases for 19 years; but it is not an uncommon practice to let the grazing lands for two or three crops only, for which a high rent is often obtained. In 1798, according to the Agricultural Survey, the sheep pastures in the mountain districts yielded a rent of from 6d. to 1 s. fid. the Scots acre, and the arable land in that quarter 8s. In the Middle Ward, the wastes were still less valuable than in the Upper, and its arable land was estimated at 14s. an acre. In the Lower Ward, the average rent was computed to be 25s. It is probable that all these sums may now be nearly doubled. Much of the arable land in the first division is dry and fertile; clay prevails in the second and third ; and along the banks of the Clyde there are considerable tracts of an alluvial description. As this county slopes to the west almost through- Climate, out its whole extent, the Atlantic exerts a powerful influence on its climate. For about two-thirds of the year, the wind blows from the south-west and west ; intense frosts are of short duration, and snow seldom lies long in the lower districts; but, from the general humidity of the atmosphere, and also of the soil, seed-time and harvest are often late. In regard to heat, there is a considerable difference between the Upper and Middle Wards, the thermometer on the same day commonly standing several degrees higher in the latter than in the former. Its range is from 11° to 85°. The quantity of rain that falls at Glasgow varies from 19 to 36 inches. Lanarkshire is, therefore, upon the whole, less favourable to the culture of corn than the eastern counties of Scotland. The dairy is accordingly an object of considerable Dairies, importance here, and is carried on in all its branches. Besides the dairies kept in and near the city of Glasgow, for supplying the inhabitants with milk, cream, and fresh butter, a great number of cows are kept in the Middle and Lower Wards, the milk of which is applied to the making of butter, new milk, and skim milk cheese, and the fatting of calves. The best cheese is similar in quality to the Dunlop cheese of Ayrshire. Clydesdale has been long famous for its draught horses. See Agriculture and Dairy, in this Supplement. Besides the grounds in the environs of Glasgow, Orchards, from which the city is supplied with small fruits and culinary vegetables, there are considerable orchards in the county. Most of them are on the banks of the Clyde, from the lowest fall to the influx of the South Calder. The trees are chiefly apple, with a mixture of pear, and some plums. About 20 years ago, 300 acres were occupied with orchards, and their extent now is said to be greater. The produce is extremely precarious, but the land, which is for the most part on the steep banks of the river, is of little value for any other purpose. A much larger extent of the banks is occupied by coppice; and throughout the county a considerable space has

LAN Lanarkshire, been allotted to plantations, which consist chiefly ■rof Scots fir and larch. Inland Navi- Lanarkshire is traversed by good roads in all directions ; and, besides the Clyde, the navigation of which has been much improved by deepening and confining the bed of the river, it has the advantage of possessing an inland navigation, by means of three canals. These are, the Forth and Clyde Canal, which enters it on the north, in the parish of Calder, and, after a course of eight miles, passes into Dunbartonshire at the aqueduct over the Kelvin ;—at Stockingfield, a collateral branch proceeds to Port Dundas, at Glasgow ; the Monkland Canal, from the coal-wrorks in the parishes of Monkland, to the Forth and Clyde at Port Dundas; and the Ardrossan Canal, which is completed, from Port Eglinton, near Glasgow, to the village of Johnston, a distance of eleven miles, and is intended to be continued to Ardrossan, on the coast of Ayrshire, 22 miles farther. Towns. The city of Glasgow, with its manufactures and commerce, has been described in the articles Glasgow in the Encyclopcedia and in this Supplement. The other towns are, Lanark, Hamilton, Rutherglen, Biggar, Strathaven, and Kilbride. Lanark, the county town, and a royal burgh, 32 miles south-west of Edinburgh, and 25 south-east of Glasgow, was a place of importance so early as the time of Alexander I. In 1811, the parish contained a population of 5667. Hamilton is situated on the Clyde, 38 miles west of Edinburgh, and 11 south-east of Glasgow, with a population of 5453. In the neighbourhood is the seat of the Duke of Hamilton, and three miles below is Bothwell Bridge, noted for the defeat of the Covenanters, June 22, 1679 1 see Hamilton, in the Encyclopaedia. Rutherglen is a royal burgh, on the Clyde, 2^ miles above Glasgow. See this also in the Encyclopaedia. Biggar is a little market town, on the borders of Peebles-shire, 27 miles south south-

L A N 217 wrest of Edinburgh. Strathaven and Kilbride are Lanarkshire, small towns near Hamilton; the former has been long noted for its veal. There is a number of villages in the vicinity of Glasgow, which, by their situation, belong to that city, and several of considerable extent, in different parts of the county. Among the latter may be mentioned, Crawford, Carnwath, Airdrie, Douglas, Leadhills, Wilsontown, and New Lanark. At New Lanark, there is the largest establishment for cotton spinning in Scotland. Mr Owen, whose arrangements for the comfort and instruction of his people have been eminently successful, is the principal proprietor. The cotton-manufacture, the iron-works, and the collieries, give employment to the greater part of the inhabitants of Lanarkshire. Every great establishment has a considerable village in the neighbourhood, where the workmen reside. The county of Lanark sends to Parliament one Representamember, who is chosen by about 100 freeholders ; tion, &c. and its three royal burghs have a share in the election of two members more; Glasgow and Rutherglen being joined with Renfrew and Dunbarton, and Lanark with Selkirk, Peebles, and Linlithgow. It has one Sheriff-depute, whose jurisdiction extends over all the county, and three substitutes, at Lanark, Glasgow, and Hamilton. Lanarkshire contains 47 parishes, of which 11 belong to the Presbytery of Lanark, 14 to that of Hamilton, and 13 to that of Glasgow, all in the Synod of Glasgow and Ayr; and 9 to the Presbytery of Biggar, in the Synod of Lothian and Tweeddale. The increase of the population has been uncommonly rapid, particularly that of the city of Glasgow. The following tables exhibit an abstract of the census of 1800 and 1811. See Naismyth’s General View of the Agriculture of Clydesdale—Beauties of Scotland, Vol. III.—The General Report of Scotland—and Playfair’s Account of Scotland, Vol. I. (a.)

1800. * HOUSES.

PERSONS.

OCCUPATIONS.

By how many Families occupied.

Males. Females.

32,259 36,481

1,544 68,100 78,599

Persons chiefly employed in Agriculture.

Persons chiefly employed in Trade, Manufactures, or Handicraft.

All other Persons not comprised in the two preceding classes.

Total of Persons.

15,704

38,086

81,264

146,699

1811. HOUSES. By how many Families occupied.

PERSONS.

OCCUPATIONS.

Families chiefly emMales. Females. ployed in Agriculture.

32,040 42,510 1,184 88,688 103064

5,387

Families chiefly employed in Trade, Manufactures, or Handicraft. 27,672

All other Families not comprised Total of in the two Persons. preceding classes. 9,451

191,752

In the enumeration of 1800, the parish of Dalserf was not included; the population of which, in 1791, was 1100.

218 Lancashire.

LAN LANCASHIRE, a great commercial and mantifactoring county in the north-west of England. Situation. This district, which is situated between 53° 23' and 54,0 24' north lat. and between 2° 18' and 3° 7' west long, has Cumberland and Westmoreland on the north-east and north, Yorkshire on the east, Cheshire Extent. on the south, and the Irish Sea on the west. Its extreme length is about 74 miles, and its greatest breadth 44^, but the boundaries being very irregular, its outline is about 342 miles, which comprises an area of 1765 square miles, or 1,129^600 acres. Lancashire forms part of the northern circuit, is situated within the province of York, and diocese of Divisions. Chester, and divided into 6T parishes. The other divisions are hundreds, of which there are six, namely, Lonsdale on the north, Amounderness, Blackburn, and Leyland in the middle, and Salford and West Derby on the south. Most of these are again popularly subdivided, according to their relative situation, or the names of their towns. Form and The greater part of this county, from Rossall Surface. Point, on the north, to the Mersey, on the south, except where it is indented by the estuary of the Ribble on the west, lies tolerably compact in the form of an irregular square. To the north of Rossall Point, till it meets the county of Westmoreland, it is very narrow, with a sinuous boundary on all sides; and to the north-east there is a considerable tract called Furness, separated from the rest by extensive sands, where the river Ken, from Westmoreland, discharges itself into the Bay of Morecombe. Opposite the south point of Furness is the island Walney, and other seven, of which the largest is Old Barrow. On the north-east and north much of the surface is occupied with hills and moors, particularly in Furness, where the highest grounds have the name of Felh; and also on the east, where it is bounded by Yorkshire; but the south and west quarters spread out for the most part into low and fertile tracts, though not without being interrupted by pretty large fields of moss. Chat-moss, near Worsley, and Pilling-moss, farther to the north, are the most extensive, but many other though smaller tracts occur in various parts. Along the coast there is also a considerable extent of sandy marsh-land, particularly towards the north, near Lancaster and Warton, at the estuaries of the Leven and Duddon, in the noi'th-east or Furness district, and about the banks of the island of Walney. Climate. The climate of Lancashire is chiefly distinguished for its humidity. According to a register kept at Liverpool from 1784 to 1792, the least quantity of rain yearly was 24^ inches in 1788, and the greatest 54^ in 1792. At Lancaster, in the latter year, the quantity of rain was nearly 66 inches. Four inches have been known to fall in the course of a night. The mean heat at Lancaster, from 1784 to 1790* was 51° 8'. The prevailing winds are from the south, south-west, and north-east. As fogs are not frequent, nor the stagnant waters of any considerable extent, the climate is not insalubrious. Soils. The soils of this extensive district are necessarily various. The higher grounds, covered with heath and broken with rocks, have a sterile moorish soil ; 8

LAN but towards their base, and in the vallies which they Lancashire, form, it is for the most part of the nature of holme.— Loam and clay of various degrees of consistence prevail on the flat grounds, with portions of sand, gravel, and moss; and on the banks of the rivers, and at their estuaries, there are large tracts of an alluvial description. The under stratum of the heathygrounds is sandstone or freestone of different colours ; a blue rock, popularly called whinstone, is more common in the Fell tracts of Furness. Limestone prevails on the north-west, and towards the eastern boundaries. This and the freestone rock occasionally come in contact with one another in a very remarkable manner, a striking instance of which occurs near the town of Chipping, at the termination of the high ridge of Longridge Fell. In some places towards the eastern border, coal approaches so near the surface, as to constitute the substratum of the soil, and may be seen cropping out at Townley Park, and on the rising grounds on both sides. Marl is frequently found below the soil in the low grounds, and also under the mosses. Much of the vale land consists of rich pastures and meadows; what part of it is under tillage is very productive, and in many instances of a quality to yield turnips and other green crops, as well as grain. A strong clayey loam, however, appears to be the predominant soil throughout the low grounds on the south and west, which, with the wetness of the climate, renders cultivation more difficult and hazardous, than in many other districts. The principal mineral substances are coal, copper, Minerals lead, and iron. The first, and in a manufacturing * district by far the most important of these, is in great abundance in several parts of the county. The great coal tract commences below Prescot on the south, and, crossing the county in a north-east direction, passes into Yorkshire; but coal abounds farther to the south-east, near Manchester, and also to the north above Lancaster. Its quality, as well as the thickness of the beds, and the depth at which it is wrought, has considerable diversity; but it is chiefly of a bituminous description. Cannel coal is found near Wigan, and at other places, and sometimes in contact with the black coal, or a little mixed with it, as at the pits near Layton-hall. Copper is met with in the rough barren mountains, towards the northern extremity of the high Furness, or Fell district, particularly at Coniston, Muckle Gill, and Hartriggs ; but has not been found to the south of Lancaster Sands in such quantities as to be wrought with advantage. Lead occurs towards the north and northeast parts of the county, but in no great quantity. Iron is wrought to the north of Lancaster Sands, in the liberty of Furness. Though found in other quarters, it is not in much abundance, so as to make the working of it profitable. In the northern part of the high F urness tract quarries of blue slate have been opened. Sandstone is wrought in most parts of the county south of the Sands, and limestone, though it is found also in the Furness district, is most abundant on the Lancaster side. The main tracts of this rock are in the northern divisions above Lancaster, and near Chipping and Clitheroe, towards the borders of Yorkshire. More to the

LAN Lancashire, south, that is, throughout the larger and more vas«**v*w luable portion of the county, it occurs but seldom, and not to a great extent. Waters. Lancashire is naturally well supplied with waters, of which its inhabitants have industriously availed themselves in their manufacturing establishments, and in facilitating the transport of their products of all kinds. The principal rivers are the Mersey, the Irwell, the Kibble, and the Loyne or Lune. The Mersey, after receiving the Etherow and the Goyt from Cheshire, and the Tame from Yorkshire, becomes a large river at the town of Stockport, and after a winding course between this county and Cheshire, enters the Irish Sea a little below the town of Liverpool. By means of an artificial cut, it has been made navigable for vessels ot 60 or 70 tons from Liverpool to the mouth ot the Irwell, up which river the navigation is continued to Manchester. Irwell. The Irwell, which has its source among the hilly ranges to the south of Haslingden, also receives several streams, and flowing through a part of Manchester, where it is advantageously employed by the different manufactories, especially those ot spinning, dyeing, and calico-printing, falls into the Mersey a Flixton. little below Flixton. The Kibble is a large river which intersects the county from east to west. It enters Lancashire from Yorkshire, above the town of Clitheroe, and flowing through the beautiful vale of Ribblesdale, joins the Irish Sea a little below the town of Preston, to which it is navigable for small vessels. The Loyne or Lune, also a large river, has its source in the fells of Westmoreland, and comes into Lancashire a little below Kirkby Lonsdale, and passing by the town of Lancaster, afterwards expands into a broad estuary, and empties itself into the Irish Sea. The Alt, the Douglas, the M yer, the Winster, the Leven, the Crake, and the Dudden, are also considerable streams; and many others, though in a general description not worthy of notice for their size, afford the most important facilities to the manufactories established on their courses. There are several pieces of water in the county, known by the name of lakes, waters, meres, and tarns. Of these the most considerable is Coniston lake, or Thurston water, and Esthwaite water, both in Furness. With these may be mentioned the lake of Windermere, which, though not properly belonging to Lancashire, enters it by its southern point, and forms its boundary for eight or ten miles. Mineral springs have been found at Cartmel, Flukeborough, Wigan, Latham-house, near Ormskirk, and other places. Canals. Of the canals by which a great part of this county is traversed in almost every direction, it would be difficult to give an intelligible description without references to a map, and the limits of this article admit only of noticing them very generally. The great importance of an interior communication by water had been recognized in this quarter a considerable time before any attempt was made to form one entirely artificial. The first object was to render some of the rivers navigable, as in the instance of the Mersey and Irwell, already mentioned, to effect which acts of Parliament were obtained in 1719 and 1720. But the droughts and tides which affect the navigation VOL. V. PART II.

LAN

219

of these and other rivers, have been found to oc- Lancashire, casion so much inconvenience, that more recently a preference has been given to channels of communication formed wholly by human labour. The first work of this description in Lancashire, and probably in England, was the Sankey canal, from the Mersey to near St Helen’s, which, including its branches, extends nearly twelve miles. It was finished about sixty years ago. Besides this canal, the county is intersected by nine others, four of which communicate with the populous town of Manchester. Of these we can only notice the more considerable. The Duke of Bridgewater’s Canal, in so far as it belongs to Lancashire, commences in the suburbs of Manchester, and terminates at Pennington, near the town of Leigh. Under the town of Manchester a portion of it passes into arched tunnels, from one of which coals are hoisted up out of the bai’ges below, through a shaft, and delivered into a large coal-yard in the main street. Before it reaches the coal-works at Worsley, it is carried under ground for three quarters of a mile. The Lancaster canal commences at Kirkby Kendal in Westmoreland, and terminates at West Houghton, to the eastward of Wigan, after a course of 75f miles. The principal object in executing this great work was to open a ready communication between the coal and limestone districts, and between the port of Lancaster and the populous towns on the north and south. It is on an average seven feet deep, and is navigable by boats of 60 tons burden. The Leeds and Liverpool canal is of still greater length. It extends between the towns of Liverpool and Leeds, along a line of 107§ miles, and communicating at the latter place with the Aire, which is navigable to the German Ocean, and at the former with the Mersey, which falls into the Irish Sea ; the navigation is thus completed between the eastern and western seas. On this canal flats of 42 tons are employed in the coal trade between Leeds and Wigan, and passage-boats are in constant use between these towns. The other canals, though works of great importance when each is considered separately by itself, are much inferior to those we have mentioned. A considerable portion of the territory of this Landed Pro* county belongs in property to his Majesty, as DukepeUy. of Lancaster. The greater part of this consists of what is called forest lands, all of which are situated in the most northern parts. It is held in general on leases for thirty years, and yields but an inconsiderable revenue. A few other estates are also of a considerable extent, but, generally speaking, landed property is much subdivided, and hence Lancashire has a greater number of land-owners than any other county in England, Middlesex excepted; many of the estates not affording a rental of L. 200 a year, and not a few being below L. 50. Lancashire does not excel in its agriculture. Agriculture. Only about a fourth of its surface is computed to be under corn and other tillage crops, the other threefourths, subject to a deduction for wastes, roads, &c. being chiefly occupied in grazing and for the purposes of the dairy; and it has been estimated that it does not raise corn sufficient for the support of its population for more than three months in the year.

220’ LAN Lancashire. All the different sorts of corn, however, are cultivatand where the soil is naturally fertile the crops are often abundant; but turnips and other ameliorating crops are not in general use, nor always, where grown to some extent, properly attended to. 1 otatoes, however, are cultivated not only upon a large scale but with great care and success; this root, with oatmeal, forming the principal food of the working classes. They were introduced into this county from Ireland, and are said to have been cultivated here long before they had found their way into most other parts of England. Lancashire was long noted for its breed of horned cattle, but a variety of other breeds have been introduced, particularly the Holderness, or short-horned, which are preten ed to the Lancashire in the milk dairies near the town, and sometimes also in those at some distance, where the principal object is butter. The native breed is the kind more commonly kept for the cheese dairies, farther into the interior. A cow yields, upon an average throughout the year, from eight to twelve quarts of milk daily, or from four to six pounds of butter in the week, or from three to four hundred weight of cheese in the year. A considerable number of good horses are bred anti reared, but its sheep stocks are inconsiderable, and seldom of a valuable description. Farms are in general small, and held either on short leases or without any lease at all, so that a tenant has no encouragement to invest capital in the improvement of the soil, di trict turesand" • This f > however, is greatly distinguished by manu actur Commerce, * es and commerce, which afford employment to three-fourths of its crowded population. Of the former, that of cotton, which is here conducted in all its branches on the most extensive scale, has long been the most considerable. The town of Manchester, where it seems to have had its origin in England, is still its principal seat, though several of the other towns, such as Preston, Garstang, Blackburn, Clitheroe, Middleton, Burnley, Wigan, Bury, Bolton, and Ashton, have a considerable share of it, and, indeed, it is more or less spread over the greater part of the county. (See the articles Cotton Manufacture and England in this Supplement.) At Eavenhead, near Prescot, plate-glass and mirrors are made to a considerable extent; brass, pewter, and copper works, are carried on at Wigan and at St Helen’s; Warrington has manufactures of sail-cloth, linens, and checks, with the making of pins and glass, and iron-founderies ; and Rochdale and Ashton furnish a variety of the coarser articles of woollen. From the great extent and variety of its manufactures, it is natural to infer that its commerce must

LAN be upon a scale proportionally extensive, and it is Lancashire, so. Liverpool, as a commercial town, is now perhaps second only to London; and to this rank it has attained from a very low beginning little more than a century ago. In prosperous times, the enterprise of its merchants exchanges the products of British capital and industry with those of almost every climate ; and, at all times, it carries on an extensive commerce with America and the West Indies, and with Ireland; to which has been recently added a large share of the East India trade. The ports of Preston, Poulton, Warrington, Ulverston, and Lancaster, the county town, are chiefly employed in the coasting trade. As a considerable portion of the people of Lan- Labouring cashire are employed in working up goods for a fo- Classes, reign market, the condition of the labouring classes, m particular, is much affected by the changes which occur from time to time in that market, and which it is not always possible to anticipate. They are sometimes in the receipt of wages more than sufficient for their comfortable subsistence, and at other times many are thrown out of employment altogether, and the rest retained at wages confessedly inadequate to their support. This is true in an especial manner ot its great staple, the cotton manufacture. Prom this cause, and perhaps also owing to the inconsiderate habits and want of foresight, which such fluctuations are apt to engender, ^the poor-rates ot this county amounted, in 1815, to about L. 400,000, whereas, 40 years before, they were little more than L. 50,000. According to the census of 1811, the population Population, of Lancashire was 828,309, which, taking its area as before stated at 1765 square miles, gives for every square mile nearly 470 inhabitants. The number of males was 394,104; of females, 434,205. There were 23,305 families, chiefly employed in agriculture ; 114,522 chiefly employed in trade, manufactures, and handicraft; and the families not comprised in these two classes were 24,072. The returns for Manchester, in 1811, exhibit a population ol 98,573; for Liverpool 94,376 • and Wigan, Warrington, Oldham, Blackburn, Bolton, Rochdale, Preston, and Lancaster, contained each 10,000 inhabitants and upwards. This county sends 14 members to Parliament; Representa. two tor the shire, and two for each of the towns oftion Liverpool, Newton, Wigan, Preston, Clitheroe, and Lancaster. See Beauties of England and Wales, Vol. IX.; Dickson s General View of the Agricidture of Lanca-. Avhre, 1815; and the article Lancashire in the Encyclopaedia. /A \

221

LANGUAGES. scope for the employment of all our faculties in the Languages, analysis and comparison of the various languages of'-^,Vw Europe, Asia, and Africa. If, indeed, an extraordithe origin and structure of the most remarkable lan- nary exertion of enterprise and industry, which can guages has been given at length, and in detail. The be expected from a few distinguished individuals subiect will at present be resumed in a point of view only in the course of as many centuries, should more strictly historical, and a classification somewhat make known relations, such as Alexander von Hummore extensive of all the known languages of the boldt has appeared to discover, between the Ameriancient world will be attempted; some of the can and Asiatic nations, a new field would be openmaterials being almost necessarily derived from the ed for the gratification of our curiosity; but it can Mithridates of Adelung and Vater, and the publica- scarcely be expected that these points of resemblance tions of Jamieson and of Townsend, together with the can be sufficiently numerous, to afford any thing like criticisms on those works inserted in the Quarterly demonstrative evidence, until the whole subject has Review. „ . . been much more deeply and repeatedly discussed. The study of the affinities of various languages is In the mean time, a very brief enumeration of the so far one of the most important of all branches of names of the American languages is all that can be human knowledge, as it affords, when propeily ap- required, on an occasion like the present; except the plied, an unerring test of the truth or falsehood or insulated though interesting remark, that the counhistorical evidence, without which it would some- tries separated by Behring’s Straits exhibit, as might times be impossible to unravel the mysteries of con- indeed be expected, strong resemblances, in some tradictory testimonies, respecting the relations of the of their languages. different races of mankind. We have, for example, Of language in general this essay is not intended no traditional evidence in support of any connexion to treat, but merely of languages as they are distinct between the ancient Egyptians and the Indians, from each other. It is not, however, very easy to while, on the other hand, a number of persons, who say what the definition ought to be that should concame with the English army from the East Indies stitute a separate language ; but it seems most natuinto Egypt, were so strongly impressed with the re- ral to call those languages distinct, of which the one semblance of the Egyptian and Indian temples, cannot be understood by common persons in the hawhich appeared even to-excite the religious feelings bit of speaking the other, so that an interpreter of many of the natives who were among the troops would be required for communication between peremployed, that a very general inclination has arisen sons of the respective nations. Still, however, it from these circumstances, to consider the Egyptian may remain doubtful whether the Danes and the mythology as merely a branch of the Indian. But Swedes could not, in general, understand each other if the Egyptian people had really been of Indian tolerably well, and whether the Scottish Highlandorigin ; that is, if the Egyptians and Indians had ers and the Irish would be able to drink their whisky really been one people, at any later period than that, together without an interpreter ; nor is it possible to at which the whole of the Indian and European races say, if the twenty ways of pronouncing the sounds, were separated from their common stock, the lan- belonging to the Chinese characters, ought or ought guages of India and of Egypt could not buthave exhi- not to be considered as so many languages or diabited some features of resemblance, which would lects, though they would render all oral intercourse have preserved the traces of the connexion; while, between the persons so speaking the language actuin fact, there is much less similarity between the ally impracticable. But, whether we call such variaEgyptian and the Indian, than between the Indian tions different languages, or different dialects, or and the Greek, or the English and the Persian; so merely different pronunciations of the same dialect, that etymology may here be adduced as confirming it is obvious that they ought all to be noticed in a the evidence, or as justifying the silence, of history ; complete history of languages; and, at the same and the resemblance of the mythological representa- time, that the languages so nearly allied must stand tions must be considered as in great measure acci- next to each other in a systematical order ; the perdental. , . . fection of which would be, to place the nearest togeIt is, however, only with regard to the languages ther those languages, in which the number of coinof the ancient world that we can feel much interest cidences in the signification of words, throughout in such an investigation. The American dialects the language, are the most numerous. might afford equally extensive subjects of speculaIt has sometimes been imagined, that all languages tion in a metaphysical and critical point of view; but in existence present something like a trace of having the concerns of barbarians, unconnected and remote been deduced from a common origin ; and it would from all contact with literature or civilization, and be difficult to confute this opinion by very positive destitute of all historical records, will scarcely be evidence, unless every separate language had been thought to require any great portion of attention very completely analysed and examined by a person from a philosophical inquirer; and there is ample

Languages ^ a philosophicaland andPhilology, critical account of i aiieuaees £ In the article*Language of the

LANGUAGES. Languages, ^ell acquainted with a variety of other languages, nor any other that can be assigned, are absolutely Languages. with which it might be compared. But, without such universal; for besides the numberless varieties refer- 1 j- , an examination, the opinion must remain conjectural able more or less immediately to Abba, Father, we only, and no more admissible as demonstrated, than have at least twenty different and independent terms the opinion of some empirics, that there is only one for the same relation in the old world ” Tia, Issa disease, and that the only remedy for it is brandy. Plar, Hair, Rama, Hiam, Rina, Kettem, AssainaIn an essay on probabilities, lately published in the lagi, Medua, Themes, Sunk, lot, Anathien, Mcssee, Philosophical Transactions, Dr Young has remarked, Indaa, Nu, Nam., Monung, Dengubey, Ray, Tikkob, that “ nothing whatever could be inferred, with re- and Oa, and about as many for Name, besides those spect to the relation of two languages, from the coin- languages, in which the version of an abstract term cidence of the sense of any single word in both of of this kind is less likely to have been ascertained • themthat is, supposing the same simple and limit- Ming, Tren, Biant, Sheri, Hessara, Shem, Tsarship, ed combinations of sounds to occur in both, but to Ad, Nipla, Liim, Sacheli, Assia, Wasta, Ngala, Taibe applied accidentally to the same number of ob- ra, Sunna, Ran, Hhili, Ding, Dbai, and Anghara. jects, without any common links of connexion; “ At the same time, therefore, that we venerate the “ and that the odds would only be three to one traces of our common descent from a single pair, against the agreement of two words; but if three wherever they are still perceptible, we must not exwords appeared to be identical, it would be more pect to find them in all existing languages without than ten to one that they must be derived, in both exception; and an Etymologicon Universale, concases, from some parent language, or introduced in sidered as intended to establish such a perfect comsome other manner,” from a common source; “six munity of derivation, can only be regarded as a viwords would give near 1700 chances to one, and sionary undertaking. Nor must we neglect to unite, eight near 100,000; so that, in these last cases, the in some common arrangement of classification, those evidence would be little short of absolute certainty.” languages which have the words here specified, or The author of the Review of Mithridates observes, any other radical words, in common, as incomparably that, setting out from the establishment of a certain more related to each other than the Chinese to the number of separate languages as species, “ we may Cantabrian, or the Irish to the Hottentot. proceed to comprehend, in the description of one “ Tlie gradations, by which a language is likely to family, such as have more coincidences with each vary in a given time, seem to be in some measure deother than diversities, and to refer to the same class pendent on the degree of cultivation of the language, such families as exhibit any coincidences at all that and of the civilization of the people employing it. are not fortuitous, imitative,” that is, from onomato- From Homer to the Byzantine historians, the Greek poeia, “ or adoptive. In order, however, to avoid too language remained essentially the same for 2000 great a number of classes, which would arise from an years; the German has varied but little in 1500; inadequate comparison of languages imperfectly and even the English, notwithstanding its mixture* known, it may be proper, in some cases, to adopt a with French and Latin, has altered but three radical geographical distinction, as sufficient to define the li- words, out of the fifty four which constitute the mits ot a class, or to assist in its subdivision into or- Lord s Prayer, in the same period. On the other ders. We are thus obliged to employ an arrange- hand, a few barbarians in the neighbourhood of ment of a mixed nature” and, in fact, the tests of Mount Caucasus and of the Caspian Sea, of modern affinity here proposed depend so much on the pro- origin, and ignorant of the art of writing, are dividgress of our knowledge, in the study of each lan- ed into more nations speaking peculiar languages, raguage, that the results must unavoidably be liable to dically different from each other, than the whole of great uncertainty and fluctuation ; so that we can civilized Europe. In such cases, little light can be reasonably expect nothing more than an approxima- thrown upon history by etymological researches, tion to an arrangement completely methodical. while, with regard to more cultivated nations, we If> continues the Reviewer, “ the resemblance obtain, from the examination of their languages, hisor identity of a single word, in two languages, sup- torical evidence of such a nature, as it is scarcely posed to be exempt from the effects of all later in- possible for either accident or design to have falsitercourse, were to be esteemed a sufficient proof of fied.” their having been derived from a common stock, it According to the supposition of Professor Adew ould follow, that more than half the languages of the lung, it seems not improbable that Tibet, on the east universe would exhibit traces of such a connexion, of Cashmir, may “ have been the habitation of Adam in whatever order we might pursue the comparison. immediately after his fall, and the country occupied 1 hus we find in a very great number, and perhaps by the descendants of Cain. In Tibet, and in the in a majority of known languages, that the sSund "of countries immedffileiy be^d t, Jhe Hngua^s of t 1 a abla C S I ant 18 Ihl name of ^ ! 7 ; and ?° this ? ? be . ’ supposed enjoyed 1 if the Father to for be at least 150 millions of people are still principally Monosyllabic, and from this peculiarity, as well something like an onomatopoeia, or an application as the singular simplicity of their structure, ot the first sounds which an infant naturally utters, theyfrom are supposed to constitute the most ancient the same reason cannot possibly be assigned for the class of existing languages, though it must be constill more general occurrence of the combination fessed that much of Adelung’s reasoning on this km in the term Name, which is by no means likely subject is extremely inconclusive.” Mr Townsend to have originated from any natural association of remarks very judiciously, that one of the canons of this kind. But neither these points of resemblance. Rudbeck is by no means admissible. “ He states, II

223 LANGUAGES. Languages. Languages- that a language, which has numerous monosyllabic longing to the two former; which may be called ^—.—•-'expressions, is a parent language. The English has Atactic, or, perhaps, without much impropriety, more than 3700 monosyllabic expressions, and the Tataric ; and which may be subdivided into five Chinese has none but such ; yet neither of them is, orders, Sporadic, Caucasian, Tartarian, Siberian, for that reason, to be considered as a parent lan- and Insular. The African and American language. Certain it is, that all languages, by abbrevi- guages will constitute a fourth and a fifth class, sufations, have a tendency to become monosyllabic, and ficiently distinct from all the rest, but not intended therefore a language, which abounds in monosyl- to be considered as any otherwise united among lables, is ancient, and these commonly are the most themselves, than by their geographical situation. antiquated parts of every language. New compounds There is indeed little doubt, that some of the lan> are incessantly created. These are abbreviated, and guages here called Tataric are essentially allied to in process of time become monosyllabic. In deriv- others, which are referred to the Indoeuropean ing, therefore, a word in one language, from its class; but they have been too little investigated, to correspondent expression in some other language, allow us to make the selection that would be requirwe must ever bear in mind, that, unless in the for- ed for completing the classification. The following tables are copied, with some conmation of new compounds, the least abbreviated is commonly the parent, and the most abbreviated its siderable’ additions, from the Quarterly Review, offspring. Would it be possible for any one to per- where they stand as extracted, in great measure, suade us that Colaphus was derived from Cuff, or from Adelung’s Mithridates. The words Heaven Blaspheme from Blame ?” “ A similar instance,” and Earth are chosen as specimens, because they says the Reviewer, “ might be found in Truchelos seem to be known in a greater number of languages and Hals of the Greeks and Germans; for certainly than any others, except the name of Father, which is supposed to exhibit, in some cases, a fallacious siHals is more like Trachelos than like Collurn.” The Chinese, however, which is the principal, milarity. The German orthography has been prinand probably the most ancient of the monosyllabic cipally employed, except in such languages as are languages, is distinguished from almost all others by usually written in the Roman characters, the proa more marked peculiarity, which is, that its written nunciation of the consonants being more uniform characters, instead of depicting sounds, are the im- than in English, and that of the vowels differing mediate symbols of the objects or ideas, and are little from the Italian. even imperfectly represented by the sounds, whatever difference of accent or tone may be exhibited Classes, Orders, and Families of Languages. by the most refined speaker; as indeed it may happen accidentally in our own language, that we may iii. Tartarian I. Monosyllabic. be at a loss to explain, without circumlocution, whe27. Turcotartarian 1. Chinese ther we mean to say Son or Sun ; Beer or Bier; 28. Mantshuric 2. Siamese Bear or Bare ; You, Ewe, Yew, or U; but in the 29. Tungusic 3. Avanese Chinese the real cause of this essential characteristic iv. Siberian 4. Tibetan appears to be, that the symbol was in fact originally 30. Permian II. Indoeuropean. intended as a hieroglyphic or picture of the object, 31. Wogulic 5. Sanscrit though the resemblance, coarse as it probably was 32. Ostiak 6. Median at first, has been generally altogether lost by the 33. Tsheremissic 7. Arabian modifications which the character has conventually 34. Morduin 8. Lycian undergone. And in this point of view the Chinese 35. Teptjerai Cf. Phrygian would require to be classed with the old Egyptian 36. Samoiedic 10. Greek only, since we know of no other language which was 37- Camashic 11. German habitually expressed in hieroglyphics and their im38. Jeniseiostiak 12. Celtic mediate derivatives. It is not at all uncommon for 39. Jukadshiric 13. Etruscan the same sound in Coptic, as in Chinese, to have 40. Koriak 14. Latin four of five senses all essentially different; as may 41. Kamtshatkan 15. Cantabrian easily be observed in turning over a dictionary; v. Insular 16. Sclavic hoou, for instance, means Bad, and Them, and a 42. Kurilee Shomer, in two verses of St Matthew, v. 45, 46, and III. Tataric 43. Eastern Islands i. Sporadic perhaps several other things. 44. Japanese 17. Tshudish Another ancient and extensive class of languages, 45. Leu Cheu 18. Hungarian united by a greater number of resemblances than 46. Formosan 19. Albanian can well be altogether accidental, may be denomi47. Philippine ii. Caucasian nated the Indoeuropean, comprehending the In48. New Holland, E, 20. Armenian dian, the West Asiatic, and almost all the European 49. Van Diemen’s 21. Georgian languages. If we chose to assign a geographical 50. New Caledonian 22. Abassan situation to the common parent of this class, we 51. New Zealand 23. Circassian should place it to the south and west of the suppos52. Easter Island 24. Ossetish ed origin of the human race ; leaving the north for IV. African 25. Kistic our third class, which we can only define as includV. American. 26. Lesgian ing all the Asiatic and European languages not be-

LANGUAGES. • 224 Earth. Heaven, Sky. Languages. Languages.'Families, Species, or Distinct Languages, and Sindh Varieties or Dialects, with Specimens. Multan Oshman Dzhemi I. MONOSYLLABIC CLASS. Amengi, Tsheros Pu, Phu, Pube Gipsey Wuch Heaven, Sky. Earth. Sikh 1. Chinese Tien, Li Ti, To Cashmir Fo Kien Tshio Tshid Kuch (l.Katka; S.TuhmTonquinese Thien, Bloi Dat, Dia ka ; Man, Mipa; Laos {Man, Phu chai) Father, P’ha) 2. Siamese Sa wang Din Maldivian Ouddou, Uda Bin {Man, Pho chai, Swurga, Ahaza Cingalese Bumidshe,Bumi Hand, Mu) Bumi, Dunga, Malayan Surga 3. Avanese Mo kaun, Nip ban Lu pu, Mie Tana Peguan Mo kaun La pri ? Tre Sumatran [rik) Rukheng (Ma/t,Lu; Hand, Batta {Day, Torangha- Tana L Tibetan Nam khei [Lak) Dshik ten, Sa Rejang (Dat/jBileytueng) Pihta {Day, Rannih) Tanno Lampuhn II. INDOEUROPEAN CLASS. Achim {Day, Urai) Tano Neas 5. Sanskrit Paramandale, Vana, Bumi, Stira p Aagaska, Svarga, °ggy Javanese Surga, Dilangin Lemma, Darat Yeigunda, Artha{Night, Malang) Borneo loga, Nibu {Man, Andaman Madamo, {Head, Ta- Totongnandshi Purusha bai) Saggo [Man, Pariso) Prakrit 6. Median Bali Saggo {Man, BurutZendish Tshekhre, Sakhter, Za, Zao, Zemo, sa) Esmen6, Spereze Zemeno Devanagri Ardwa, Arthaloga Buma Pehlvish Tsherk, Shmeha, Se- Zivanand, Arta, Nepal per Damik, Leka, Assam Bamih Tiperah Persian Asmon Semin, Zemin, Kassai Chaki, Chark, Bengalee Shorgue, Behesht Forthibit Morto Bum Hindee {Bucharian) Urdu Kurdish Asman, Bauta Ard, Sigit, ChaBrijbassa ak, Choli Jypura Afghan Asmo, Asman Smak, Sm’ige, Hindustanee Zmuku Asraaan, Mukuti Sjimien, DshiaMoors min, Dunia 7. Arabian Shemaio Syriac Aro, Areto Udaipura Simmi Ashaman Dinii Assyrian Benares Terti Phenician Munipura Punic Goandee Shamaiim Hebrew Arez Orissa Shemaia Chaldee Ara, Arga Telug Paramandal Bumi, Bumilo Samaritan Sumiii {King, Raja) Naela Aroa Telinga Semavati Arabic Ardi Carnatic Marvua Modern A- Ssamvat,Shema,Te- Arz, Ardh, Auf, lek Turap, Aalem Wana, Mana, Para- Pumii, Nawarg rabic Tamul Mar ocean Smavat Ord mandal [pam) Maleiam Wana {Bread, ApEthiopic Samaiat Mydrni Geez Malabar Asmanu, Agasha Bhumi, Samina Midre Tigri Kanara Weikuntha, Agasha Pumandala, PuSamai, Samaie Mydrm, Medre, Amharic Medere Decan Sorgi Pirtumir, Szemmey [zijet Middrih Hauasa Soumssar, Sema, Smeviet, Sme- Art Maltese Zimmin {Son, Tidaimi; Kunkuna 8. Lycian And, Atbi) Mahratta Weikuntham, Suar- Pumandi,Saum{Bread, Bek; Wagi, Agasha sar. Puma 9. Phrygian ter, Bedii) Guzurat Paramanda Bumi Ouranos Ge Beloshee 10. Greek Ouranos Ge (Afghan) Romaic Airtha Bikanira 11. Germanic, Himina, Himins 12 360

225 LANGUAGES. Languages, Heaven, Sky. Earth. Earth. Languages. Heaven, Sky. Susdalian Nebo Zemla Erdu Alemannish, 720 Himil Servian Erde Classical German HImmel Uskok Nebesse Semli Jerde TransylvanianG. Hemmel Ragusan Nebbu Semgli Hardi Jewish German Himal TransylvaHimmel,Kernel Eere, Erde Low Saxon nian Scl. Nibe (Bread, Liab) Hiemmel Jerde, Yrtrik Frieslandish Croatian Nebi, Nebiesi Semlji Hemmel Eerde, Wroll North Friesl. South Wen- Nebi Semli, Krai Hemel Aerde, EerDutch dish tryke, 1270 Hungaro- Nebi Semi Jord Danish Himmel wendish Jord, Jera Norwegian Himmel Polish Niebie Siemie Yurn Orkney Chimrie Kashubish Nebo Ziemie Jord Icelandic Himne Bohemian Nebi, Wnebi Semi Himil, Himirik Jord, Jordriki Swedish Serbian, I7p-Niebiu Semi Himblum Jord Dalecarlian per Lusatia Hymblum Tord Gothlandish Low- Nebu Semi Eortha Danish Saxon,880 Heofena er Lusatia Eorth, Yearth English, ll60 Heaven Polabish, Nibis, Nebui Ssime 12. Celtic 1691 Neamh, Nau Italamh, ThaiIrish Lithuanian land!, Talu Old Prussian Delbes, Dangon Semie, Worsinny Talamh, DtalmNeamh Gaelic Prussolithu- Debsissa, Danguje Zemes, Sjemes huin aman Tallu Niau Manks Ziame, Ziames Polonolithu- Danguose Talmhin Neambh Walden anian Cimbric Zemme Crivingian Dangus Nefoedd, Nef Ddaear Welsh Semmes, Zemmo Lettish ProDebbes Nore Neau, Nev Cornish Duar, Dovar per Eon, Euff Brittanish {Bread, Puni, Urtu) 13. Etruscan Ccelum Terra, Tellus III. TATARIC CLASS. IL Latin Terra Cielo Italian Terra Siel Piedmontese i. Sporadic Order. Terra Cel Waldensic P. 17. Tshudish Terra Ze Genoese Maa Taiwas Finnish Terra Ciel Onsernone Ma Taiwag Olonetzish Terra Zielo Venetian Taiwag, Taivazh Mua, Mu a Carelish Tiarra Cil. Ciil Friidian Ma Esthonian Taewas Terraz Cel Valais Maal Tauwis [Tsiatse Livonian Terra Cil Bolognese Laplandish Almen, Almism, Aednemen Celu [Quelu Terra Sicilian Fold, Fjeld, Me18. Hungari- Menny, Meneg Cel, Chelo, Terra Sardinian zon an Spanish Zee, Sje, Be Tierra 19. Albanian Kiel, Kielt Cielo Castilian De Calabroalban.CbiQ\x\e Terra Cel Catalonian Dee Siculoalban. Chiex Terra Ceo Gallician Terra Ceo Portuguese Terra ii. Caucasian Order. Ciel, Tshiel Ilomanish Terra Cel Provengal 20. Armenian Hierkins, Girkin, Hierkri, Gerkrii, Terre Ciel French Erkir, Tap, Ergink TerrS Ceou Beamish Huoch Terro Cel Rovergne Sze, Miza, Kwe21. Georgian Tza, Zata Terre Ciel Flanders Dikha [kara Imirettish Tshash Ter Cir Walloon Dicha Mingrelish {Bread, Tshkomi) Wallachian Gim Suanetish Tsah Tsheri, Czelurg Pamentiv Dacian Jobste Tushetic (Bread, Mak) Pimchita Cutzowallachian Cerio 22. Abassan Agughan, Ashnan Astula, Tshiillah Lurre 15. Cantabrian Sseru Kush Hasib (Braid, Tshakua Tula 16. Sclavic Makua) Sclavonian Jlti Kesek (Bread, Mikel) Tzula Semli Russian Church Nebesi Tshi, Jaethae 23. Circassian Wuafa Semla Common Russian Nebo Tshach) Cabardinish Phemeh, (Bread, Zemla Malorussian Nebo

226 Languages-

LANGUAGES. Heaven, Sky. Earth. iv. Siberian Order. Language*, Heaven, Sky. Tshigit, Segh, 24. Ossetish Arv, Arwi Earth. Arf Gukh [Stil 30. Permian Olaniin, Kumar Ma, Mu Dugorish Sirjanish Jen esh, Nebus Mu Sigelich, Stuigley Late, Mezha, 25. Kistic Wotiak Wiiliin, Kiildenju- Muslim, Sioi Ghumm 26. Lesgian mar. In, Immun, Zo, Zob Rati Chunsag Tslim kiid Zuv Bak Avaric 31. Wogulic Eterdarum Zub, Zuv Tshedo Dido Maanku Tshussovic Tarom, Nair Kasi Kumiik Sur Kerki Ma Verchoturic Numma Andi Teshin Misa, Bisa, Tshur Ma Tsherdymic Tul Akushan {Bread, Katz, Mussa, Musseka Ma Berezovan W. Soum Kubeshan Zub £Zulhe)Muza Mag 32. Ostiak Nopkon Kalalatish Reshin # Unshi Jogodt Berezovan O. Nomen, Numto- Mug, Mil rem, Saika iii. Tartarian Order. Narymic Nusunde Mug Joganic Ninnak 27- TurcotarMilch TARIAN LumpokolicO.Num torom Much Caspian VashuganskanTorom, Jom Tagai Gug, Kiokler, Chi- Jer, Gyr, Kher, Turkish Tazian Lom Tshvotsh ojler Ber 33. Tsheremjs- Kiusiuluste, Kiish- Ijulmin,MelenZamin, Chak, Bucharian Telek, Asman, sic na juma. Pi], Pil testa, Rok, Kukliar Jusjurd pundash, Joma, Mlande, MuCrimean Gug,Ghiogh, Chok, Gier Tiinja lens, ZantiuKok lek Kuk, Heda Er, Toprak Nogaic 34. Morduin Miinel, Werepass, Master, Moda Cumanish Kuk, Kek, Kik Jer Manen Kasanish Kuk, Tengeri, Sa- Ger, Ars Moktanic Shkai Mastor, Moda MestsheretQmoh 35. Teptjerai skic Kuk Jer 36. Samojedic Bashkiric Kuk, Ava Jer, Dzhir Archangel Numilembarti Jae Tobolskic Auva, Asman Irjo, Gir, Jir Pustozerskan Nunara Ja Kirgishic Kiuk, Asman Dzher Oby Num, Nomiin Joa, Ma, Mogh Tarary Jir Auva, Asman Juratshic Nub Ja Tomskic Kok, Asman Jer Mangazeic S, Podassie Da Turetish Gkiok, Gioch Toprak Tawgish Nuonto, Nuon, Mamoru Tshulimic Tengri Jer Ngoa, Noa Jeniseic Tengeri Tobrak, Dzhir Turucanish Na, Teiga Ja, Baddu Kuznetic Tengeri Jer, Tsher, Tomskic S. Nom fiinde, Lom Tuetsh Barabish Asman, Hava Der [Toprak Narymic S. Tit Tuetsh Usbek, Chi- Asman Jer, Toprak Ketish Tita Tuetsh vinic Timskic Tit Tiitsh Tegir, Tengeri Teleutic Cir, Jer, Toprak Caragassic Tit, Tere Tiitsh, Dsha Jakutic Tagara, Chaltan Sirr, Jeme, Bor 37. Camashic Num, Ti urach Dsha, Dzhu Tshuwashic Piillu, Pilt, Sunda- Sir, Ser Taigish Numuidi Dzha Mongol Tingri [luk Dere, Gadzar, Koibalic Num Dshu, Dzhu Shiroi Motoric Orgochairachan, Dsha, Dzha Burattish Tingeri Gazar Num Calmuck Octorgoi Gasar, Ertjajaze 38. JeniseiostiTagurian Tengri Kaaziar ak 28. MantshuAbka, Na ArinicAppia Oes Peng Sagalien [ric Hurara Ki? Kotovic Eish, Eish pa rang Pang {Day, Jangsey) Assanic Oesh Pang Corean Hanel, Tshen Inbatshic Es 1 Bang, Bach 29. Tungusic Negdau, Nian, Endra, Dunda, Lumpokolic J. Etsh Bing Dshiulbka Tor 39. Jukadshi- Dsjunga, Zjugo, Leviangh, LewNertshinic Tingeri, Nengne, Turu RIC Kundshu jie Jeniseic T. Nengne [Nai Dunda 40. Koriac Kh’igan, Cherwol, Nutoliit, NutMangazeicT. Nangna Tukala Chaiin, Eiaan, elchan Barguzin- Nengna Dunne Jan skic Kolymic Chain Angarian Nengne Tukalagda Tigilic K. Kiisha Nu tel chan Jakutic T. Nengne, Nenone Dundra Karaginic Shilchen Niutiniut Ochotskic Nan Tor Keh’quin, Chervol, Nultenut, Nunii Tshutshic Lamutic Nana Tuor Chiternik, KilTshapogiric Negie Dunda lak,Ging, Keilak

LANGUAGES. Languages.

Heaven, Sky. Earth. Nouba, B. Sema {Day, Aly) Gourka (Greenland Bishareen, B. Otryk {Day, Toy) and EskiAdareb, Salt (Day, Ombe) lobut maux) Argueba (Father, Anathien; Head, DimSiramt, Nula 41. Kamtshat-Kochan, Hai Massowah (2, Killot; 3, Szalis) [maha) KAN Arkeeko, Salt Astur {Sky), (Day, Midur Tigilic K. Keis Ummet) Semtiishinata Srednish Kochal, Kollaa (2, Kille; 3. Selass) Summit Jozhnyshic Kogal Tebre Wuhash SUAKIN Aroan Baru Shiho, Salt v. Insular Order. (Man, Grua ; Water, Ane) Takue, Salt (Man, Ookooi; Water, Umba) Kotan Barea, Salt Niss 42. Curilee ( ©, Le*t chachi, Lehachi Tshekak Mutshuana, Inkak 43. Eastern ]) , Werri) See Beetjuana Salt Islands (1. Oonchela, 3. Taroo, Miraroo) Briqua, Salt TsatsmOj Cino, 44. Japanese Ten Shangalla, Salt „T _ . , Ci, Tji, Dsi Darmitchequa Goza, Sky ( ©> Wo- Enniali 45. Leu Cheu Dianni Zudshi . ka; D , Beja) 46. Formosan Vullum, Tounnoun Nay, Nai Quegab, Sky (©, Hugga Tacazze 47. Philippine Wah; D , Terah) Moluccan Languin, Surga Buc.ut, Dunga (©,E-zoo-ah; D, E-la-poo Makooa, Salt Magindanao Liingit Lopa Mare) Lupa, Tana Langit Tagalish (©, D”y00va; D , Mooze Yuta Monjou, Salt Langit Bissayish Mooeize) Sulu [” a catch or click] (Day, Aso; Sun, Tana Bugis Sowauli, Salt (l, Chemb-je ; 3 Ma-da-too) Mataso) Somauli, Salt (©, Ghur-rah ; D , Tai-ya; 1. (Day, Alo ; Sun, Butta Mungharar K’ow; 3, Sud-de) Matalo) Semme (©, Eer; J) , Di-che Hurrur, Salt Yangley (Day, Kokuhk ; Bad, MoPelew Werke; 1, Ahad) [gull) Tano Mariana Languit Ivaq ( ©, Ad-da; 5 , Laf-fa, S. Galla Friendly Isl. Elandshi (Food, Tuguta Dje-a, Ba-te, S.) Maa) ( ©, Airo ; D , Al- Ba-ro Adaiel, Salt Kill® Coco Islands (Food, Maa) Vorai. Rai Savu Liruh Labuad Danakil, Salt Am-boo re, Sky Arde, Barroo Pampang Taar. Behoul Dungolish Szemma(©, Ayero; Arikha New Guinea Bar , Al-sa, Berra) Nabagr ? New Britain Bornou, Burck-Perg, Tsedy Dana (Sun, Matahro) Bima hardt (Sun, Matahari) Bumi Sumbavca Poapoa, Popo Borgo, Burck- Sema (Day, Deal- Lerr 48. New Hol- j^ere hardt ka) ,00 land, E. Dareur Szemma(©, Dule ; Suru, Szura (Father, Bina) 49. Van DieXi , Doal, Salt) men’s Land Gyiahse. Do ( Amharic) Salt (©, Tsai; D , Ick- Midei 50. New Gale Ndaoe erka) donian (©, Tsai; D , Midre (Tigre) Salt (Bread, Eei; Bad, Uenua 51. New ZeaWerke) Kino) land ( ©, Quo-rah ; 5 , Er-wah) Ziv-va Agow, Salt Erai {Food, Maa ; Hwennua Otaheite (King, Negumani; Song, Mossa^ Tsheraz A. Bad, Ino) gan) Marquesas Tahua, Hani Hwenua (King, Negus ; Song, Mazena) Damot A. Sandwich Isl. Harani (Bad, Ino) Motu (King, Negus ; Song, Aedje) Gafat 52. Easter Isl. (Faster, Mama) Soupe, Henua (© Kuara; Song, Baze) Falasha (1, Deja; 3, Oku) Soudan IV. AFRICAN CLASS. (1, Kidde; 3, Metta) Begirma Hyalla Lehidy Egyptian Fulah Kahi Szemma Lissedi Coptic, Mem~ I’he Phellata Assaman SoufFe phitic Yalofs Kahe, Kah Ginna, Tigot, Igna Doonit, Akal Sahidic, The- Pe Berber (©, Tafogt) baic Bashmuric Titogan, Ataman (King, Monsey) Canary Kehi Oasitic Pe (1, Trono; 3, Aguesso) Tibbo Iskitta Berr Barabrish Szemma Shilluh Aryd (©, Atfuet) Kensy, Burck- Semeyg (Day, hardt Ougresk) Gg VOL. V- PART II. Heaven, Sky.

Earth. Nuna

228 Languages.

LANGUAGE S. Heaven, Sky. Earth. Heaven, Sky. Earth. Languages. Sivah (©, Itfuet) Hottentots Inga? Ki, Kdo,Qu’au Sereres Rogue Lanceli Gamkamma Serrawallis (l, Bani; 3, Sicco) Coranas (l, T’”koey) TJ’kehaub Mandingo Santo Banko, Binku Saldanha Bay I lomma Hu Yallonka Margetangala (1, Kidding) Bosjemans T'gachuch T”kanguh Sokko Bandee (1, Kiille) Felups (1, Enory; 3, Sisajee) (The Hottentots have three particular clicking Timmaney, (1, Pin; 3, Pisaas) sounds, made by withdrawing the tongue from the Winterb. teeth, the fore part, and the back part of the palate : Bullam Foy (I, Bui, Nimthey are respectively denoted by T’, T”, and T'” ; bul; 3, Rah, Ninthe two first appear to resemble the sounds someraa, Wint.) CJpock, Leh times used to express a trifling vexation, and to Susu Araiani Bohhe make a horse go on, or to call to poultry.) Fetu Araiani Aradde Kanga Nesua (1, Aniandu) V. AMERICAN CLASS. Mangree Tata (Head, Tri) Gief Lam (1, Do) i. South American. Quoja (King, Dondag ; Head, Hunde) Heaven, Sky. Earth. Fante Niame Assasse A. Akripon Aduankam (l,Ehoo) 1. ierra del Fuego (A Penguin, Compogure) Amina Jankombum (1, Akkun) 2. Patagonia, Chili Akkim Jahinne (Head, Metih) Molucban.Araukan Huenu, (0, Tue mapu Akra Ngoi, Jankombum ? Sipong Antu ; Hill, Tambi Giom (Father, Tshiah ; Head, li) Calul) Whydah (1, De ; 3, Otton) Tehuelhet (Hill, Calille) Papua Jiwel (1, Depoo) Puelche (Hill, Casu) Watje (1, De ; 3, Etong) B. E. from R. Plata to Calbra (l. Bar re ; 3, Terre) Maranon Camacons (1, Mo ; 3, Melella) 3. Charrua C.LoboGon- (King, Sauepongo; Bad, Mon4. Yaro salvas dello) 5. Bohane Loango Iru (1, Boosse ; 3, Tattu) 6. Ghana Congo Sullo Toto 7. Minuane Angola Maulu, Beulu Boxi, Toto ? 8. Guenoa Mandongo Sambiampungo (1, Omma ; 3, Me9. Karigua Camba Julo (1, Moski) jjatu) 10. Guarany Ibag, (©, Cuarazi) Ibi Angola, Monte Aamano South Hervas West Karabari Elukwee (1, Otub) North. Tupi, Brasil Ibaca Ibi Ibo Tshukko, Ellu (1, Otuh) C. E. of Paraguay Mokko Ibanju (1, Kia) ] 1. Brasilian dialects Wawu Barriadad (1, Baba) Common (0, Arassu; 1, Gipi; 3, Tembu So (l, Kuddum) Busapu; 4, Busapu muKrepeer (Bread, Apohae ; Head, Ota) nan gipi; 6, Busapu sapu Assianthes (Bread, Abode ; Head, Otri) Arndt.) KASSENTI Ktak (1, Obaa) Kiriri Arakie Bu (Bornu) ? Curumare (God, Aunim) Rada Affadeh Dilko Ftiing Forty-nine others unknown. Mobba Szemma Barr D. W. of Paraguay Shilluh (1, Warre ; 3, Koddus) 12. Aquiteguedichaga (Darfur) 13. Guato Darrunga (1, Kadenda; 3, Attih) 14. Ninaquiguila (Gallas) 15. Guana Shaggai (Soldier, Gonso) 16. Mbaya, Guaikur Titipi guime Jego Madagascar Danghitsi, Langhitsi Tane, Tanne, 17. Payagua Lainch, Atemco Zanne 18. Lenguas Lagoa Bay (1, Chingea ; 3, Trirarou) 19> Enimaga Koossa Isuhla Umtsilaha 20. Gulentuse Beetjuanas Maaro Lehaatsi 21. Yacurure Mutshuana (1, Oonchela; 3. Lebochi 22. Machikuy Taroo, Miraroo) 23. Mataguaya South (1, Enje ; 3, Atatu, Zintate) 24. Malhalae Caffres 25. Pitilaga 11

LANGUAGE S. Languages.

Heaven, Sky. Earth. Piguetn Alua Ipigem Aaloa, Aaloba Ipiguem Aloba

ii. Middle American. Heaven, Sky.

229 Languages.

Earth. • Inlands 1. St Domingo {Field, Conuco ; Meadotv, ii'dvana; House, Boa; Bread, Casabi) B. Darien to GuaLaue Basle timala Zo {God, Ano) Araa, A. 2. Kiche, Utlateca Hanacpacha; Caypacha, Cay. 3. Poconchic Taxah (0, Quih; Acal, Vleu Hanac ? (© Inti) [Allpa Head, Na ; Hand, Cam; 34‘. Avmara Alapacha, Alai Acaphan, Aca ? Bad, Tseri) 35. Puquina Hanigo Cohua [Urakke 4. Yucatan, Ma- (©, Kin; Hand, Luam 36. Yunka Mo- Anguic Capuc chika ya, Caanne Cab) C. Table Land of F. East of Peru . . .T Samuca Guiate rJup Mexico _ _ 5. Mixtecan Andihui, Andi Nuuhaihuv 38. Chiquitos Ape Aaqui, Quiis Nunai 3Q. Moxos Anamocu Kiere, Motem 6. Totonacan Tiayan, Acapon, Nitiet ? 40. Mobimi Benrra Yanlo, Llacamba Acapaian (l, 41. Cayubabi Idah Tdatu Tom; 3, Toto) 42. Itonami Numane ? Nicosnone i 7. Mexican, Az- Ilbuicatl(0,To- Tlalli 43. Sapiboconi Euocuepana Mecbi tekan natiuh; 1, Ce ; 44. Heresibocana 3, Yei) 45. Canesiana 8. Huastecan Tiaeb (©, Aqui- Izabal 46. Pana eba; Head, Na) 47* Rema 9. Othomi Mahetzi Chimoh6i,Hoy 48. Pira 10. Mechoacan G. East of Quito, 11. Pirindan Pininte on the Maranon 12. Tarascan Avandaro (l , Ma; 3, lanuno) 49. Aquanos, Xeberos D. California toRi del Norte . 50. Mainas Inapa 4sse 13. Coran Tahapoa Chuehti 51. Yameos Arresiuma Popo 14. Tepehuana, 52. Omagua, Yu- Ehuateraai Tuyuca rumagua Topia . . 15. Tubar Tegmecarichui Numguatae 53. Yahua; 100 more 16. Tai'ahumaran Guami ? [Bad, Gue Tseti; Dog, CoH. From R. Negro cotshi) to Oronoco . 17. Zuaquan, Ya- Tevecape Buyapo 54. Maipuri Eno Peru 55. Salivi Mume Ada. Seke. < _ 18?Pima Titauacatum ? (/, Inatuburch ? 56. Guaivi, Ciricoa Ani; 1, Mato ; 58. Achagua 3, Waik) I. About Casanare 19. Eudeve Tevictze ? Yuhtepatz; 58. Yarura Ande Dabu 59. Betoi Ubu, Tentucu Umena ? Ajao i 20. Opata Tequiaca? Terepa? 60. Situfa, Girari Dafibu 61. Ottomak Caga 1 oga iii. North American. 62. Guama, Guanen A. N.W. of New K. North Coast Cap Mexico Nono 63. Tamanac 1. Jetan, Apache Aijumiin, KasWunabu 64. Arawac 2. Keres, Moqui sakku B. About California 65. Carib 3. Pericu Monba Oubecou Yaoi 4. Waicuric Tekericadatemba Datemba Soye Capou Islands 0,lbo,lbunga; Nonum L. Mountains in f Men }) , Gomma, Monha the N. W. \ Women Ganehma) (O' s'ua; Man, Muysca) 66. Muysca 5. Cochimi, Lay- Ambayujui, Am- Keammete, 67. Kiminzac being Araet, Amemon 68. Popaya tetenang (Q Nie; Cupego : 3, Pauquab) 69. Darien

26. Toba 27. Abipon 28. Mocoby 29. Aguilot 80. Chumipy 31. Vilela 32. Lule E. Coast of Peru 33. Quichua

230 Languages.

LANGUAGES. Earth. C* N. of California 31. Natshes 6. St Barbara (Head, Nucchu; 1, Paca; 3, 32. Muskohge, Mapja) Creek Heaven, Sky.

7. Eslene 8. Runsien

Imita (©, Tomanisashi; 1, Pek; 3, Julep) Terray (©, Orpetuei istmen ; 1, Enjala; 3, Kappes) (1, Moukola; 3, Capes) (1, Pak : 3, Ullef)

9. Achastlien 10. Ecclemach D. About Nootka 11. Nootka Sound Nas, Inaihl nas (0, Opulsthl; 1, Tsawak ; 3, Catsa) 12. Atnah (Water, Shaweliquoih ; Head, Scapacay) 13. Friendly Vil- (Water, Ulkan; Fire, Neach) lage 14. Queen Char- (Fire, Tesh; 1. Sounchou; 3, lotto’s Isl. Sloonis) 15. Colushan Ki, Keu, Kiivva, Tljaknak, TlatKitani, Kiigon, ka, Tlekw, Chaaz Tka, Shii, Tlinkitaannii (Stone, Te ; Mex. Tetl) 16. Ugaljachmuzi Koas (Throat, Katkatl; Mex. Cocotl. “ Boil, Coatk; Mex. Coxitia”) 17. Tshinkitany (©, Krane ; 1. Clerg, Kaike; 3. Notshk, Netx) 18. Kinaizi Jujan, Juon, Jugan An, Altnen, Alslen E. W. of Mississippi 19. Blackfooted (1, Tokes-cum; 3, NohokesIndian cum) Blood Indian, Began 20. Tall Indian (1, Karci; 3, Narce; 4, Nean) 21. Sussee (1, Ut-te-gar; 3, Taukey; 4, Tobo) 22. Snake I. 23. Nadowessian Uohta tibi (©, Paeta; j , Oweeh) Assinopoetuc (Dog; Shong; 4, Tope) Sioux 24. Saki,Ottogami Menomene 25. Osage ( Wind, Tattasuggy; [Brothers, Tinaitauna?]) Winnibeg, Maha Missouri, Oto Arlcansa, Kanze 26. Pani 27. Caddo, Natshitotshe 28. Adaize, Attahapa F. W. of Mississippi, to Ohio 29- Floridan,Apa- (Agreeable; Hitanachi; Priests; lache Jaoiia) 30. T imuacan (My> Na; Elder Brother, Niha; 1, Minecotamano ; 3, Nahapumtma)

33. Chikkasaw, Choktaw 34. Cherokee 35. Woccon 36. Katahba 37. Six Nations

Mohawk Seneka Onondago Oneida Cayuga Tuscarora

Heaven, Sky. Earth. Languages. (0, Oua chill) (0,Hashseh, Hu- Ecaunnauh sa; 1, Hommai, 3. Tootshena) (©, Hashe, Has- Yahkane ce ; 1, Chephpha ; 3, Tootshena) (©, Eusse, Anantoge calesta; Fire, Cheela ; 1, Saquo) (©> D > Witapare; Water, Eau; 1, Tonne; 3, Nammce) (©> ]) . Nooteeh ; Water, Ejau) Karongiage, Cau- Oo-hon-cha, rounkyawga, Owhoncheat, Kaaronhiate, Ahunga, Toendi Ohunjea, Uchwuntskia, Ondeehra (Fire, Ocheelch) (Dog, Chierha) ( ]) , Hatshe-nyahah ; Water, Auweau ; Dog, Cheeth)

G. W. of Hudson’s Bay, and S. W. 38. Chippeway of (Tooth, Tibbit, Wibit; 3, TagOel. bee ; 4, Neon, Nea) 39. Delaware (Tooth, Weepeet) 40. Algonkin Mo- (Tooth, Tibit; 4, Neou) began 41. Shawanno Spimiki (TooM, Assiskie Pampticough Nepittalleh) 42. Miami,Illinois Kechekoue (0, Akihkeoue }) , Kilswoa; Too^, Neepeetah) 43. Kikkapoo (0, )) , Kishessu) 44. Piankashaw 45. Pottawatameh (Tooth, Webit) 46. Delaware Acoossagame Achquidhack(Tooth, Weepeet) amicke, Agi, Hogkey 47. Minsi (Tooth, Wichpit) 48. Sankikani ( Tooth, Wypyt) 49. New Sweden “ Hocque” (Flesh, Jos) [Hocque 50. Narraganset Keesuck (3, Nish) Aucke Natik Kesuk (3, Nish- Ohke nob) 51. New England (Tooth, Mepeteis ; 3, Nis) 52. Abenagui 53. Mohegan Spummuck Hacki, Nohn(Tooth, Weepee- key tan) 54. Penobscot (Tooth, Weebeetah) 55. Souriquois Ouajek (0, Kis- Megamingo sis ; Tooth, Nebidie) 56. Micmic Oaiok 57. E. Chippeway Speminkakuin Aukuin 58. Messisauger (0, Keesboo) Nindohockee 59. N. Algonkin Spiminkakuin Ackouin.Acke 12

LANGUAGES. Languages.

23 i _ Languages. ,which

Heaven, Sky. Earth. (n. 202), nor is the character for light (0, Pisim ; Messe asky Head, Us-ti-quoin ; 4, Neway) seems intended to represent a radiant body, altoge(4, Naou) 61. Nehetawa (Head, Mestichee) 62. Skoffie ther different from the (°'\ or t so often found (Head, Teekechee) 63. Mountanee 64. W. Chepewy- (©,})> Sah; Head, Ed-thie) among the hieroglyphics of Egypt, although it is not an Mack. easy to believe, with Mr Palin, that the manuscripts (Head, Thie) 65. Nagail found with the mummies agree precisely with a Chi66. Hudson’s Bay (Head, Tenet thie) nese version of the Psalms of David, character for chaIslands racter. The successive introduction of figurative exH. North Coasts pressions and characters may easily be imagined, but it 67. Greenland Killang, Killak Nona would be useless to enter at present into further de(0, Ajut, Seckanach; )) , An* tailsof this kind on grounds almostentirely speculative. ningat; 1, Attausek; 3, Pin- The Chinese are said to have been, in the ninth cengasut) tury, a race of people resembling the Arabs ; their 68. Eskimaux Taktuck, Nabugakshe (©, Suk- physiognomy was contaminated, in the thirteenth kinuch ; J) , Tatcock) and fourteenth, by a mixture with their conquerors, Nun 69. Tshugassic Koilak . f, . , the Mongols; but their language remained unalter70. Norton Sound (Hand, Aishet; 1, Adowjack; ed. The dialect of Tonkin is sometimes called the 3, Pingashook) language of Anam, and the Guan; on occasions of (71.) Tshuktshe Ke’ilak Nuna state they use the Chinese character, but more com71. Jakutat Kilag Nuna monly a character of their own, probably resembling 72. Konage, Kad-Killach (Hand, Nuna that of the Siamese. Dr Leyden observes, that at jak, I. or Kikhtak Aiget; \, Alchallack ; 3, Pin- least twenty different nations employ the Chinese gaic) characters, though they read them quite differently ; and he considers the Cochinchinese, the Cantonese, These tables will at least serve, notwithstanding and the Japanese, as all essentially different from the some imperfections and uncertainties, as a convenient Mandarin Chinese, though they have all some words synopsis for facilitating the reference to a brief sketch in common. He gives us, as the names of the diaof the history of the different families of languages^ lects of Chinese, constituting almost as many separate languages, 1, Kong, spoken at Canton ; 2, Way; 1. The strongest proof of the great antiquity of 3, Ndm ; 4, Chew; 5, Sew; 6, LiH ; 7, Limm ; 8, the Chinese language appears to be the great sim- Khum, or Mandarin; 9, Siu; 10, Kunng ; 11, Hyplicity of its structure, and the want of those abbre- ong san, spoken at Macao ; 12, San tahfc; 13, Nam viations and conventional implications which have kei ; 14, Pun ngi ; 15, Tong khun ; 16, To khun ; been sometimes called the wings ot languages. It is or Chinchow. There is also a language spoken by the natural that, in attempting to express ideas at once Quan to, between Tonkin and China, a people who by characters, the rude pictures of material objects consider themselves as more ancient than their neighshould first have been principally, if not exclusively bours. Notwithstanding, however, all this supposed traced; thus the Egyptians had 0, ]) for the szm diversity, we may trace a considerable resemblance and moon, and © for a country or field, and the in the spoken language, even as far as Corea. In all these dialects, the conversation is a sort of recitative, and the different notes give distinct meanings to Chinese have still E,tp,© for these objects the words; as, in fact, we distinguish in English the sense of M ? from M ! or simply M.; tones perfectly respectively, the characters having been made square understood, though never written. The Chinese are instead of round, which some of them were in their without the sound of the letter r, and several other more ancient forms. The Egyptians represented a sounds common in Europe; the only way in which man by a figure kneeling, and stretching out his hand, they express foreign words is, by putting together or in the enchorial character, thus V- (See the ar- the characters of the nearest import, with a symbol of pronunciation annexed to them; thus, for Christas ;icle Egypt, PI. LXXV. n. 73.) The Chinese figure and Cardinalis they are obliged to write Ki lu su tu nay originally have been of the same form, but at pre- su and Kia ul fi na li su, with a mouth annexed to them. The names of places are generally distinsent is more like a pair of legs only, while a guished by a square inclosing the characters which express them, and the names of men, in some books, or log seems to have three or four legs; X' by a line drawn on one side of the characters only. In this there seems to be a distant analogy to the A thousand, according to Mr Jomard’s ingenious con- ring which incloses proper names in the Egyptian ecture, was copied from the lotus, with its seed vessel, inscriptions, but the names of places were not dislaving a great multitude of seeds, and the Chinese tinguished in this manner by the Egyptians. The dialects of Cambodia and Laos have received is certainly not altogether unlike the Egyptian some mixture of Malayan from their neighbours; 60. Knistenaux

$32 LANGUAGES. Languages. jn writing the former of these, sometimes called culiar characters, but some of which may, without Languages, ' K’hohmen, according to Dr Leyden, the Bali, or old impropriety, be introduced here. Earth. Sanscrit character, is employed; and the latter has some analogy with the Siamese; indeed, both the Myammaiv, in (Head, Kaung •, Wind, Myacgee Siamese and the Avanese are disposed to derive Burma Lae) themselves from Laos. It may be seen, from the Yakain, in A- ( Wind, Lee) specimens exhibited in the article Philology of the rakan Encyclopcedia, b. 125, that at least some of the ChiTanaynthoree nese dialects have sounds agreeing in several inYo (Stone, Kionkag) stances with European words of the same import; Moitag, near (Head, Kop,Kok; ©, Leipauk but the agreement is scarcely precise enough to jusAssam Noomeet) tify our inferring from it an original connexion beKoloun, or (Head, Multoo ; 0, Dag tween the languages. Kiayn Konee) 2. The language of Siam resembles the Chinese Kurayn or Kaloon in its simplicity and metaphorical structure, though Passooko (Head, Kozohui; ©, Katchaykoo not so decidedly monosyllabic. It is obvious, howMoomag) ever, that the distinction of monosyllabic and poly- Maploo (.Heat/, Kohuin;©, Moo) Kolanghoo syllabic could not, in very ancient times, have been Play (Head, Kohui, Pokochui Kako, Lauso positively laid down as at present, since it was ©, Mooi, Moomag) koo usual, in almost all countries, to write the words con- Hindu of Burma tiguous to each other, in a continued series, without Pooinga (Head, Mata; ©, Bel) Kool any divisions between them ; and, even in modern T/ossaw/z, Ara-(Heat/, Mustek; ©, Murtiha printing, there is a happy invention, which often rekan Sooja) stores this agreeable obscurity, under the name of a Banga, or Ay-(Head, Yeekgo \ ©, Matee hyphen, by the use of which we avoid the difficulty of hoba Bayllee) determining whether we wish to employ one word or 4. The language of Tibet, or the Tangutish, has several. The Siamese-call themselves T'hay; and a part of their country is distinguished by the appel- some words in common with the Chinese, but is less lation Tai hai, or Great T’hay. The numerals re- simple in its structure. It is at least as ancient as semble the Mandarin Chinese; several words of the the religion of the country, which is nearly coeval language are borrowed from the Bali; it is written with Christianity. Its character is well known to be in an alphabetical character, which is said to be com- alphabetical, from the title of the learned work of Father Georgi on the subject. plicated and refined. 5. The Indoenropean languages have been referred 3. The Avanese or Burmanish has also borrowed some polysyllabic words from the Bali, and is writ- to a single class, because every one of them has too ten in a peculiar alphabetical character. It must be great a number of coincidences with some of the considered as an era in the history of this country others, to be considered as merely accidental, and that its Emperor has employed Mr Felix Carey, at many of them in terms relating to objects of such a his own expense, to establish a printing press at nature, that they must necessarily have been, in both Ava, his metropolis, for printing a translation of the of the languages compared, rather original than Scriptures in Burmanish. A dialect, spoken in the adoptive. The Sanscrit, which is confessedly the district called Tanengrari, is said to be of greater parent language of India, may easily be shown to be antiquity. The Mon or Peguan is called by Dr intimately connected with the Greek, the Latin, Leyden a distinct original language; but it is writ- and the German, although it is a great exaggeraten in the Avanese character, and Adelung’s speci- tion to assert any thing like its complete identity men scarcely differs at all from the Burmanish. The with either of these languages. Thus we find, withlanguage of Arakan and Rashaan is called RuJcJieng; in the compass of the Lord’s Prayer only, Pida, Piit contains a number of words from the Bali, many tir, among the Sanscrit terms for Father, Gr. Pater; of them converted into monosyllables by an imper- Hama, or Namadheya for Name, Gr. Onoma, Onofect pronunciation. Dr Leyden considers it as the maii ; Radshiam, Kingdom, Lat. Regnum from Rego ; connecting link between the monosyllabic and the Manasam, Will, like the Greek Meniio, and the Lapolysyllabic languages, and he calls it an original tin Mens; Stira, Earth, Gr. Era, whence perhaps language, notwithstanding its acknowledged deriva- the Latin Terra; and Danim, or Devanagri Dia, tion from its neighbours. It employs the Devana- Day, Lat. Dies. There are also some singular regri alphabet, including the letter n. Out of 50 semblances of declension and conjugation between words of Rukheng, quoted by Buchanan, the seven the Sanscrit and the Greek, as Dodami, Dodasti, which are not Burman are only varieties of pronun- Dodati; in old Greek Didomi, Didosi, Didoti. In a ciation. The Kiayn or Kolun, and the Kukis, north- tablet of the date 23 B. C. we find Kritico for a east of Chatigong, are mentioned as neighbouring Judge, Gr. Crites, Criticos. In Mr Townsend’s tribes, speaking languages almost entirely different work we also find some well selected instances of from the Rukheng. We find, in Mr Buchanan’s resemblance between the Sanscrit and other lanpaper, some specimens of the languages of the guages ; thus Bhru, is Brow; Pota, a Boat ; Bad, Burma empire, which it is difficult to distribute me- a Bath; Germ. Bad; Dhara, Terra; Nava, Nothodically, without a further knowledge of their pe- vas; Nakta, Node, Night; Pad, Foot, Patte;

LANGUAGES. Languages. Pratharna or Protoma, first, whence we may deduce both the Greek protos, and the Latin primus; and Upadesaca, Didasco, Doceo, and Disco. We have also Vayajan, wind, in Russian Vieyanie ; and Vidhava, widow, Latin, Vidua, German, JVittwe, Russian, Vdova. The nt of the plural verb is found in the Sanscrit Bhavanti, they are, Dadanti, they give. Sir William Jones and many others have attributed to some of the works, which are still extant in Sans^ crit, an antiquity of four or five thousand years ; but Professor Adelung denies the validity of any of the arguments, which have been adduced, in favour of a date at all approaching to this. The Sanscrit, even in its earliest state, can scarcely have been altogether uniform throughout all the countries in which it w’as spoken, and it has degenerated by degrees into a great diversity of modern dialects : the term signifies learned, or polished. Beyond the Ganges, it is called Bali or Magudha, which the missionaries say “ scarcely” differs from Sanscrit; the term Magudha is said to mean mixed or irregular. In Siam the Sanscrit is still the language of elegant literature; and it is often employed throughout India, with some little difference of construction, under the name of Devanagara, the divine language. The Prakrit is rather a vague term, meaning, according to Mr Colebrooke, common or vulgar, but it is also applied to the language of the sacred books of the “ Jainas.’’ We find in a little publication, entitled, a Brief View of the Baptist Missions and Translations, some useful information respecting the Indian languages and dialects, into a great number of which these laborious and disinterested persons have made or procured translations of the whole of the Scriptures, which they have printed at Serampore near Calcutta. The dialects, which they enumerate, are principally arranged in a geographical order; and beginning with those which are spoken towards the middle of India, as the pure Sanscrit and its least modified dialects, we may place next to them the languages of the countries bordering on the monosyllabic nations, towards the North and East; we have here the dialects of Nepal, Assam, or Uhumiya, Tiperah, and Kassai, of which little more is known than that translations into the first two have been already executed: the Bengalee is spoken in and about Calcutta: the Hindee or Hinduvee is spoken about Agra; it is printed in the Devanagri character, the font of which contains more than 800 varieties of letters and their combinations ; the Urdu or Oordoo is a subdialect of the Hindee, as well as the Brijbassa, which is nearer to the Sanscrit than some other dialects: the Jypura is mentioned as another language, belonging to the same neighbourhood: the Hindustanee is spoken in Hindustan Proper, or Lower Hindustan ; the missionaries say it is “ diametrically different” from the Hindee: the Moors or “ Mongol Indostanish” seems to belong to this country, being mixed with a good deal of Persian and Arabic, unless it be rather referable to the Hindee: the dialects of Udaipura, Benares, ar\d Munipura, are also called separate languages: the Goandee is spoken at Nagpore, in the Mahratta country: further east is Orissa or Uriya, the language of which is printed in a character requiring

233

300 different types: the Telug or Warug is spoken Languages, about Cuddalore and Madras : the Telinga further west: the Carnatic has a peculiar language, besides the Tamul, which is spoken from Paleacate, near Madras, to Cape Comorin, and the Marwa, which appears to belong to a part of this country. About Cochin in Travancore we have the Maleiam: further north the languages of Malabar, Kanara, and of the Decan ; the dialect of Malabar is of considerable antiquity, being found in two copper tablets as old as the eighth or ninth century; then comes the Kunkuna, about Bombay: the Mahratta is further inland : the Guzurat on the coast: and beyond the Indus the Beloshee in Belochistan : north of this we find the Afghan or Pushtu language, which contains more Hebrew words than any of its neighbours; the people are said to have come from the north, about 2000 years ago, and, according to a Persian tradition, to be descended from King Saul: indeed, the language stands somewhat more correctly under the Median family in the Mithridates, but since it forms the connecting link between the two families, it might perhaps be as conveniently arranged among the more numerous species of the Sanscrit; it is written in the Arabic character, with some additional letters for expressing the Sanscrit sounds. The language of Multan, north of Sindh, has about one tenth of Persian mixed with it. The Gipsies were certainly expelled from some part of India by tne cruelties of Timur Leng, about 1400; and they were probably some of the Zingans, in the neighbourhood of Multan; their language having a great number of coincidences with that of Multan, and being still more manifestly a dialect of the Sanscrit, although they have adopted many European, and especially Sclavonian words. When they first appeared in Europe, they were supposed to amount to about half a million ; at present they are less numerous. The Maldivian is peculiar to the group of small islands from which it is named; the Baptists have already printed some books in it. The people are said greatly to resemble those of Ceylon. The Cingalese, which is spoken in great part of Ceylon, is a mixture of several of the continental dialects ; and it has been observed that the proper names in Ceylon mentioned by Ptolemy are of Sanscrit origin. Dr Leyden gives as a proof of the antiquity of the Malayan, that the Temala of Ptolemy is derived from Tema, tin. The connexion of this language with the Sanscrit has not been very universally admitted ; and some of those who have studied it most are disposed to consider it as wholly original; but in the purest part of the language, Dr Leyden confesses that there is a considerable resemblance to the Avanese and the Siamese; the words derived from the Sanscrit he considers as somewhat less numerous, amounting however to about 5000; they are generally less like the Bali than the Sanscrit; and a still smaller number are borrowed from the Arabic. The character of the monosyllabic languages is in some measure retained. Sir William Jones considered the Malayan as a derivative of the Sanscrit; Mr Marsden supposes it to have received its Sanscrit words through Guzurat; Dr Leyden rather from Ka-

LANGUAGES. 234 Languages, linga or Telinga; and it exhibits some traces of printed from blocks, and from the moveable metal Languages, v—^ '"'w the dialects of Tamul and Maleialam. Besides these types which have been cast at Serampore. 6. The connexion of the Median family with the various sources, it is said to have borrowed some of its simplest words from the Javanese and the Bugis ; Sanscrit on one side, and with the Greek and Gerand it has become more nearly monosyllabic by man on the other, is sufficiently proved by the words dropping the first syllables of some of the words Abitap, Zend. Sun, Sanscr. Abitaba; Dar, Ter, which it has adopted. The Javanese is said to be Pers. Door, Sanscr. Dura, Tuxvara, Javanese, Turi, more ancient than the Malayan; the empire of Java Gr. Th'ura, Germ. Thur, Thor; Dip, Pers. Land was formerly powerful and flourishing: the ancient or Island, Sanscr. Dihjt; Dochtar, Pers. Pothre language was much like the Sanscrit, more so than Zend. Daughter, Gr. Thugater, Germ. Tochter, the Malayan, but was written in a peculiar character. Sanscr. Putri; Jare, Zend. Year, Sanscr. Jahran, Dialects of this language are still spoken in Bali and Gena. Jahr; and Ishk, Zend. Love, Sanscr. Itsha. in Madura. Leyden thinks the Malays were derived To this list we may add, from Dr Leyden, Stree, from Java; Marsden rather from Sumatra: though Zend. Woman, Sanscr. Stri; Aste, Zend. He is, he allows that there are some reasons for conjectur- Sanscr. Asti, Gr. Esti; Hapte, Zend. Seven, Sanscr. ing that an old Sanscrit colony may have settled Saptah, Gr. Hepta. There are also some coincimany hundred years ago in Java, and mixed its lan- dences with the Chaldee, but the Median is certainly guage with a supposed mother tongue of that Asi- not a dialect of the Chaldee. Sir W. Jones and atic race. others have said that the Zendish was nearest to the Of the Sumatran dialects, the principal, according Sanscrit, and the Pehlvi to the Chaldee or Arabic. to Dr Leyden, is the Batta, spoken by a people In ancient Media, the Zendish was the language of who occupy the centre of the island, and who still, the northern, and Pehlvi, or Parthian, of the southlike some other Indian nations, retain the custom of ern parts; the word Pehlvi or Pahalevi is supposed eating their old relations. The language seems to by Leyden to have been nearly synonymous with be partly original, and partly connected with the Pali or Bali, though this is said to be derived from Malayan, and other dialects of the neighbouring Bahlika, an Indoeuropean country. The Zendish islands. The Rejang is chiefly a mixture of Batta was more particularly appropriated to religious purand Malayan; in the Lampuhn or Lampung, there poses, and the Pehlvi had in a great measure superis also some Javanese. The Achi has admitted a seded it for common use at a very early period ; still further influx of words belonging to all the Mus- under the Sassanides again, from the third to the sulman jargons of the neighbourhood, especially to seventh century, the use of the Pehlvi was discouthat of the Mapulas of Malabar. There are other raged, and the old Persian substituted for it. It is dialects of less note in Neas and the Foggy Islands, said, however, that in the remote parts of the counmost resembling the Batta. This language is pro- try, about Shirwan, some traces of the Pehlvi may vided with a peculiar alphabet, which is remarkable still be found in existence. The Zendavesta of Zofor being written from the bottom of the paper up- roaster, which is still extant in Zendish, is supposed wards, like the Mexican hieroglyphics: though the to have been written 520 years B. C.; and Adelung Battas, as well as the Chinese, sometimes hold their follows Anquetil in asserting its authenticity, even books so as to read horizontally. In Borneo there in opposition to the opinion of Jones and Richardappear to be several dialects, or rather separate lan- son. These languages have little or no connexion guages, two of them, according to Dr Leyden, are with the Georgian and Armenian, which have sucthe Biaju and the Tisun. The Andaman language ceeded them in some of the same countries. The is inserted here for want of a better place only; it old Persian, which seems to be much connected does not appear to have any connexion with the with the Pehlvi, has remained in use either as a Sanscrit, and may possibly be found to be more like living or as a learned language ever since the time that of Madagascar: the people seem to belong to of the Sassanides; it was current among the Perthe Papuas, a distinct original race, according to sians when they were conquered by the Arabs in Dr Le\rden, black, and with woolly hair. the seventh century; and it is the language of the Besides the numerous translations into languages Shah Nameh of Firdusi, written in the tenth cenof the Indoeuropean class, the Baptist Missionaries tury, as well as of the Ayeen Akbery, of which the have also-printed some Armenian and Persian works date is about 1600. The modern Persian became a at the indefatigable press of Serampore, which is cultivated language about the year 1000, having resupplied by a letter foundery and a paper mill, be- ceived a considerable mixture of Arabic and Turklonging to the same establishment, enabling them to ish words. The term Parsee is commonly applied to execute the whole business at less than half the a corrupt Pehlvi, spoken by the refugee fire worexpense of European books of the same magnitude. shippers in Bombay. The little pamphlet, already quoted, contains also The Goths are said to have inhabited, for some specimens of the characters of the Sanscrit, Assam, centuries, the countries about the Black Sea, and Bengalee, Mahratta, Sikh, and Cashmirian, which may originally have bordered on Persia; from this somewhat resemble each other in the square form of circumstance, and probably also from the effects of their characters, as well as of the Burman, Orissa, a later irruption of the Goths into Persia, which is Telinga, and Cingalese, which have a more rounded recorded in history, we may easily explain the ocand flourished appearance; of the Tamul, which currence of many Persian words in German, and in looks a little like Armenian; of the Afghan and the the other languages of Northern Europe. Professor Persian used in India ; and of the Chinese, both as Adeijng has examined more than two hundred

LANGUAGES.

235

Languages, cases of such resemblances, and has found only one and the Egyptian. The people are supposed to have Languages, originally from the Persian Gulf; the Ihihsixth part of them in Anquetil’s vocabularies of the come who were found among them, to have emimore ancient dialects; he has, however, omitted to stines, grated from the Delta to Cyprus, to have been thence state what proportion the whole magnitude of these expelled by the Phenicians, and to have adopted the vocabularies bears to that of a complete dictionary language of the Canaanites, when they settled among of the language. It is well known that an Essay them. The book of Job is considered as affording was published a few years since in London On the Similarity of the Persian and English Languages ; some idea of the dialect of Edom; it is well known and a more elaborate work on the relations of the to contain many Arabisms, besides some other pecuPersian languages, by Mr Le Pileur, has since ap- liarities. The Phenician is only known from a few peared in Holland. Mr Le Pileur attempts to ex- coins and inscriptions found chiefly in Cyprus and in plain the is or s of the genitive of the northern lan- Malta, and not yet very satisfactorily deciphered, guages, by the Persian proposition ez, which seems though Akerblad is convinced, by some of them, that varied but very little from the Hebrew; of its deto be synonymous with the Greek and Latin ex ; it the Punic, or Carthaginian, a specimen is but he has not shown that this ez ever follows the scendant, preserved in the speech of Hanno in Plautus, as hapnoun to which it relates. pily arranged by Bochart; the objection of Adelung, The Kurds speak a corrupt dialect of the Persian; they are probably derived from the Carduchi of the respecting the want of a proper name, appearing to Greeks, who inhabited the Gordiaean hills. They have arisen from a mistake. The last six lines of the spread into Persia about the year 1000, and are now text are probably either a repetition of the same situated on the borders of the Persian and Turkish speech in the old Lybian of the neighbourhood, or a dominions. The language of the Afghans, about jargon intended to imitate it. The Hebrews originated among the Chaldeans; Candahar, is said to contain about one fourth of Terah, the father of Abraham, having been a native Persian, and some Tartarian, besides the Sanscrit of Ur, or Edessa, beyond the Euphrates; they adoptwhich abounds in it. 7. The Arabian family is called by the German ed the language of the Capaanites, among whom critics Semitic, from Shem the son of Noah, as hav- they led a nomadic life, till their residence in Egypt, must probably have liad some effect in modiing been principally spoken by hfe descendants. which fying their language. Afti?r that time, however, it Though not intimately connected with the European languages, it is well known to have afforded appears to have varied but little, in a period of 1000 years, from Moses to Malachi, and this circumstance some words to the Greek and Latin; it has also Adelung considers as so uncommon and improbable, some in common with the Sanscrit, though apparentthat he is disposed to believe that the writings of ly fewer than either the Greek or the German. Thus we have Acer, Hebr. a Husbandman ; Ager, Moses must have been modernised, at least as late as the time of Samuel. The old Hebrew became exLat. a Field; Asther, a Star, Gr. Aster; Bara, Bu- tinct, as a living language, about 500 B. C.; 1000 ri, Germ. Burg; Ben, Hebr. Son, Sanscr. Bun, years afterwards, the Masoretic points were added, Child; Esh, Hebr. Eshta, Chald. Fire, Sanscr. Aster ; and Ish, Hebr. Man, Sanscr. Isha, Man or to assist in its pronunciation ; and this was done in measure upon the model of the Syrochaldaic, Lord. The Hebrew Ani, Anoki, I, has been no- some which that time was still spoken. Ibe Septuagint ticed by Townsend and others as affording an ety- version,at which is much older, supports, in the inmology for Ego as well as for FH or Mi of verbs, stances of many of the proper names, the reading infor the Anok of the Egyptians, and even for the Ngo dicated by the points, but in about as many others it of the Chinese. . The northern nations of this family have sometimes appears to deviate from that system, and to agree been comprehended under the name Aramaic, in with a mode of pronunciation founded upon the text contradistinction to the middle, or Canaanitish, and or principal characters alone. The reading in Greek letters of Origen, in his Hexapla, tends, on the whole, the southern, or Arabian. 1 he Eastern Aramaic, or very strongly to support the points. The Chaldee old Chaldee, is very little known; it was the lan- had superseded the Hebrew at the time of the captio-uage of a people situated in the north of Mesopota- vity, and was gradually converted into the Syrochalmia^ which is now the south of Armenia; a part of daic, which is called Hebrew in the New Testament. them extended themselves further south, and became 'Phe Targums, and the J almud of Babylon, aie in the Babylonians; of whose dialect some traces are said older Chaldee ; and a Syrochaldaic translation of the still to exist, about Mosul and Diarbeker. The o Testament has been discovered to be stdl in exAssyrians, between the Tigris and Media, were a co- New istence. lony of the Babylonians, and spoke a language uninThe Samaritan somewhat resembles the Chaldee , telligible to the Jews. (XL Kings, 18.) Ihe western it was formed among the Phenicians and others, who Aramaic has become known, since the Christian era, occupied the habitations of the ten tribes, when they as the Syriac, in which there is an ancient and valu- were carried into captivity by Salmanassar aud Esarable translation of the New Testament. It is still haddon. Its peculiar alphabet is well known as a spoken about Edessa and Harran. The Palmyiene mere variation of the Hebrew. was one of its dialects ; the modern Assyrian of the The Rabbinic dialect was principally formed m the Russian Vocabularies appears to be another. middle ages, among the Spanish Jews, who were The language of the Canaanites is said, by St Jechiefly descended from the inhabitants of Jerusalem; rom, to have been intermediate between the Hebrew hh VOL. v. PART 11.

236 LANGUAGES. Languages, while those of Germany and Poland were generally Mr W. J. Bankes. By means of a proper name, in Languages, Galileans, and .spoke a ruder dialect of the Hebrew one of Mr Cockerell’s inscriptions, we obtain a part's*^y-»« than the fugitives from the metropolis. The Arabs have been a distinct, and in great mea- of the alphabet; thus i is A ; A, d ; e, i; p, r ; ^ ’ sure an independent nation, for more than 3000 years. Some of them were descended from Shem ; s ; and probably A, h ; and i, l. A further compariothers, as the Cushites, Canaanites, and Amalekites, son of the different parts of the other inscriptions, from his brother Ham. Their language, as it is with the Greek phrases that almost uniformly accomfound in the Koran, contains some mixture of Indian, pany them, implying “ for himself and his wife Persian, and Abyssinian words. Its grammar was and ms children gives us the words a, or little cultivated until a century or two after the time at’hi, himself; sa, his, or for his, hrdi, or perhaps of Mahomet. It is certainly copious, but its copi- hroi, wife ; tida imi, son ,* tidaima, children ; and ousness has been ridiculously exaggerated, and ab- atbi, and. It does not appear that any of these surdly admired. The best Arabic is spoken by the words would authorise us to place the Lycian lanupper classes in Yemen ; in Mecca it is more mixed ; guage as a member of the great Indoeuropean class ; in Syria corrupt, and still more so in some parts of but it is reported to have been much mixed with Africa. There are dialects which require the assist- Greek, and on account of its geographical situation, ance of an interpreter to make them intelligible ; at it may be allowed to occupy a temporary rank bethe same time, it has been maintained by Aryda, a tween the principal Oriental and European lanlearned Arab of Syria, in contradiction to Niebuhr, guages. If it has a shadow of likeness to any other that the Arabic of the Koran is still employed in con- language, it is perhaps to the Cimbric; and Tidaimi versation among the best educated of the people, as may also possibly be allied to the Greek Titheno, to well as in correct writing. The Arabs living in nurse. houses are called Moors; and those of Africa are 9. Respecting the ancient Phrygian, we have a the best known under this name. The Mapuls, or few traditions only, which at least agree in giving it Mapulets, of Malabar and Coromandel, are a nume- a high antiquity, as the source of several Greek rous colony of Arabs, who have been settled there words. Thus, Plato observes, in his Cratylus, that above a thousand years. the terms denoting fire and water are not derived The Ethiopians are descended from the Cushite from any other Greek words, but are Phrygian priArabs. In the time of Nimrod they conquered Ba- mitives. It seems, however, that water was called bylon : before that of Moses they emigrated into Bedu by the Phrygians, and the word resembles the Africa, and settled in and about Tigri; in Isaiah’s Bada, Bath, of the northern nations, as well as the time, they seem to have extended to Fez; and at Fate, water, of the Swedes; Moirai, the fates, depresent they occupy Tigri, Amhara, and some neigh- rived from the Phrygian, is compared to Meyar, bouring countries. They became Christians in 325, virgins, of the Gothic ; and Beh, bread, is as much but retained the initiatory ceremony of the Jews and like our Bake, as like the Albanian Buk, bread. Mussulmen. The pure or literary Ethiopic is called 10. The Greek has no very intimate or general Geezy or Axumitic, in contradistinction to the Am- connexion with any of the older languages, which haric, by which it was superseded as the language of have been preserved entire, although there are a common life in Amhara, about the fourteenth centu- number of particular instances of its resemblance to ry, although it is still spoken, without much altera- the Sanscrit, some of which have been already mention, in some parts of Tigri; while, in others, as in tioned ; it has also many German and Celtic words, Hauasa, a different dialect is spoken. The Ethiopic some Sclavonian, and, as it is said, a few Finnish. It was first particularly made known in Europe by the can only have been immediately derived from the elaborate publications of Ludolf. Mr Asselin has language of the neighbouring Thracians and Pelaslately procured a translation of the whole of the Bible gians, who seem to have come originally from the into the Amharic, as it is now spoken at Gondar ; it middle of Asia, through the countries north of the was executed by the old Abyssinian traveller who was Black Sea, and to have occupied not only Greece known to Bruce and to Sir William Jones, and it is and Thrace, but also the neighbouring parts of Asia said to be now printing at the expense of some of Minor, where they probably retained their ancient the British societies. dialect to a later period than elsewhere. The whole The Maltese is immediately derived from the mo- of the Thracian states were greatly deranged by the dern Arabic, without any intervention of the Punic. expedition of the Celts, in 278 B. C., which termiThe island, having been successively subject to the nated in their settling the colony of Galatia. The Phaeacians, Phenicians, Greeks, Carthaginians, Ro- Dacians, or Getae, who principally occupied Bulgamans, and Goths, was subdued by the Arabians, ria, extended themselves further northwards, and afin the ninth century; in the eleventh, the Normans terwards constituted the Roman provinces of Moesia conquered it, and it remained united with Sicily, un- and Dacia, which were conquered by the Goths, in til it became in some measure independent, under the the third century. The Macedonians, in the time of Knights of St John. Alexander, spoke a language which was nearly un8. The Lycian is only known from a few short in- intelligible to the Greeks in general; even the Pescriptions, copied by Mr R. Cockerell, and published in lasgi, in Epirus and Thessaly, long retained a dialect Mr Walpole's collection, together with two or three materially different from their neighbours; and in longer ones, which have been lately brought from Arcadia still longer. The Hellenes, who emigrated Antiphellos, by the enterprising and indefatigable from Asia Minor into Greece, were not sufficiently 11

237 LANGUAGES. Languages, numerous to carry their own dialect with them, al- meaning twice five, has been considered as the origi- s— though the language assumed their name. The nal of deca. But none of these etymologies seems' Graeci in Italy were Pelasgians, although Dionysius to be so decisive of originality as that of caterva, of Halicarnassus includes them in the denomination which is evidently related to turba or turma; while Hellenic; their language must have been Aeolodoric, the first syllable remains unexplained in Latin, but and it was in this form that the Latin received its in the Celtic we have cad tarf, or cath tarf, a •war mixture of Greek ; the Lacedemonian also retained troop, agreeing undeniably with the sense. For another example, we may take ventus and wind, for it till a late period, writing, for instance, instead of which we find no Latin etymology, while the GerPais, Poir, as in Latin Puer. The Aeolie appears once to have extended over Attica, and to have left man furnishes us with wehen to blow, and thence some Aeolisms in the old Attic dialect. I his dialect wehend and wind; the words nodus and knot afford was the principal basis of the Common language of also a similar instance, nodus having nothing nearer Greece at a later period, which must have been the to it in Latin than neo to spin, necto to unite ; but most cultivated under the protection of the court of in German we have knutten to join, and in English and knead from the same root. The degrees of Alexandria, and which continued to be spoken and knit comparison are expressed in Greek by eros and iswritten in the highest circles of Constantinople throughout the middle ages; by degrees it degene- tos; in Anglosaxon by er or era, and ist or ast. rated into the modern Romaic, having received a Er seems to mean before, as well as the Latin or. mixture of Turkish and Italian, and perhaps of The Coptic has no comparative, but for better than I, the Egyptians said very good before me. It would some other neighbouring languages.^ 11. The German family is sufficiently connected seem at first sight natural to make than a preposition, as well as before, and to say better than me; with a variety of others, belonging to the Indoeuro- but the fact is that in English, as well as in German, pean class, to be admitted into it upon a very short investigation. Its resemblances to the Greek, within it was usual of old to say then or denn in this sense; and he is wiser than 1 meant only, he is wise before, the compass of the Lord’s Prayer, besides Father and then I follow. The idea of time or place is now Name, are Wille, Wollen, Gr. Boule, perhaps Brot or dropped as unessential to the kind of priority in Proat, bread, like Artos, and Freyen or Losen, like question, but the ground of the grammatical conRhuein and Lusein. Dr Jamieson has shown very struction remains unaltered. In Moesogothic the clearly, in his Hermes Scythicus, how immediately the comparative termination is izo or ozo; the superlastructure of the Gothic languages is derived from that tive ists or ista ; thus the Greek meizon becomes of the Greeks. Thus the ein of the Greek infini- meizo : and maists is obviously megistos. The. tive became in the Moesogothic an or ian, in Ger- old megalos is mikils, mickle or muckle; and minor, man en ; the icos of the adjectives, Moesogothic, minimus, became minnizo, minnists ; in Persian mih AGS, igs, or EIGS, as mahteigs, mighty; Germ. is great, mihter, greater, mihtras, greatest; better machtig; the Sclavonians have ski, the Swedes ska; seems to be from the old German bied or bieder, upthe inos, Lat. enus, Anglosaxon en : the licos, right, honest, and resembles the Persian bihter, betLatin, lis, German lich, English like ; thus pehcos ter. The Moesogothic verbs have also some strikis what like, as least in Scotland; the Moesogothic ing resemblances in their form to the Latin, thus the swaleiks is our such ; sameleiks is similis. Los, lis, present tense of to have is Haba, habais, habaith ; lion, of diminutives, in Latin lus, becomes in Moe- HABAM, HABAITH, HABAND ; HABAIT is HABAIDA ; sogothic ilo, as barnilo, a little child; in German HABENS, HABANDS; HABENTIS, HABANDIS; HAmdnnl is a little man. Among the pronouns we have ben*tem, habandam; habentes, habandans. Ego in Greek and Latin, Moesogothic ik, Icelandic The substantive verb singular in Greek is eimi, eis, eg, Swedish jag; emou, mou, Gr., Latin mei, esti ; the plural in Latin sumus, estis, sunt ; the Moesogothic meina, German meiner ; emoi, moi ; Moesogothic has Im, is, ist, suum, sijuth, sind : Latin mihi, Moesogothic mis ; Swedish mig, Dutch and sis is sijais ; esse, wisan. The Moesogomy; eme, me; Latin me, Moesogothic mik, Anglo- thic nouns frequently retain the resemblance ot the Saxon me, Dutch my. Sii, Doric tu ; Latin tu ; Greek more strongly than their more modern deriMoesogothic thu. Is in Latin, Moesogothic is; vatives ; thus a tooth does not seem to point very ejus, Moesogothic is, izos; id, Moesogothic ita, immediately to dentem or odonta as its source ; English it ; Quis, cujus, cui, QUEM ; Moesogothic but the older form tunthu is clearly the intermediQuhas, quhis, quhe, quhana, the last having t ate stage of this modification; and numberless other n; as the Greek hon; uter, whether; alter, instances of the same kind might easily be found. other, seems to be derived from anther, entheThe Germans were known, as early as the time ra, meaning one of them, so that in this instance the Vuthpas"that is 320 B. C. as consisting of the jutes in Denmark, Teutones on the6 coast to the k the wht^kXTon ^'« “ ’ the TeUtnext, °"eS 0and “ -’'ilastly ^ east of them, the Ostiaeans the Cosmology for moiogy mr ekeinos, from ekei, there,' which , is sini, Cotini, or Goths. Professor Adelung imagines wanting to the Moesogothic gains or jains, the that the eastern nations, or Suevi, employed almost Alemannic gener, the German jener, an from the earliest times a high German dialect, and English yonder or yon. Again, among the nu- the western, or Cimbri, a low German; the Suevi he merals, deka has been derived from deo, as ^ b°t supposes to have been driven, at a remote period hands were tied together, and pente has a strong into the south of Germany by the Sclavomans; anc resemblance to panta, as if all the five fingeis w some of the Goths appear to have extended as far as reckoned: and on the other hand, da cuig m Lraeiic,

238 LANGUAGES. Languages, the Crimea. The Bible of Ulphila, in the Gothic characters cut in wood, which were sometimes used Languages, or Moesogothic of 360, is the oldest specimen in exby the Scandinavian nations. The Swedes are de- ’ y ‘*^«» • istence of the German language. Besides the Greek rived from a mixture of Scandinavians with Goths and Latin, which appear to prevail so much in the from Upper Germany; but their language does not language, it exhibits a considerable mixture of Scla- exhibit any dialectic differences corresponding to vonian and Finnish; the translation is far more li- this difference of extraction. Mr Townsend has teral than it could be made in any of the more given us a list, from Peringskiold, of 670 Swedish modern dialects of the German; and sometimes ap- words, resembling the Greek; but it must be conpears to follow the text with somewhat too much fessed that the resemblance is in many cases exservility. tremely slight. The modern German, founded on the higher diaThe Saxons are mentioned by Ptolemy as a small lects of Saxony, was fixed and made general by nation in Holstein; whence, in conjunction with the Martin Luther. There are many shades of dialect Frieslanders, and the Angles of South Jutland, they and pronunciation in the different parts of this diver- came over to England, about the year 450. The sified country, but none of them of any particular Saxons settled principally south of the Thames, the interest, or established by any literary authority. Angles north. At the union of the Heptarchy, the There are still some German colonies, in the terri- Saxon dialect prevailed, and the Anglish, which tories of Vicenza and Verona, called the Sette Co- nearly resembled the Danish of that time, was less in muni, which retain their language. The German use; but new swarms of Danes having inundated Jems have a peculiar jargon, borrowed in some mea- the north of England, in 787, the Danish dialect was sure from their brethren in Poland, which they introduced by Canute and his followers; and it is write in Hebrew characters; and another similar about this period that our earliest specimens of the mixture of discordant dialects is spoken by the Anglosaxon are dated. The Saxon dialect again obItothwelsh, a vagabond people in the south of Ger- tained the ascendancy under Edward the Confessor ; many, who have sometimes been confounded with and although some French was introduced by this’ the Gipsies. prince, and still more by William the Conqueror, The Low Saxon, or Platt Deutsch,'is spoken into the higher circles of society, the courts of law, about Halberstadt, and further north, in the coun- and the schools, yet the use of the French language tries between the Elbe and the Weser; it seems to never became general among the lower classes, and be intimately connected with the Frieslandish and the Saxon recovered much of its currency in the Danish, as well as with the English. The Friesland- thirteenth century, when the cities and corporate ers originally extended from the Rhine to the Ems, towns rose into importance, under Edward the First; and the Cauchi, thence to the Elbe ; these countries in the fourteenth century, it was permanently estastill retain a dialect materially varying from those of blished, with the modifications which it had received their neighbours. The Brokmic Jaws of the thir- from the French; and it may be considered as truly teenth century exhibit some remarkable differences English from this period, or even somewhat earlier, from the German of the same date: thus we find in at least if Pope Adrian’s rhymes are the genuine prothem Redieva a judge, or Reeve, instead of Richter s duction of 1156. It is still much more German than Kenne, kin ; and sida, side, as in Swedish, instead of French ; in the Lord’s Prayer, the only words of Laseite. The Batavian Frieslandish approaches very tin origin are Trespass, Temptation, and Deliver. much to the English ; it has several subdialects, as Professor Adelung’s remarks, on the simplicity of the those of Molkmer, and Hindelop. Some of the English language, appear to be so judicious as to Cauchish Frieslanders remain in the territory of deserve transcribing. “ The language,” he observes Bremen ; the North Frieslanders occupy Heligoland, “ only received its final cultivation at the time of the Husum, and Amrdm. Reformation, and of the civil disturbances which folThe Dutch language is a mixture of Frieslandish, lowed that event; nor did it acquire its last polish Low Saxon, and German, with a little French. It till after the Revolution, when the authors who emappears, from Kolyn’s Chronicle, to have been dis- ployed it elevated it to that high degree of exceltinctly formed as early as 1156. lence, of which, from its great copiousness, and the The Scandinavian branch of the Germanic family remarkable simplicity of its construction, it was peis characterized by the want both of gutturals and of culiarly capable. It is the most simple of all the aspirates, which renders its pronunciation softer and European languages; the terminations of its substanless harsh; and by some peculiarities of construc- tives being only changed in the genitive and in the tion, for instance, by the place of the article, which plural, and the alterations of the roots of the verbs follows its noun, both in Danish and Swedish, instead not exceeding six or seven. This simplicity depends of preceding it, as in most other languages. The in some measure on a philosophical accuracy, which name of Denmark is first found in the ninth century ; is carried systematically through the whole language, until the sixth, the people were called Jutes. JVor- so that the adjectives, participles, and article, are inmay, in the ninth century, was termed Nordmanland. declinable, being in their nature destitute of any idea A corrupt Norwegian is still, or was lately, spoken of gender, case, or number; and the form of generic in some of the Orkneys, which were long subject to distinction is (^almost entirely] confined to objects Norway and Denmark. In the eastern parts of Ice- which are naturally entitled to it. The pronuncialand, the language is much like the Norwegian; but, tion, on the other hand, is extremely intricate, and on the coast, it is mixed with Danish. The oldest foreign proper names, in particular, are much mutispecimen of Icelandic is the Jus Ecclesiasticum of lated, whenever they are adopted by the English.” 1123. The term Runic relates to the rectilinear 12. The Celtic family forms a very extensive and

239 LANGUAGES. Lan ua e6 Languages, very interesting subdivision of the Indoeuropean from Asia after the Iberians, or Cantabrians, and be- jr g g } class. It has been asserted, by some writers, uthat the fore the Thracians, or Pelasgians, settling principal- ~ * six original European languages, the Iberian, Celtic, ly in Gaul, and spreading partly into Italy, under the Germanic, Thracian, Sclavonian, and Finnish, were name of Ausonians and Umbrians. In 570 B. C., just as distinct as the beginning of their history as they they undertook expeditions, for the purposes of connow arebut this assertion must be subjected to quest, but they were subdued by the Romans. considerable modification; the thing is in itself so Their language was current in Gaul till the sixth or improbable, as to require far more evidence than we seventh century, when it was superseded by the possess to establish it, even if. that evidence were of rustic Roman, which by degrees became French: in Ireland and Scotland, it has remained with few a more decisive nature; and, in fact, it will actually ; in Wales and Britanny, it has been more be found, upon a comparison of the Gothic of Ulphi- alterations mixed. The Gauls must have peopled Britain at la with the more modern dialects, that the Germanic least as early as 500 B. C. The true ancient Britons of that day did approach more nearly, both to the are the Highlanders of Scotland only, having been Celtic and to the Thracian or Greek, than any of its more modern descendants do. The change of tun- driven northwards by the Cimbri; they still call their language Gaelic. The Irish are probably derived thu into tooth, for which the Germans have zahn, from these Highlanders; they were originally termhas already been noticed ; the atta and him in a of Ulphila seem to be more like the Irish at air and ed Scots or Scuits, that is, fugitives, from the cirNeamh, than the modern Vater and Ilimmel are; cumstance of their expulsion from Britain ; so that, where the Scots are mentioned before the tenth cenand the Moesogothic vair, which answers to the tury, as by Porphyry, in the third, we are. to underCimbric fear, a man, is not at present found in German, though its traces may still be observed in the stand the Irish. Gildas, in 564 but is now universally known. Its richv ness arises from one-half the milk being skimmed, and the cream taken from that added to the other milk, so that the cheese have double the usual quantity of cream in their composition. Bakewell improved, also, the breed of horses to a great extent. In this line there was less room for any extraordinary progress ; but his black horses, of the cart kind, originating principally from mares which he brought from Flanders, enabled him to introduce the method of ploughing with two horses abreast, by which much labour in agriculture is saved. ManufacThe manufacture of most eminence in this county ture6, is that of Hosiery, which gives employment more or less constant to two-thirds of its inhabitants. The quantity of stockings made here is prodigious, and supplies the greater part of the British dominions, as well as many other parts of the world, with those of an inferior and middling quality. The first frames were invented about 1590, but the first introduced in Leicestershire was used at Hinckley, in 1640. Since that period, many improvements in the machinery of them have been made. At each step in advance, the apprehension of diminishing the labour has occasioned riots and tumults among the workmen, which have been continued to the present time, and recently has embodied them under the denomination of Luddites, to the terror of the peaceful inhabitants, some of whom have transferred their capitals and machinery to less turbulent districts. The only other manufactures of consideration are, an extensive one of cotton-spinning and weaving, at Loughborough, and some small ones, of stuffs, at Market Harborough. Minerals. In the north-west part of the county there are extensive mines of valuable coal, which supply the inhabitants of the surrounding districts. With them terminate the mines in the direction of the German Ocean to the southward. At Bredon, on the confines, the singular rock, called Bredon Hill, is composed of a most valuable kind of limestone, which forms an excellent cement in water, and which was used for building the pier of Ramsgate. Antiquities. The Roman roads are still visible in many parts of the county, though in many instances they have been covered by the more recent highways. The Watling Street road, the Fossway, and the Via Havana, traversed the county, and have been traced with great accuracy by antiquarians. At Radcliffe, on the Wreke, is an ancient tumulus, generally attributed to the Celts, 350 feet long, and 120 broad. At Leicester, which was a Roman station, are still visible the remains of the architecture of that people, in what is called the Jewny wall, consisting of a mass of stones, brick work, and dilapidated arches, built in alternate courses of brick in three layers, and of stone. Near the town is the vestige of a British Cursus, according to some antiquarians, or of a Roman camp, according to others. At different and distant periods a great number of coins have been discovered, with the names of Titus, Trajan, Dioclesian, Constantine, Constantius, Hadrian, and other Roman emperors. Other Roman antiquities have been found at Rothley, at Wanlip, at Market liar-

1, E I borough, at Burrow, and at Cathorpe. The Gothic Leicesterremains are considerable; those of the Abbey of Lei- siltre cester, of the Nunnery of Grace Dieu, Ulvestoft Leitrjm> Priory, Laund Priory, the Castle of Ashby-de-laZouch, the churches of Hinckley and Melton-Mowbray, and the chapel of Market Harborough, all reward the inspection of the antiquarian. In the church of Lutherworth, the pulpit and part Historical of the vestments of the great reformer Wickliffe are Noticesstill preserved. He was buried there in 1387; but, in 1428, his bones were taken up and burnt, and the ashes thrown into the river, by order of the Council of Sienna. Leicestershire has been the scene of two great military events, which have been the means of transferring the government of England. The first the battle of Bosworth, which terminated the reign and life of Richard III. in 1485, and the other the battle of Naseby in 1645, which led to the death of Charles L, and the subsequent elevation of Oliver Cromwell. Leicestershire returns but four members to Parliament, viz. two for the county, and two for the borough of Leicester. The noblemen and gentlemen’s seats are very numerous : the most remarkable are, Belvoir Castle, Duke of Rutland; Beaumanoir Park, W. Herrick, Esq.; Buckminster, Sir William Manners; Staunton Harold, Lord Ferrers; Kirkby Park, Sir R. Milbank ; Normanton Hall, George Pochin, Esq.; Rothley Temple, T. Babbington, Esq.; Staplef'ord, Earl of Harborough; Stoughton Grange, G. A. L. Keck, Esq.; Donnington Park, Marquis Hastings; Gospal Hall, Honourable R. Curzon ; Stewards Hay, Earl of Stamford. See Nicholls’s History of Leicestershire ; and Parliamentary Population Papers. (w. w.) LEITRIM is a county in Ireland, in the province Situation of Connaught, bounded on the north by the bay ofand Extent# Donegal and the county of Fermanagh, on the east and south-east by Cavan and Longford, and on the south and west by Roscommon and Sligo. It is about 58 English miles long, and from 7 to 20 broad, and contains 604 English square miles, or 386,560 English acres, divided into five baronies, and seventeen parishes. Half this area or more consists of bog, waste, and water. The centre of the county is in north latitude 55°, and west longitude 7°. The river Shannon, which enters Leitrim on the Surface, &c. north-east from Cavan, about five miles from its source, and soon after flows into Lough Allen, forms, after issuing from that lake on the south, the boundary with Roscommon, on the south-west, till it leaves this county at the village of Rusky. From Garrick on Shannon to Husky the country is well wooded, fertile, and exceedingly pleasant; but from the southern side of Lough Allen to the northern boundaries, throughout its whole breadth, the greater part of the surface is occupied with mountains, and presents, though not without several exceptions, a very rugged and sterile appearance. The Shannon is the only river of any note ; another, the Abhain-Naille, is remarkable for having its source in the lake Killowmawn, situated on the summit of a mountain, called Leacka, into which no streams flow

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Leitrim. The principal lake is Lough Allen, near the middle of the western boundary, about nine miles long, and seven miles broad. Lough Melvyn and Lough Gill, though much smaller, deserve to be noticed for the beauty of the scenery on their banks, and the former for its wooded islands and ruins. In these lakes, and also in the Shannon and most of the rivulets, various sorts of fish, the perch in particular, are in great abundance. There are large tracts of a dark fertile soil incumbent on limestone in the low grounds, but the hills are for the most part covered with a coarse unproductive clay mixed with gravel, and very retentive Minerals, of water. Below this clay, slate of different colours sometimes occurs. Ironstone, in some places alternating with limestone, is very common; and it was formerly worked to some extent. Coal is found in the mountain Sliebh-an-Erin, on the east side of Lough Allen, and has been raised in quantities for some years, but it is not of a good quality, and is employed only in founderies. Pipe-clay and ochre appear in the beds of the rivulets that descend from this mountain. Lead and copper are known to exist in several places; and there is a great variety of clays and marls. Mineral springs, both chalybeate and sulphureous, are not unfrequent, and have been used with very beneficial effects. About the beginning of the eighteenth century, Leitrim is said to have been almost a continued forest. There is now little wood in it, and no considerable plantations. The proprietors, however, have of late paid some attention to this method of improvement, and several large nurseries have been established for the sale of forest and other trees. Estates and This county is in general divided into large estates, Farms. and nearly all the great proprietors are absentees. The leases are commonly for three lives or thirtyone years. Agriculture is here in a very low state. The tillage farms are small, seldom exceeding fifty or sixty acres, and these are almost always subdivided among a number of tenants. The plough is very little used. The most common implement is the loy, a kind of spade eighteen inches long, about four inches broad at the bottom, and five or six inches at the top, where it is furnished with a wooden handle about five feet long. The first two crops are potatoes, which are followed by flax, and then oats for one or more years. Clovers and other green crops are unknown in the practice of the tenantry. The county raises grain and potatoes sufficient for its own consumption, but exports very little of either. Its cattle have been much improved by the introduction of English breeds, to which some of those now bred and reared in it are said to be not inferior. There are no considerable dairies, yet a good deal of butter is made throughout the district, and some of this is sent to the market of Sligo. The sheep are of the native race, small, and but few in number. Population. In 1802, the number of families multiplied by five, gave a population of 76,630, in which, according to Wakefield, the Catholics are as thirty to one. The principal towns are Carrick on Shannon, Carrigallen,^ Mohill, Ballinamore, and Manor Hamilton, none or which contains more than a few hundred inhabitants. Leitrim, from which the counfy takes its name, has VOL. v. PART II.

L E M 251 been for many years of still less importance, though Leitrim it is pleasantly situated on the Shannon. There are Lemonnier several bleachfields, and some coarse potteries; and / a number of people are employed in weaving. But the linen made here, as well as the coarse woollen goods, is chiefly for the use of the inhabitants themselves. The houses of the lower classes are of the worst description ; even the more recently erected farm buildings, including a little barn and cow-house, do not cost more than L.10 or L.12. Turf is their only fuel, and potatoes and oaten bread the chief articles of food, meat being used on extraordinary occasions only; but the people are said to be comfortably clothed. In 1802, wages were only from Wages and 4d. to 6d. a-day for cottars, and 6|d. with breakfastPrices* and dinner, for occasional labourers, and these rates have not been much altered since. The price of potatoes is from l^d. to 3d., and of oatmeal from Is. to Is. 9d. per stone. Even among the old people the English language is in general use. Leitrim county sends two members to Parliament. See Macparlan’s Agricultural Survey of Leitrim^. and the general works quoted under the former Irish counties. (A0 LEMONNIER (Peter [Claude] Charles), a diligent and accurate astronomer, born at Paris, 23d November 1715, was the son of Peter Lemonnier, of St Sever in Normandy. His father was a professor of philosophy in the College d’Harcourt, and a member of the Academy ot Sciences : he distinguished himself, as a teacher, by his activity in promoting the introduction of mathematical reasoning into the Cartesian philosophy. Under such auspices, the son might have enjoyed facilities for the cultivation of any of the sciences; but he soon showed a decided preference for astronomy, and began to be a practical observer before he was sixteen. In the month of November 1732, Mr Pouchy procured him the use of a mural quadrant of three feet radius, and he soon applied himself with diligence to the determination of the sun s greatest equation,—an investigation which he continued for many years; and in 1741, he found the equation to amount to 1° 55r 31'/; a quantity diffeiing only by 7'' from Delambre’s latest determination. He presented to the Academy of Sciences, in 1735, an elaborate map of the moon, accompanied by some remarks ; and in the month of April of the following year, before he was twenty-one yeais old, he was made a member of the Academy, in the c aracter of Adjunct Geometrician. He continued to be a constant contributor to its Memoirs for more than fifty years. The winter of 1736 and 1737 he passed at Torneo, with Clairaut and Maupertuis, as a member of a committee appointed by the Academy for measuring a degree in Lapland; and he was not less zealous than any of his colleagues in the execution of that arduous undertaking. ^ . t He is considered as having effected, in conjunction with Lacaille, a complete reformation in the practical astronomy of France. He entered very early into correspondence with the English astronomers of the day ; they had carried their instruments and modes of observation to a higher degree ot perKk

252 LEM Lcmonnier. fection than their neighbours; and Lemonnier was of great use to the science, in making known to his countrymen the practical methods of Flamsteed, and in introducing the instruments of Graham and Bird. In April 1739> he was made a Foreign member of the Royal Society of London, and for the last twelve or fourteen years of his life, he is said to have been the senior member of the Society. He was the first that introduced the effects of nutation, then lately discovered by Bradley, into the solar tables; and he complained bitterly of Lacaille’s injustice, in not giving him due credit for the improvement. The Due de Noailles made him known to the King of France, who was fond of his company, and showed him many kindnesses; in 1742, he gave him apartments at the Capucins in the Rue St Honore, where he continued to live till the Revolution : on another occasion, when he had taken great pains to fix an accurate meridian at St Sulpice, the king made him a present of 15,000 livres, which he expended in the purchase of instruments, as the greatest luxury that he was capable of enjoying. The places of the stars, which he determined in 1740, served Lalande for the purpose of computing their proper motions, though they differed a little from the results of Bradley’s observations. About 1746, he was much engaged in examining the inequalities of Saturn, produced by the attraction of Jupiter : and Euler employed his computations in the theory, which obtained a prize in 1748; each confirming the accuracy of the other. He continued to observe the moon, without intermission, for fifty years, though a small part only of his observations was published. In the year 1748 he went to England, partly for the purpose of obtaining further information, from a personal acquaintance with the astronomers and opticians resident in London, and partly in order to observe the solar eclipse of that year, in a situation where it would be very nearly annular. He proceeded accordingly to Scotland with the Earl of Morton, accompanied by Short the optician, and they observed the eclipse together at Aberdour, an ancient residence of Lord Morton’s in Fifeshire. They obtained their time from the College at Edinburgh, where there was a transit instrument, by means of the flash of a cannon fired from the castle at twelve, and another five minutes after. “ The eclipse was so nearly annular, that at the nearest appimach, the cusps seemed to want about one-seventh of the moon's circumference to be joined; yet a brown light was plainly observed, both by Lord Morton and myself;” says Mr Short, “ to proceed or stretch along the circumference of the moon, from each of the cusps, about one-third of the whole distance of the cusps from each cusp ; and there remained about one-third of the whole distance of the cusps not enlightened by this brown light, so that we were for some time in suspense whether or not we were to have the eclipse annular with us. During the greatest darkness, the planet Venus was seen at Edinburgh, and other places, by a great number of people, but I did not hear of any other stars being seen. The darkness was not great, but the sky appeared of a faint languid colour.” In fact, our mornings and

L E M evenings are always illuminated by a light, which Lemonnier. has acquired more or less of a red tinge in its obiique passage through the atmosphere ; and when we have a similar light without the redness, the contrast between the sensation and the memory makes it appear “ faint,” that is, greenish or grey, instead of white. Mr Lemonnier was particularly anxious to measure the moon’s diameter, which “ he found 29' 47^",” agreeing precisely with the computed diameter, and not requiring any correction for the supposed effects of irradiation. A similar remark was made by a very accurate practical astronomer in the eclipse of 1820. In order to verify the position of his mural quadrant, which was of eight feet radius, and made bv Bird, Lemonnier felt the advantage of having a moveable one to compare with it, and he procured a block of marble eight feet by six, and fifteen inches thick, turning on an axis, to which he fixed his smaller instrument, of five feet radius, in order to be able to reverse its position. He devoted a considerable portion of his time to the investigation of the laws of magnetism, and especially to the variation of the compass; and he endeavoured to ascertain the effect of the moon’s influence on the winds, and on the atmosphere in general. Lemonnier had long disputed the accuracy of the Parisian base, measured by Cassini and Maraldi, but he was at last convinced that his objections were groundless. He was originally a most zealous friend and patron of Lalande, but afterwards, having taken offence at some slight cause, he refused to see him for many years. In fact, he appears to have been somewhat obstinate and irritable; but he is said to have had genius, zeal, activity, and intelligence, as well as credit in the world, and reputation among men of science. He was a voluminous writer; he had much learning and sagacity, but he often wanted precision in his language and his reasoning. In November 1791, he had a paralytic attack, which terminated his scientific career, though he survived it till the 2d April 1799> when a second stroke carried him off, at Herd, near Baieux. He was made, in the mean time, one of the 144 original members of the National Institute, as a testimony to the merit of his past labours. He had married, in 1763, Mile, de Cussy, a lady of very respectable family in Normandj^. He had three daughters; the first married Mr de Parfouru, who was an early victim of the Revolution; the second the celebrated Lagrange; and the third her uncle, Lemonnier the physician, who-was also a man of considerable science, and a Member of the Royal Society of London. From 1735 to 1790, there are very few volumes of the Memoirs of the Academy without one or more of Lemonnier’s papers; but though not unimportant in the aggregate, they are somewhat uninteresting in the detail. They relate almost exclusively to astronomical observations : eclipses, occultations, appulses, oppositions, and conjunctions; solstices, longitudes and latitudes ; with some accounts of astronomical instruments and apparatus. There are also some memoirs relating to the sun’s equation and diameter, and on his place, as compared with

LEW 253 Memoirs of the Academy. The eclipse, which was Lemonnier Lemonnier. Areturus; on the motion of Saturn, and on his fifth satellite; on the expansion of wooden measures; on observed as annular in China, should have been to- Lewis. the transit of Venus, and on the diameter and the tal, according to the computed distances of the lu-, (s. f.) tables of that planet; on Euler’s formula for paral- minaries concerned. LEWIS, is the name of an instrument which is inlax ; on the variation of the needle; on lunar altitudes; on the tides; on horizontal refraction; on dented into a large stone, and has a ring for the purSaturn’s ring, and on some currents of wind. He pose of making fast a rope, in order to move the stone, also published separately some extensive works, or to act as a stay. It is called in Italian TJlivella, in French La Louve, in German Stein Zang. The which acquired considerable celebrity. 1. The first was his Histoire Celeste, 41. IT'il. lewis consists of three wedges of iron, forming, when Comprehending the interval from 1666 to 1685 ; and put together, a dove-tail. The wedges are inserted containing an account of a transit instrument of into an equal and similar hollow dove-tail excavated in the stone. This hollow dove-tail is made exactly of Graham’s construction. 2. Theorie des Cometes, 8. 174*3. Including a the form and size of the lewis, and is a figure of six translation of Halley’s work on comets; together sides; a pair of vertical sides, which are opposite, with a method of computing the orbit from three equal, and parallel, and in form of truncated isosceles triangles ; a pair of inclined sides, opposite equal observations. 3. Institutions Astronomiques, 4. 174*6. An im- rectangles, equally inclined to the axis of the hole, proved translation of Keill’s Astronomy, which long and not parallel. The top and base of the hole are continued to be the best elementary treatise in the rectangles parallel to each other, the base being French language, It contains also solar tables, and longer than the top. The centre of the base and a variety of other additions derived from observation. the centre of the top are in one vertical line. The 4. Observations Astronomiques, Part I. 1751, II. form of the hole, therefore, is that of an inverted wedge, with the point cut off; it is like a cavity 1754, III. 1759, IV. 1775. 5. A Letter on the Theory of the Winds, in Hal- fitted to contain the inverted keystone of an arch. When the iron dove-tail called the lewis is inserted ley’s Tables, published by Chappe. 6. Nouveau Zodiaque, reduit a 1755, 8. Paris, into this hollow dove-tail made in the stone, the ring 1755. Containing thirty-one pages of charts, much at the smaller and upper end of the iron dove-tail more complete than those of Senex, and superseded serves for making fast a rope, for the purpose of raising the stone. The constitution of the substance of timby some very late publications only. ^ ^ 7. A History of Astronomy in the Trade d'Aber- ber enables the workman to fix a rope to it by merely inserting a screw or a spike into the log ; stone will ration of Fontaine des Crutes. 8. Observations •pour la mesure du degre entre not admit of these, and is made fast by the contrivance of the lewis. The lewis of the most useful Paris et Amiens, 8. 175?. 9. Abrege du Pilotage, par Goubert, 4. 1766. form, and that which is used in Britain, is represented at fig. A, Plate XCIV.; a and b are two pieces of With additions. iron in form of inverted wedges. These pieces are 10. Astronomic nautique lunaire, 8. 1771. 11. Exposition des moyens les plus faciles de re- inserted into a quadrangular hole which is made in soudre plusieurs questions dans Vart de la navigation, the stone. The two opposite and shortest sides of 8. 1772. Employing very generally a table ot verse the hole are dove-tailed, or, in other words, undersines ; and greatly recommending the use of Gun- , cut, as represented at fig. B, which is a vertical sec’ tion of the hole ; t is the plan of the hole at top, o ter’s scale for nautical computations. 12. Essai sur les marees, 8. 1774. Particularly is the plan of the bottom of the hole. The hole, as describing the effects of the tides at Mont St Mi- represented in the figure, is five inches long at top, chel, and on the neighbouring flat sands ; including and six inches at bottom; the width is one inch ; also some considerations on refraction, and on mag- the depth seven inches. Sometimes the width is one and a half inch, and the depth four or five inches. netism. . . 13. Description et usage des principaux mstrumens The hole is made of such a size that the lewis fits d’astronomic, fol. 1774. As a part of the collection exactly into it; a’, c', V, are transverse geometrical views of the pieces a, c, b ; in the transverse views of Arts et Metiers. _ • j 14. Atlas celeste de Flamsteed, 4. 1776. Revised. it is seen that the transverse sections of the parts ol pieces that enter the stone are of the same 15. Lois du magnelisme, 2 Parts, 8. 1776-8. With these breadth from top to bottom. The piece c is reprean elaborate chart. sented with a perforation at top, for the purpose of 16. Traite de la construction de vaisseaux, par taking out this piece more easily when the lewis is Chapman, fol. 1779. Prom the Swedish Said to to be unshipped, but the lewis is usually made withbe less perfect than the translation of Vial du Uair- out this upper perforation. 4 he pieces a, b, are first introduced into the hole, then is driven in c, which 17. Memoires concernant diverses questions d’astro- may either be a parallelepiped, or it may be a little nonnie et de physique, 4 Parts, 4. 1781-4-6—8. thicker above, in form of a wedge; the ring m is 18. De la correction introduite pour accourcir la then put on, and the bolt g h is passed through the ligne seche du lock de dix-huit pieds, 8. 1790. holes of the ring and of the three pieces; the bolt °19. Lettre au sujet d'une eclipse. Par. 1791* legether with some remarks on navigation, and on the enters at g, and forelocks at h. The tackle by which currents of the South Seas; all apparently from the the stone is to be elevated is hooked on the ring m. L

E

M

254 Lewisu

LEW This ring, in cases where a rope is to be passed through it, is bound round with cord, to prevent the rope from being chaffed by the iron of the ring. Piranesi has proposed and figured some other forms of this machine in his Antichita di Roma, but they do not appear to be so convenient as the lewis of the common form above described: one of the forms of lewis given by Piranesi is represented at fig. F. The two pieces which constitute the iron dove-tail open and shut by a joint; n is a bolt, which is put into the round hole at after the instrument is inserted into the stone; this transverse bolt serves to keep the legs of the instrument spread out, so as to retain the form of the dove-tail. The lewis of the most usual form, represented at fig. A, and a lewis of another form, fig. G, are figured and described in Perrault’s Vitruvius, lib. x. chap. 2, and in the Theatrum Machinarum, tab. XXXV. p. 111. In the lewis, fig. G, the iron dove-tail L has a ring at top, r, for receiving a rope; L is put into the dove-tailed hole in the stone, and then the two parallelopipedal iron bolts e, u, are put in on each side of the iron dove-tail; e and u are of equal thickness throughout. The top of the hole must not be less than the bottom of the piece L, to the end that L may enter into the hole. The ring must not project beyond the lines which form the prolongation of the inclined sides of the wedge L ; for if the ring projected, the pieces e, u, could not be put into the hole. The hole must be formed so that the machine fit accurately into it. Uses of the The lewis is used for raising large stones of seveLewis. ral tons weight, in the building of harbours, bridges, and other solid fabrics, which, from the forces by which the)' are assailed, or on account of the long period they are designed to endure, require to be constructed of great masses of stone. Leupold, in his Theatrurn Machinarum, mentions, that in many churches in Holland the pavement consists of large slabs of stone or marble, each of them the size of a grave, and covering a burying place; these slabs are laid close to one another, and join accurately, so that no lever or crow can be introduced into the joint to raise them; in each of the slabs there is a hole cut in form of a hollow dove-tail, and into this hole a lewis is introduced when occasion requires that the tomb should be opened. In the construction of harbours, the lewis fixed in a large stone frequently serves to make fast the ropes which stay the cranes. The lewis is commonly used in the docks at L.ondon for fixing mooring-rings in the stone: the ring is easily removed when requisite, by unshipping the bolt of the lewis; for this and other reasons it is found more convenient to employ the lewis for fixing rings, than to run the ring-bolt into the stone with melted lead. The largest stones that have been wrought and moved by the industry of man occur in the buildings of the ancient Egyptians, but it is not ascertained whether their architects employed the lewis. Piranesi, in his Antichita di Roma, describes and figures lewis holes existing in the upper surface of the large stones of the tomb of Csecilia Metella at Capo di Bove, near Rome. The Jbrcipes Jerrei quorum dentes in saxa forata accommodantur, mentioned by Vitruvius, lib. x. cap. 2, denote a machine in

LEY the form of nippers, used to effect the raising of Lewis stones in the same way as the lewis ; but the words II seem to indicate a machine different in form from the -^yden* lewis. Piranesi also observed in some ancient unfi-' nished buildings, stones which appeared to have been raised by another method, namely, by knobs left on the front and side of the stone, to which knobs the ropes were attached. The knobs were taken off when the building was finished. Vasari relates, in his Account of Brunalesco, that the use of the lewis was revived in Italy by that architect, who was well skilled in mechanics, and who constructed the cupola of the cathedral church of Santa Maria del Fiore at Florence, about the year 1430; the first great cupola that was built in Europe, and which Michael Angelo had in view when he designed the cupola of Saint Peter’s. The lewis called Brunalesco’s is represented at fig. C. Plate XCIV. Leo Baptista Alberti, a Florentine architect, who lived in 1440, in his Treatise de Architectura, mentions the lewis by the Latin name of Impleola: he describes the side wedges as having the figure of the letter D, and from that form the machine had its Italian name Ulivella, that is to say, Little Olive. Philander of Chatillon, in his Commentary on Vitruvius, published at Rome in 1544, gives a figure of the lewis used at Rome in his time, which resembles that used in England, and represented at figure A. In the Archaeologicv, Vol. X, there is a description of holes observed in the crown of the keystones of the abbey church of Whitby, which was built about 1370, in the reign of Edward III. as is supposed. Ihese holes appear to have been lewis holes; they are of the form of an inverted Y, as represented at fig. D, where iv is the plan of the top of the hole, and 11 the plan of the bottom ; the lewis that fitted into these holes would resemble that represented at fig. E: these keystones at Whitby weigh about 1 i ton. LEYDEN (John), a celebrated linguist, antiquary, and poet, was born on the 8th of September 1775, at Denholm, a village on the banks of the Teviot, nearly opposite to Minto-house, in the parish of Cavers, and county of Roxburgh. His father was able to trace back his pedigree through a line of shepherds and husbandmen who had long occupied small farms on the estate of Douglas of Cavers, one of whom, Adam Ledan, in Little Cavers, a stern Presbyterian, had been denounced as a rebel in a royal proclamation in 1684. From his second to his sixteenth year, young Leyden lived with his parents in a retired cottage near the bottom of the “ stormy Ruberslaw,” where he was taught to read by his fathers mother, and where he had no companions except the inmates of that rustic dwelling, and no books except the Bible, and such other volumes as are commonly possessed by the Scottish peasantry. His chief delight in the years of childhood was to listen to the tales of martial adventure and supernatural agency, recited by a blind uncle of his mother, and to read such works as the Metrical Histories of Bruce and Wallace, the Poems of Sir David Lindsay, and the Arabian Nights' Entertainments. In his tenth year he went first to school at Kirktown, a distance of two miles from his father’s house, and

KLENOMETEK. LAMPS. LEWIS .

PLATE XCI\

J?nxf*byWHLitars dr l*

Fabh-M

ConstabU & C?E There can be no doubt, however, that the press is an instrument peculiarly adapted for the commission of injuries against reputation, and for effecting disturbance to the operations of government, while it has no peculiar adaptation for the commission of other offences. Here, too, it is equally certain there is the greatest disposition to restrain the press within improper limits. It is demanded of us, therefore, upon this part of the subject, to enter into greater detail. We are then to inquire, in the first place, what are the acts of the press with respect to private reputation ? and next, which are the acts with respect to government, which it is desirable that punishment should be employed to restrain ? Agreeably to the principles which have been al-Offences ot ready considered in the article Jurisprudence, no act can be regarded as an offence with respect to an individual, which is not a violation of some of Rights. his rights. In considering the rights which ought to be established with respect to reputation, one proposition may be assumed, that every man should be considered as having a right to the character which he deserves ; in other wrords, to be spoken of according to his actions. In w hat manner the definition of this right, which would form a part of the civil code, should be expressed, is not now the question; but it is evident that no peculiar difficulty belongs to it. As wrords, not thoughts, are the object of legal cognizance, the right can only have respect to security against certain words; —words imputing to the individual actions which he has not performed, or a disposition to actions, of which disposition there is no evidence. Suppose that one man has instituted a suit against another, for the offence of having violated, through the press, his right to all the reputation he deserves. In his ground of complaint he must affirm that the man has imputed to him either the performance of actions which he did not commit, or a disposition to certain actions, of which disposition no evidence can be given. The words are produced; and the first question is, whether they do or do not impute the actions w hich, in the complaint or bill of accusation, they are alleged to impute ? It is to be observed, that they who oppose the attempt to define the offences, which, for shortness, wTe call the offences of the press, make use of such occasions as this to raise their objections. How, they ask, can all the forms of expression be defined, by which the imputation of such and such actions may be either more openly, or more covertly conveyed ? It is very evident that the question on such an occasion, whether the words do or do not impute such 10

LIBERTY

OF

Liberty of or such actions, is a question of fact. The law says, the Press, that such and such actions shall not be imputed, defining the actions. Whether such and such a man has imputed such actions, either by one set of words or another, is a question of fact. The law, when it said that such and such acts should not be imputed to a man, could not determine whether A, who is accused by B of having imputed to him one of these acts, did so or not. That is to be determined by evidence bearing upon the fact. One, and in general the main article of that evidence, are the words which have been used. What is the import of these words ; or, which comes to the same thing, what is the degree of proof involved in them, is to be determined, as all questions respecting the weight of evidence are in each instance to be determined, by the tribunal before which the accusation is brought. The interpretation of words rests upon the same footing in this as in all other cases, that, for example, of a Will. The law determines that whatsoever disposition a man has made with respect to his property, shall take effect after his death. But whether A has left his manor of Dale to B, is a matter of fact to be determined by evidence applying to that particular fact; principally by that arising from the words of the will. It may still be argued by persons who do not easily renounce an opinion to which they have once given their support, that even the actions, the interpretation of which, or that of the disposition to which the legislature means to prohibit, cannot be defined. This, however, is a position which it is impossible long to maintain. Some actions it is hurtful, others it is not hurtful, to a man, if he is believed to have committed, or to have a disposition to commit them. Evidently it is by imputation of the first sort alone, that any right with respect to reputation can be infringed. The acts which a man receives injury from being believed to have committed, or to be disposed to commit, are either those to which the law has annexed penalties, or those to which the penalties of public disrepute and dislike are annexed. With respect to those acts to which the law has annexed penalties, as theft, murder, perjury, and so on, it will not be pretended that there is any difficulty ; the law has already defined them, or ought to define them, and they may be included with perfect precision in a few words. Those acts which it is hurtful to a man, solely on account of the disrepute and dislike which they produce, to have it believed that he has committed them, may also be with sufficient accuracy determined. The ends to be attained by punishment are, xeparation to the individual to whom injury has been done, and prevention of similar acts in future. In the idea of all punishment, effectual repaiation to the injured individual is a necessary and essential ingredient. Suppose, then, it were declared by the legislature, that the imputation falsely of all acts, hurtful to the person against whom the imputation is brought, by reason of the disrepute and dislike which attach to him by whom such acts are suppoVOL. V. PART II.

THE PRESS. sed to be committed, shall be punished at least by reparation to be made to the party injured; the v t word hurtful is to this purpose perfectly precise. It would remain with the complainant to show what kind and degree of injury he had received; which is a matter of fact, to be estimated in each instance from the evidence adduced, by the tribunal before which the question is brought. If the injury sustained is a pecuniary injury, the question coincides exactly with the question of damages, decided regularly, in English courts, as a question of fact by the jury. Injuries of the kind which we are now considering can affect a man only in two ways; either, as stated above, by lessening the pecuniary value which he might otherwise have enjoyed; or, secondly, by lessening the marks of respect and affection which he would otherwise have received. What the loss is, in this latter instance, is also evidently a question of fact. It has nothing, therefore, to do with the legal definition of the offence, the business of the legislature. It is a question, which, like all other questions of fact, must of necessity be determined upon evidence by the tribunal before which it is brought. It is no doubt a question of delicacy, and considerable difficulty, because the evidence must often consist of very fine and minute circumstances, which can seldom be precisely ascertained. But this is not the only class of judicial questions, the determination of which depends upon such evidence as it is very difficult accurately to collect and to weigh. What it is of greatest importance, on this occasion, to remark is, that all the difficulty lies in the matter of fact. There is no doubt or obscurity in the law, which says, that for whatsoever hurt a man has sustained through actions or dispositions falsely imputed to him, he shall receive compensation. Difficulties, however, arising either from the complexity of thfe matter of fact, or the obscurity of the evidence, no legislature enactments can prevent. _ These are committed to the skill and fidelity of the judge. One question for the legislature we have not yet considered; and that is, the compensation which can be made to a man for the diminution of those marks of respect and affection which he would otherwise have received. Let us suppose that a soldier has been accused of cowardice, in such a manner as to create a general belief of the truth of the accusa-^ tion; that a man of honour has been accused of mendacity, or of some of those irregular propensities to which the horror of the public is attached; it is evident that money is not an appropriate compensation for injuries thus received. When a man, through the offence of another, has been deprived of a certain amount of money, or of money’s worth, we say that he has received compensation, when he is placed in the same situation in which he would have been if the offence had not taken place. According to this idea of compensation, a man, against whom an unfavourable opinion has been cieated by the act of another man, has received compensation, when he is placed in the same situation with regard to the opinion of those with whom he is connected, as if that act had not taken place. This,

259 e

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260 L I B E R T Y O F Liberty of therefore, is the object which it ought to be the enthe Press. ^ t]eavour 0f t]ie legislature to effect. One expedient is perfectly appropriate. It is, that the man who has falsely propagated an unfavourable opinion with respect to another, should be made to do whatever is in his power to remove the impression he has made. To this end, he should publish the sentence of the judge, declaring that the action, or disposition which he had imputed to the individual injured, he had imputed to him falsely. He should at least be made to publish it in every way in which he had published the imputation. Frequently a more extensive publication might be required. In most cases, it will be allowed, that this much would suffice. It may, however, be affirmed, that often the impression would be too profoundly struck, to be effaced by a mere knowledge of the sentence of the judge. In such cases, something more in the way of compensation would be required. On this, it is of importance to be observed, that if the impression produced by an imputation, which, after solemn inquiry, the judge has declared to be false, should not, by that declaration, be completely effaced, it implies necessarily one of two things; either that the public have evidence of the truth of the accusation, which was not adduced to the judge, and then the remaining impression is not owing to the imputation Avhich the judge has condemned, but to the evidence ; or, secondly, that the public mind is in a state of gross ignorance and imbecility, capable of forming opinions, even on the clearest subjects, not only not according to evidence, but in opposition to it. If the public mind, however, is in such a deplorable condition, it is the fault of the legislature ; and for the rectification of this evil, the best course undoubtedly is, to take effectual measures for the instruction of the people, which instruction would soon place them beyond the danger of such contemptible as well as mischievous delusions. In the mean time, if something more than the publication of the sentence of the judge were necessary to restore a man to that degree of consideration of which the false imputation had deprived him, governments have numerous ways of raising the consequence of individuals ; and no legislature would be at a loss for a gradation of expedients suited to the scale of demand. We have now illustrated that part of this question which regards compensation to the injured individual. It remains to inquire what is best to be done in this case, for the attainment of the other object of punishment, namely, the prevention of similar offences in time to come. To devise a punishment sufficient to prevent an offence, is to provide a motive sufficient to counteract the motive which leads to the offence. We have hence to consider what are the motives by which men are incited to make false imputations on the characters of others. These motives maybe of three different sorts. A man may derive pecuniary profit, he may derive comparative distinction, or he may satisfy his desire of vengeance, by blackening the character of his neighbour.

THE PRESS. In the case in w hich a man has by calumny wrong- Liberty of fully intercepted the pecuniary receipts of his neigh-; the Fresghour, the obligation of making satisfaction to the party injured would, it is obvious, alone suffice, provided the machinery of the laws were sufficiently perfect, to render the execution of them certain. Seldom would any man calumniate his neighbour, for the sake of placing L.20 in his own pocket, if he were sure that next day, or next wreek, he would have to restore it, with all the profit which might have been made by the use of it, and with the disgrace besides of having committed an action which other men abhor. Sometimes, howTever, a man may derive pecuniary profit from calumniating persons whom he has not by that means deprived of any pecuniary advantage; by the sale, for example, of a slanderous publication; when the satisfaction due to the individual may not be of a nature to counteract the motive Avhich leads to the offence. The expedient in this case, also, is sufficiently obvious, and sufficiently simple. It is necessary to ascertain the whole of the gain which has been made by the offender, and to Like it away from him. This, together with the satisfaction which he ought to make to the injured individual, would, if it were certain, create a surplus of motive to abstain from the injurious act. In both of these cases, if the execution of the law is uncertain, an additional punishment may be necessary, sufficient to compensate for the chance of escape. The allowance to be made on this score must depend upon the imperfection of the laws; while one important fact is to be kept in remembrance, that as severity of punishment, beyond a certain point, is increased, certainty of execution is diminished. The true expedient, therefore, is to render the machinery of the laws so perfect, that the penalties which they denounce may always be sure of execution; and then hardly any tiling beyond compensation to the individual, and the abstraction of any additional gain which might have been made by the propagation of slander, would be necessary to repress all offences against the reputation of others, to which the motive was constituted by pecuniary gainThe two remaining cases are still more simple. If a man propagates a falsehood, for the sake of injuring the character of a man by whom his own consideration is eclipsed, it is only when he expects to obtain by that means a permanent advantage. If he knows that immediately the law will take its hold upon him; that he will be compelled to re-elevate the character of his neighbour, and to proclaim his own disgrace, he will see that, to attempt depressing the character of another man by calumny, is the very worst of all expedients, for giving a comparative elevation to his own. The same is the result in the case where vengeance constitutes the motive to injure the reputation of another. To render this proposition manifest, the most obvious illustration will suffice. No man, to gratify his malignity to another person, would kill his ox or his ass, provided he were sure that immediately he would be obliged to make him full satisfaction; and instead of injuring the man whom he hated, to injure only him12

LIBERTY OF Liberty of self. No, the rudeness and inefficacy of the law, the Press, holding out a chance of escaping the duty of making reparation, is the sole origin and cause of all offences of this description; and if the law were placed in a state but approaching perfection, hardly any thing beside the obligation of making satisfaction would be necessary to repress the -whole of this order of crimes. We have now made considerable progress in this important inquiry. We have ascertained, we think, with sufficient evidence, all that is necessary to be done for preventing injuries to the reputation of individuals ; provided the rights of reputation are, by the civil code, not made to extend beyond the boundaries of truth. Whether or not they ought to extend farther, and individuals ought to be protected from the disclosure of acts which they may have committed, is, we confess, a question highly worthy of solution ; upon which, therefore, before we proceed to any of the subsequent topics, we shall offer the following reflections. There can be no doubt that the feelings of the individual may be as painful, where actions of a disreputable nature are truly, as where they are falsely imputed to him. It is equally certain that no painful feelings ought to be wilfully excited in any man, where no good, sufficient to overbalance that evil, is its natural consequence. We have already shown, that reputation is injured by the imputation of acts of two different descriptions; first, those to which the law annexes penalties; secondly, those to which disrepute and the dislike of others are annexed. With respect to those acts to which the law annexes penalties, there is no room for uncertainty or dispute. Unless the law is a bad law, which ought to be repealed (this, we confess, constitutes an exception, and one, which, in very imperfect codes, extends a great way), the law ought not to be disappointed of its execution. The man who gives information against a murderer, or a thief, by the press, or without the press, renders a public service, and deserves not punishment but reward. It appears, therefore, that the question, whether a man ought to be protected from the imputation ot actions which he has really committed, refers solely to those acts which, without being punishable by the law, are attended with disrepute ; acts, in other words, which the members of the society disapprove and dislike. The prospect of the immediate and public exposure of all acts of this description, would be a most effectual expedient to prevent their being committed. Men would obtain the habit of abstaining from them, and would feel it as little painful to abstain, as at present it is to any well educated person to keep from theft, or those acts which constitute the ill manners of the vulgar. The fable of Momus has always been understood to carry an important moral. He found grievous fault that a window had not been placed in the breast of every man, by which, not his actions alone, but his thoughts, would have been known. The magnanimity of that Roman has been highly applauded, who not only placed his residence in such a situation that his fellow citizens

THE PRESS. might see as much as possible of his actions, but dedared a wish that he could render open to the eyes 1 of all his breast as well as his house. If the hatred and contempt of the people, therefore, were always rightly directed, and rightly proportioned ; if they never operated against any actions but those which were hurtful, either to the individual himself, or to others, and never, but in the degree in which they were hurtful, the case would be clear ; the advantage which would be derived from the true exposure of any man’s actions of any sort, would exceed beyond calculation the attendant evil. The great difficulty of insuring the practice of morality, in those numerous and highly important cases, to which the legal sanction, or the security of pains and penalties does not extend, consists in the want of a motive always present, and powerful enough to counteract the temporary motive which urges to the momentary offence. That motive almost every man would derive from his knowledge that the eyes were upon him of all those, the good opinion of whom it was his interest to preserve; and that no immoral act of his would escape their observation, and a proportionate share of their hatred and contempt. It is in this view that the aid of religion has been sometimes regarded as of importance to morality ; suggesting the idea of a high and constant observer. All motives, however, are feeble, in proportion as the pains and pleasures upon which they depend are distant, and vague, or uncertain. Divines agree with all other men in complaining of the trifling effect of religious motives upon the lives of the greater number of men. From the nature of the prospect on which these motives depend, they were necessarily as feeble as they have so often been described. Such is not the case with the motives arising from the sentiments which we know we shall inspire in the breasts of our fellow creatures. It is a matter of daily and incontrovertible experience, that these are among the most powerful which operate upon the human mind. The soldier rushes upon death, and endures all the hardships and toils of his cruel profession, that he may enjoy the admiration, and escape the contempt, of his fellow men. On what else is founded the greater part of all the pursuits of mankind ? How few, even of those who toil at the meanest occupations, but exert themselves to have something for show, something to make an impression upon the eyes of those who surround them? The very subject of the present inquiry derives from this source the whole of its importance. The value of reputation is, indeed, but another name for the value which we attach to the favourable and unfavourable sentiments of our fellow men. It is, however, true, that their unfavourable sentiments do not always fall where they ought, and this, we confess, is a consideration of the highest importance. It very often happens that men s antipathies are excited to actions from which no evil ensues, either to him who performs them, or to any body else. If any man derives a pleasure from such actions, it is to limit his sphere of innocent enjoyment, to debar him from them. And if the press exposes him to the antipathies, the hatred, and contempt of his fellowcreatures, on account of those actions, it produces

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262 LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. Liberty of an evil, uncompensated by the smallest portion is capable of contributing so much as the full exer- Liberty of the Press. gOOC}. If an Indian Brahman were known to cise of truth upon all immoral actions,—all actions, ^ie Presshave eaten, even when starving, a morsel of food the practice of which is calculated to lessen the'"*" which had been prepared by a Christian, the conse- amount of human happiness. According to this quences to him would be dreadful. Where the view, the justice of which it is impossible to disRoman Catholic religion is in vigour, a man who pute, the evil incurred by forbidding the declaration should indulge himself in animal food on forbidden of truth upon all immoral actions is incalculable. That days would be regarded with horror. The use of which would be incurred by the antipathies of miswine, however moderate, would render a Mahome- guided minds against actions innocent in themselves, nobody, we should imagine, would so much as think dan execrable to the whole of his tribe. This misdirection of the favourable and unfavour- of placing in comparison. In our own country, for example, the classes of able sentiments of mankind, in other words, this perversion and corruption of their moral sentiments, actions which, though they injure nobody, expose a has, in by far the greater number of instances, been man to the unfavourable sentiments of others, are the work of priests, contriving the means of increas- not numerous. The number of persons who would ing their influence. In some very important in- be exposed to inconvenience on account of the destances, such, for example, as the prejudices of birth, claration of truth, in regard to them, would be at one time so powerful in Europe, as to make in- small in comparison with those who would benefit effable contempt the lot of the low, the highest ve- by its declaration, in the case of all really hurtful neration that of the man of elevated birth, the per- acts. It is, indeed, important to be observed, that a version of the moral sentiments, is evidently the work of the aristocratical class, securing to them- comparative smallness of number is necessarily imselves a more easy dominion over the rest of their plied in the supposition of injury from any unfoundfellow creatures. It is, therefore, evident, that where ed antipathy. Those who share in the antipathy, of antipathies, religious or aristocratical, should prevail, course, abstain from the action. And unless the anthe press would be hurtfully employed in giving tipathy were so general as to include almost the notoriety to the facts which would expose a man to whole of the society, it would lose its injurious effect. Besides, all the injury which can be done to the operation of either. We have now ascertained the cases in which it the individuals against whom truth would in this would not be good that men should be protected manner operate injuriously, would be, to make them from the declaration of truth by the press, and also abstain from the acts which were thus condemned. Another thing to be considered is, that the whole the cases in which it would he good that they should of the evil arising from the exercise of truth is debe so protected. What, upon this view of the subject, would be pendent upon an accidental circumstance, capable of desirable, is sufficiently clear. It would be desirable being removed upon a mental disease, requiring to that, in the one set of cases, the declaration should be cured ; of which, of course, the legislature ought be allowed, in the other it should not be allowed. to undertake the case, and toward the cure of which Are the two sets of cases, however, capable of being truth is likely to operate as the most effectual of all expedients. If any considerable inconvenience were accurately distinguished ? If the comparison is made with any attention, it experienced from exposure to unfounded antipathies will not be difficult to determine that the evil to be by publications of truth, the groundlessness of these incurred by the loss of truth in the set of cases in antipathies could not fail to be so often canvassed, which the declaration of it wovdd be useful, is much and made to appear, that at last it would become greater than that which would arise from permitting familiar to the multitude, and the antipathies would the declaration in the cases in which it would be expire. It clearly, therefore, appears, that, if the cases in hurtful. In the first place, the set of cases in which the de- which the declaration of truth would expose to unclaration would be useful are much more numer- founded prejudices could not be clearly defined, and ous, and much more important, than those in which, separated from the cases in which the declaration in any tolerably civilized state of society, it would be would be salutary, the rule of permitting truth hurtful. Those in which it would be useful embrace ought to be universal. But though we perceive, the whole field of morality, all those acts, the per- that, to a considerable extent, there are cases, in reformance of which, on account of their singular im- spect to which it would be vain to hope for agreeportance, has been elevated to the rank of virtues. ment in drawing the line of distinction between Every body believes and proclaims, that the uni- what is hurtful and what is not, we are persuaded versal practice of the moral virtues would ensure that principles might be laid down in which all the highest measure of human happiness; no one would agree, and which would serve to mark out doubts that the misery which, to so deplorable a de- certain cases for exception with sufficient exactness. gree, overspreads the globe, while men injure men, If any such cases could be separated, either of acand instead of helping and benefiting, supplant, de- tions which, though injurious to nobody, excited anfraud, mislead, pillage, and oppress, one another, tipathies, or of facts, as those of birth, for which, would thus be nearly exterminated, and something though a man was in no respect worse, he might be better than the dreams of the golden age would be regarded as worse, the exercise of truth, with rerealized upon earth. Toward the attainment of this gard to them, might, on the express ground of these most desirable state of things, nothing in the world being actions innoxious, or facts which ought to be 11

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Liberty of of no importance in the estimate of human worth, the Press. }je forbidden, when injurious, under the penalty of Ht least making reparation for all the injury of which it had been the cause. Offences of We have now explained, we trust, with sufficient the Press clearness for the present occasion, the principles upto Gwen:-1 on which laws should be constructed for protecting mcnt. the rights of individuals against violations committed by the press. The first part of this inquiry, therefore, we must consider as completed. In the second part we have to explain the principles upon which they should be constructed for protecting the operations of government. This question involves a point which presents the appearance of considerable difficulty. In the first place, unless a door is left open to resistance of the government, in the largest sense of the word, the doctrine of passive obedience is adopted; and the consequence is, the universal prevalence of misgovernment, with the misery and degradation of the people. In the second place, unless the operations of government, instituted for the protection of rights, are secured from obstruction, the security of rights, and all the advantages dependent upon the existence of government, are at an end. Between these two securities, both necessary to obtain the benefits of good government, there appears to be such a contrariety, that the one can only be obtained by the sacrifice of the other. As this difficulty, however, arises chiefly from the largeness of the terms, a close inspection of the cases which they involve, and which they have a tendency to confuse, will enable us to discover the course which it belongs to practical wisdom to pursue. It is necessary, first of all, to ascertain what sort of obstructions are inconsistent and what are not inconsistent, with the operations of government, which are necessary for the protection of rights. The application of physical force to resist the government in applying, to the execution of the laws, the physical power placed at its disposal by the law, is such an obstruction of the operations of government as would, if frequent, render it inadequate to the ends which it is provided to secure. Ihis application of force, therefore, must be treated as an offence ; and any thing proceeding from the press, tending directly to produce it, as a similar offence. This proposition requires to be illustrated. I he application of physical force which is here desciibed, and treated as an evil, is clearly distinguishable from that resistance of government which is the last security of the many against the misconduct of the few. This is an application of physical force to obstruct the operations of government in detail; the proceedings, for example, of a court of justice; the proceedings of the legislative organ, or the proceedings of any of the administrative functionaries, m the execution of the duties with which they are charged. This is not that species of resistance which is necessary in the last resort to secure the people against the abuse of the powers of government. This last is not a resistance to the operations of government in detail. It is a resistance to all

T HE PRES S. 263 the powers of government at once, either to with- Liberty of draw them from the hands in which they have hi- ^ie *>ress‘ therto been deposited, or greatly to modify the terms upon which they are h£ld. Even this last species of resistance it may be necessary to punish, at least in a certain degree, whenever it is not successful; that society may not be disturbed by frequent commotions, in the motives to which, the majority of the people do not partake. This, however, is a question which belongs to the penal code in general, and does not concern the inquiry into the offences capable of being committed by the press: because we think it may be satisfactorily shown, that no operation of the press, however directly exhorting to this species of resistance, ought to be treated as an offence. The reason is, that no such exhortation can have any immediate or formidable effect; can, indeed, have any effect at all, except through such mediums as ought to be at all times perfectly free. Suppose that a work is published, exhorting the people in general to take arms against the government, for the purpose of altering it against the consent of its rulers. The people cannot take arms against the government without the certainty of being immediately crushed, unless there has been already created a general consent. If this consent exists in such perfection as to want nothing to begin action but an exhortation, nothing can prevent the exhortation, and forbidding it is useless. If the consent does not exist in nearly the last degree of perfection, a mere exhortation, read in print, can have no effect which is worth regarding. In all circumstances, therefore, it is useless, and consequently absurd, to treat this species of exhortation as an offence. If, on the other hand, it were clearly recognized, that every man had a licence to exhort the people to the general resistance of the government, all such exhortations would become ridiculous, unless on those rare and extreme occasions in which no prohibitions and no penalties can or ought to prevent them. The doctrine of this paragraph, which will appear somewhat startling and paradoxical to minds accustomed only to a certain train of ideas, will receive illustration, and _ we trust will be amply confirmed as we proceed. Having mentioned this as a grand exception, we now return to the cases in which not only physical force applied to obstruct the operations of government, but the publishing of exhortations to that obstruction, ought to be treated as an offence. 1 hese relate solely, as above remarked, to the operations of government in detail. Obstructions, it is evident, may be offered to the operations in detail of a government which possesses and deserves the fullest confidence of the community at large, and the press may be employed in directly and efficiently exciting to these obstructions. A hand-bill, for example, may be distributed in a morning, which, operating upon an inflamed state of mind, in a narrow district, may excite a mob to disturb the proceedings of a court of justice, to obstruct the officers of law, police, or government, in the execution of their duties, or to disturb, on this or that occasion, the deliberations of the legislature itself. These are clearly hurtful acts; they may be very

LIBERTY OF 264 Liberty of accurately defined ; and penalties, of moderate sevethe Press. r-ty^ -would i)e sufficient to deter from the performance of them. The obligation of the offending party to make satisfaction to the party injured, would often, in offences of this description, be excluded, because there would be no definite party to whom an injury would be occasioned. It would only be necessary to ascertain the sorts of motives by which such offences would be liable to be produced, and to apply skilfully, as in other cases, motives of an opposite tendency, sufficient to counteract them. This would not be more difficult in this than in other cases, and it is not, therefore, necessary to explain at any length the mode of performing it. One principle is to be carefully and most religiously observed, that of not imposing an atom of punishment for the purposes of vengeance. This is a principle, the justness and importance of which are so completely recognized, that we might have expected to be relieved ere now from the necessity of recommending attention to it. The fact, however, is, that so long as there are abuses in govei'nments, so long will the men who have the means of profiting by those abuses, exert themselves to multiply the list of offences against government, and to apply to them punishments of the greatest severity. Punishments for contempt of court; punishments to vindicate the honour of the court, of the government, of the magistracy ; punishments for the support of dignity ; punishments severe in proportion as the dignity of the party offended is supposed to be high, and so on, are punishments almost always applied for purposes of vengeance, or the protection of the instruments of abuse. They are punishments, therefore, which will be rigidly excluded from a code which wisely and steadily pursues the general good. What the sort of acts are, to which the exhortations of the press ought not to be applied, has been so far ascertained. The next point is, to determine with accuracy what sort of exhortation it is that ought to be forbidden. To all those who profit by the abuses of government, that is, more especially to all those who, in a defective government, wield any of its powers, it is of great importance to leave, as undefined as possible, the sort of exhortation that ought to be forbidden. The point of greatest importance to them is, to keep the people at large from complaining, or from knowing or thinking that they have any thing of which to complain. If this grand object is fully attained, they may then, without anxiety, and without trouble, riot in the pleasures of misrule. There is no limit to the degree in which the feAV may pursue their own advantage at the expence of the many. There can be nothing, therefore, in which they have a greater interest, than preventing the press from being employed in any such way, as will lead the people to think that they have any thing, on the part of their rulers, of which to complain. All artifices possible will be sure to be employed to effect that prevention. And if it is enacted, that exhortations to acts which obstruct the operations of government in detail should be punished, without defining accurately what sort of exhorta-

THE PRESS. tions, they will easily find expedients which, to a Liberty ot great extent, will accomplish their purpose. Under the sort of constructions which it will be their interest to apply, every thing which can be done by the press, to make the people know or believe that there is any thing in the system of their government, or the conduct of their rulers, of which they have to complain, may be treated as an exhortation to obstruct the operations of government. Of these constructions, our experience affords innumerable examples. Does not the imputing of defects to the government, or misconduct to those who wield the powers of government, tend to bring both “ into hatred and contempt ?” And if the people hate and contemn the institutions and rulers of their country, will they not oppose their operations ? The imputing of these faults, therefore, is it not, in essence and effect, an exhortation to oppose the operations of government ? And are we to be governed, in our legislature, by the mere forms in which a set of words may appear, and not by our knowledge of their nature and consequences ? This is not only exceedingly plausible, but almost all the propositions which it involves are perfectly true. It is thus, therefore, the more easy to establish such a mode of interpreting an indefinite law of the press, as will prevent, or where the people cannot yet bear a total prevention, will go far towards preventing whatever can lead the people to believe that any thing is amiss in the manner in which they are ruled. There are two species of exhortations, one the explicit and direct, the other implied and constructive. In the one, a particular act is pointed out, and the party, or parties, addressed are called upon to perform it. In the other, certain grounds only are laid, from which the opinion of the addresser may be inferred, more or less certainly, that the act ought to be performed. With respect to the first, there is no occasion for doubt. A direct and explicit exhortation to commit one of those acts described above, as obstructing the operations of government in detail, should be treated as an offence. The precise question is, whether any exhortation, which is only implied and constructive, should be considered an offence ? In the answer to this question, almost every thing which relates to the use of the press in matters of government, will be found to be involved. We have already divided the subject of resistance to government into two parts; first, that general resistance, the object of which is, some great change in the government at large; and, secondly, resistance to this or that of its operations in detail. We have already adduced an argument, which appears to us to be conclusive, to show, that no exhortation, whether explicit or implied, direct or indirect, the object or tendency of which is to produce the first species of resistance, ought to be subject to legal restraint. It is necessary here to enter a little more fully into the grounds of that opinion. We think it will appear, with sufficient evidence, that in the way of indirect exhortation to resistance.

LIBERTY OE Liberty of that is, in laying the grounds of dissatisfaction with the press^ government, there is no medium between allowing every thing and allowing nothing; that the end, in short, which is sought to be gained, by allowing any thing to be published in censure of the government cannot be obtained, without leaving it perfectly free to publish every thing. The end which is sought to be obtained by allowing any thing to be said in censure of the government, is to ensure the goodness of the government, the most important of all the objects, to the attainment of which, the wisdom of man can be applied. If the goodness of government could be ensured by any preferable means, it is evident that all censure of the government ought to be prohibited. All discontent with the government is only good, in so far as it is a means of removing real cause of discontent. If there is no cause, or if there is better means of removing the cause, the discontent is, of course, an evil, and that which produces it an evil. So true it is, however, that the discontent of the people is the only means of removing the defects of vicious governments, that the freedom of the press, the main instrument of creating discontent, is, in all civilized countries, among all but the advocates of misgovernment, regarded as an indispensable security, and the greatest safeguard of the interests of mankind. For what is meant by a vicious government ? or wherein do the defects of government consist ? Most assuredly they all consist in sacrificing the interests of the many to the interests of the few. The small number, in whose hands the powers of government are in part directly, in part indirectly placed, cannot fail, like other men, to have a greater regard for what is advantageous to themselves, than what is advantageous to other men. They pursue, therefore, their own advantage, in preference to that of the rest of the community. That is enough. Where there is nothing to check that propensity, all the evils of misgovernment, that is, in one word, the worst evils by which human nature is cursed, are the inevitable consequence. (See the article Government.) There can be no adequate check without the freedom of the press. The evidence of this is irresistible. In all countries, the people either have a power legally and peaceably of removing their governors, or they have not that power. If they have not that power, they can only obtain very considerable ameliorations of their governments by resistance, by applying physical force to their rulers, or, at least, by threats so likely to be followed by performance, as may frighten their rulers into compliance. But resistance, to have this effect, must be general. To be general, it must spring from a general conformity of opinion, and a general knowledge of that conformity. How is this effect to be produced, but by some means, fully enjoyed by the people, of communicating their sentiments to one another? Unless where the people can all meet in general assembly, there is no other means known to the world of attaining this object to be compared with the freedom of the press. It is, no doubt, true, that in countries where the

THE PRESS. 265 liberty of the press is unknown, evil governments Liberty of are frequently overthrown. This is almost always the Preesaccomplished by the military force, revenging some _ —1 grievance of their own, or falling in with some heat and animosity of the people. But does it ever enable them to make a new government, in which any greater security is provided for their interests than there was before ? In such cases, the people get rid of one set of rulers, whom they hate, only to obtain another set, with equal powers of doing them injury. There are, however, we believe, some people who say, that though the liberty of the press is a necessary instrument to attain good government, yet, if it is fairly attained, and if legal and peaceable means are in the hands of the people of removing their governors for misconduct;—if the people of England, for example, really chose the members of the House of Commons, and renewed their choice so frequently as to have the power of removal after a short experience of misconduct, the freedom of the press would be unnecessary. So far is this from being true, that it is doubtful whether a power in the people of choosing their own rulers, without the liberty of the press, would be an advantage. It is perfectly clear, that all chance of advantage to the people from having the choice of their rulers, depends upon their making a good choice. If they make a bad choice—if they elect people either incapable, or disinclined, to use well the power entrusted to them, they incur the same evils to which they are doomed when they are deprived of the due control over those by whom their affairs are administered. We may then ask, if there are any possible means by which the people can make a good choice, but the liberty of the press ? The very foundation of a good choice is knowledge. The fuller and more perfect the knowledge, the better the chance, where all sinister interest is absent, of a good choice. How can the people receive the most perfect knowledge relative to the characters of those who present themselves to their choice, but by information conveyed freely, and without reserve, from one to another ? There is another use of the freedom of the press, no less deserving the most profound attention, that of making known the conduct of the individuals who have been chosen. This latter service is of so much importance, that upon it the whole value of the former depends. This is capable of being rigidly demonstrated. No benefit is obtained by making choice of a man who is well qualified to serve the people, and also well inclined to serve them, if you place him in a situation in which he will have motives sufficient to serve himself at their expence. If any set of men are chosen to wield the powers of government, while the people have not the means of knowing in what manner they discharge their duties, they will have the means of serving themselves at the expence of the people ; and all the miseries of evil government are the certain consequences. Suppose the people to choose the members of the Legislative Assembly, with power of rechoosing, or dismissing, at short intervals: To what desirable end

266 LIBERTY OF THE PRESS. Liberty of could these powers be exercised, without the liberty what they do. It remains to inquire, by what other Liberty of the Press. 0f the press ? Suppose that any one of those whom acts the press can be made to contribute to the same ' y -1L they have chosen has misconducted himself, or pro- desirable end. What is wanted is, that all the people, or as many moted, as far as depended upon him, the ends of misgovernment, how are the people to know that the of them as possible, should estimate correctly the powers with which they had entrusted him had been consequences of the acts proposed or done by their representatives, and also that they should know what treacherously employed ? If they do not know, they will rechoose him, and acts might have been proposed, if the best were not that as cordially as the man who has served them proposed, from which better consequences would with the greatest fidelity. This they are under a de- have followed. This end would be accomplished plorable necessity of doing, even to be just; for, as most effectually, if those who are sufficiently enlightthey know no difference between him and the best, ened would point out to those who are in danger of it would be on their part iniquity to make any. The mistakes, the true conclusions; and showing the consequences would be fatal. If one man saw that weight of evidence to be in their favour, obtain for he might promote misrule for his own advantage, so them the universal assent. How is this to be accomplished ? In what manner would another; so, of course, would they all. In these circumstances, we see laid the foundation on are those wise men to be chosen ? And who are to which, in every country, bad government is reared. be the choosers ? Surely it is evident the object canOn this foundation it is impossible that it should not not be attained. There are no distinct and indubibe reared. When the causes are the same, who can table marks by which wisdom, and less by which inexpect that the effects will be different ? It is un- tegrity, is to be known. And who is to be trusted necessary to dwell upon these fundamental truths, be- with the privilege of pointing them out ? They whose cause they have already been developed in the article judgment requires to be directed are not well qualified to determine who shall direct them. And if the Government. Without the knowledge, then, of what is done by rulers are to choose, they will employ those only who their representatives, in the use of the powers entrust- will act in uniformity to their views, and enable them ed to them, the people cannot profit by the power of to benefit themselves by the pillage and oppression choosing them, and the advantages of good govern- of the people. As there is no possible organ of choice, no choice ment are unavailable. It will surely not cost many wox*ds to satisfy all classes of readers that, without whatever ought to be made. If no choice is to be the free and unrestrained use of the press, the requi- made, every man that pleases ought to be allowed. All this is indubitable. The consequences of denysite knowledge cannot be obtained. That an accurate report of what is done by each ing any part of it are so obvious, that hardly any of the representatives, a transcript of his speeches, man, we suppose, will risk the imputations to which' and a statement of his propositions and votes, is ne- such a denial would justly expose him. They who say that no choice ought to be made, cessary to be laid before the people, to enable them to judge of his conduct, nobody, we presume, will say, in effect, that no limit whatsoever ought to be deny. This requires the use of the cheapest means imposed upon the liberty of the press. The one of of communication, and, we add, the free use of those these propositions is involved in the other. To immeans. Unless every man has the liberty of publish- pose any restraint upon the liberty of the press uning the proceedings of the Legislative Assembly, the doubtedly is to make a choice. If the restraint is people can have no security that they are fairly pub- imposed by the government, it is the government lished. If it is in the power of their rulers to per- that chooses the directors of the public mind. If any mit one person, and forbid another, the people may government chooses the directors of the public mind, be sure that a false report,—a report calculated to the government is despotic. Suppose that, by the restraint imposed upon the make them believe that they are well governed, when they are ill governed, will be often presented liberty of the press, all censure of the government is forbidden, here is undoubtedly a choice. The goto them. One thing more is necessary, and so necessary, vernment, in this case, verbally says, the people who that, if it is wanting, the other might as well be want- might attempt the task of directing the public mind ing also. The publication of the proceedings tells are of two sorts; one that of those who would cenwhat is done. This, however, is useless, unless a sure, another that of those who would not censure: I choose the latter. correct judgment is passed upon what is done. Suppose that not every censure, but only such and We have now brought the inquiry to this important point; In the article Government, we have seen such kinds of censure, are forbidden, here, again, is that, unless the people hold in their own hands an still a choice, while confessedly there is no party to effectual power of control on the acts of their go- whom the power of choosing for the rest can with safevernment, the government will be inevitably vicious. ty be given. If not every censure, but only some censures, are We have now seen, that they cannot exercise this control to any beneficial purpose without the means to be forbidden, what are those to which the prohibiof forming a correct judgment upon the conduct of tion should extend ? The answer to this question their representatives. We have likewise seen, that will elucidate nearly all that yet remains in any deone of the means necessary to enable them to judge gree obscure, of the doctrine of the liberty of the correctly of the conduct of their representatives, is press. It will not be said that any censure which is just the liberty to every body of publishing reports of

LIBERTY OF Liberty of should be forbidden; because that would undoubtedthe Press, jy to ^etract from the means of enabling the people to form correct judgments; and we have, we trust, rendered it indisputable that no source of benefit to society is at all to be compared with that of correct judgments on their government and its functionaries, formed among the people, and determining their actions. But what censures are just and what are unjust; in other words, what are the conclusions which ought to be formed respecting the properties and the acts of the government, is exactly the point to be determined. If you say that no man is to pass an unjust censure upon the government, who is to judge ? It is surely unnecessary to repeat the proof of the proposition, that there is nobody who can safely be permitted to judge. The path of practical wisdom is as clear as day. All censures must be permitted equally, just and unjust. Where various conclusions are formed among a number of men, upon a subject on which it would be unsafe, and therefore improper, to give to any minor portion of them a power of determining for the rest, only one expedient remains. Fortunately, that is an expedient, the operation of which is powerful, and its effects beneficial in the highest degree. All the conclusions which have formed themselves in the minds of different individuals, should be openly adduced ; and the power of comparison and choice should be granted to all. Where there is no motive to attach a man to error, it is natural to him to embrace the truth; especially if pains are taken to adapt the explanation to his capacity. Every man, possessed of reason, is accustomed to weigh evidence, and to be guided and determined by its preponderance. When various conclusions are with their evidence, presented with equal care and with equal skill, there is a moral certainty, though some few may be misguided, that the greater number will judge aright, and that the greatest force of evidence, wherever it is, will produce the greatest impression. As this is a proposition upon which every thing depends, it is happy that the evidence of it should be so very clear and striking. There is, indeed, hardly any law of human nature more generally recognized, wherever there is not a motive to deny its existence. “ To the position of Tully, that if Virtue could be seen, she must be loved, may be added,” says Dr Johnson, “ that if Truth could be heard, she must be obeyed.” {Rambler, No. 87.)— “ Je vous plains, mes Peres,” says Mons. Pascal to the Jesuits, “ d’avoir recours a de tete remedes. Vous croyez avoir la force et 1 impurite mais je crois avoir la verite, et I’innocence. C est une etrange et longue guerre que celle ou la violence essaie d’opprimer la verite. Tons les efforts de la violence ne peuvent affoiblir la verite, et ne servent qu’a la relever davantage: toutes les lumieres de la verite ne peuvent rien pour arreter la violence, et ne font que I’irriter encore plus. Quand la force combat la force, la plus puissante detruit la moindre: quand 1’on expose les discours aux discours, ceux qui sont veritables et convainquants confondent et dissipent ceux qui n’ont que la vanity et le menVOL. v. PART II.

THE PRESS. 267 songe.” {Lett. Provinc. 12.)—“ Reason,” saysBurke, hibe£ty of “ clearly and manfully delivered, has in itself a tnc reI > mighty force; but reason, in the mouth of legal au- r v -™1J thority, is, I may fairly say, irresistible.” {Lett, on Regicide Peace.) It is of importance to show how many of the greatest men, of all ages and countries, have borne testimony to the prevalence of true over false conclusions, when both are fairly offered to the human mind. “ Truth,’’ says Mr Locke, “ certainly would do well enough, if she were once left to shift for herself. She seldom has received, and I fear never will receive, much assistance from the power of great men, to whom she is but rarely known, and more rarely welcome. She is not taught by laws, nor has she any need of force to procure her entrance into the minds of men.” {Letter on Toleration.) The following is the emphatical language of Montesquieu: “ La raison a un empire nature!; elle a meme un empire tyrannique : on lui resiste, mais cette resistance est son triomphe, encore un peu de temps, et Ton sera force de revenir a elle.” {Esp. de Loix, ]. 28, ch. 88.)—“ It is noted out of Cicero, by Machiavel, that the people, though th'ey are not so prone to find out truth of themselves, as to follow custom, or run into error; yet if they be shown truth, they not only acknowledge and embrace it very suddenly, but are the most constant and faithful guardians and conservators of it.” {Harrington.)— “ The labour of a confutation,” says Chillingworth, “ I have not in any place found such labour or difficulty, but that it was undertakeable by a man of very mean abilities; and the reason is, because it is Truth I plead for; which is so strong an argument for itself, that it needs only light to discover it.” {Religion of Protestants.)—“ About things on which the public thinks long,” says Dr Johnson, “ it commonly attains to think right.” {Life ferent degrees of intensity of the blue colour of the t _L,. sky. Some are of opinion, that this colour depends on the colour of the mass of air which forms the atmosphere ; others maintain, that it arises from the darkness of space seen through the interposed atmosphere. The blue colour of the sky increases in intensity from the horizon to the zenith, and is particularly intense when seen from the elevated parts of the Alps, because in that situation there are few terrestrial vapours mixed with the air, and it is the white colour of these vapours which renders the blue less intense in lower situations. For the purpose of estimating and noting its intensity, it is compared with different tints of blue painted on a card, as described under the article Cyanometer. See Essai d’optique sur la gradation de la lumiere, par Bouguer; and Voyage de Humboldt—Relation hisiorique, Chap. III. p. 251. (y.) LUS, a district in the eastern part of the Persian province of Mekran. It is of a circular form, and bounded on three sides by an immense range of mountains. The face of the country is flat and sandy, producing abundant crops of every species of grain. There are four passes through the mountains, two of which lead into Sinde, one into Mekran, and one into Balouchistan. The present chief. Jam Meer Mahomed Khan, can bring into the field 4000 irregular troops, and draws a revenue of 50,000 rupees. The different towns and districts are governed by petty chiefs, independent in their district, though owning the supremacy of Mahomed Khan. The capital is Bayla, but the chief maritime port is Sommeany. Lus is supposed to be the country of the ancient Oritae.—Edinburgh Gazetteer, or Geographical Dictionary.

M A L MALUS (Stephen Lewis), the discoverer of the Laws of the Polarisation of Light, bom at Pans, 23d June 1775, was the son of Anne Lewis Malus du Mitry, and of Louisa Charlotte Desboves, his wife. „ t, His father had a place in the Treasury of France, and gave him an excellent education at home m mathematics and in the fine arts; as well as in classical literature, with which he rendered himself: so farmliar, as to retain many passages of the Iliad in memory throughout his life. At seventeen he was admitted, after a severe examination, as a pupil ol the School of Military Engineers; and about the same time he amused himself with writing a regular tragedy in verse on the death of Cato. He soon distinguished himself in his military studies, and he was about to obtain a commission as an officer, when an order of the minister Bouchotte imputed to him the offence of being a suspected person, probably on acVOL. V. PART II.

307-

count of the situation held by his father, and he was dismissed from the school. He was then obliged to enter the army as a private soldier in the 5th battalion of Paris, and he was employed in this capacity on the fortifications of Dunkirk. Here he was soon distinguished by Mr Lepere, the director of the works, as superior to his accidental situation j and he was selected as one of the young men who were to constitute the members of the Ecole Polytechnique, then to be established upon the recommendation and under the direction of Monge, who immediately chose him, from a previous knowledge of his merit, as one of the twenty that were to be made instructors of the rest. This body constituted, at that moment, the only refuge of the sciences in France, and the enthusiasm of its members was proportionate to the advantages which they enjoyed, and to the importance of the trust committed to them. In the thrfee years which he passed in this institution, he was rr

308 Malus.

M A L much employed, among other applications of the higher geometry, in pursuing the mathematical theory of optics, a department of science in which he was afterwards so eminently to distinguish himself by experimental discoveries. He was then, however, obliged to abandon for a time the pursuit of scientific investigations, and he was admitted into the corps of engineers, with the seniority of his former rank in the school. He served in the army of the Sombre and Meuse ; he was present at the passage of the Rhine in 1797? and at the affairs of" Ukratz” and Altenkirch. While he was in Germany, he formed an engagement with Miss Koch, the daughter of the Chancellor of the University of Giessen, and he was on the point of marrying her, when he was obliged to join the Egyptian expedition. He was present in that campaign, at the battles of Chebrei's, and of the Pyramids ; he was at the affair of Sabish, at the siege of El Arish, and at that of Jaffa. After the surrender of that place, he was employed in the repairs of the fortifications, and in the establishment of military hospitals. Here he was attacked by the plague, and fortunately recovered from it without any medical assistance. He was then sent to fortify Damietta; he was afterwards at the battle of Heliopolis, at the affair of Ceraim, and at the siege of Cairo. After the capitulation with the English, he embarked on board of the transport Castor, and arrived in France the 26th October 1801. His health was exhausted, and his spirits were broken, by fatigue and anxiety; but his attachment to his betrothed bride was undiminished, and he hastened to Germany to fulfil his engagement: his fidelity was rewarded, during the eleven years that he survived, by the most constant and affectionate attention on the part of his wife; and she died a year or two after him, a victim to the same disease which had been fatal to her husband. He had, however, enough of strength and vigour of constitution remaining, to enable him, besides the official superintendence of the works carrying on at Antwerp and at Strasburg, to pursue the study of his favourite sciences; and upon occasion of a prize question, proposed by the Institute, he undertook the investigation of the extraordinary refraction of Iceland crystal, which the experiments of Dr Wollaston had lately shown to agree very accurately with the laws laid down by Huygens; and besides completely confirming all Dr Wollaston’s results, he had the' good fortune greatly to extend the Huygenian discovery of the peculiar modification of light produced by the action of such crystals, which Newton had distinguished by the name Polarity, and which Mai us now found to be produced in a variety of circumstances, independently of the action of crystallized bodies. It seems natural to suppose that the investigation of the laws of the internal reflection of light, at the second surface of the crystals, must have led him to the discovery of the effects of oblique reflection in other circumstances; but according to Biot, there was more of accident in his actual progress ; for he informs us that Malus had been looking through a piece of crystal at the image of the sun, reflected from the windows of the Luxembourg, to the house in the Rue d’Enfer, where he lived.

M A L and that he was much surprised to find one of the Malus. double images disappear in a certain position of the crystal; although the next day, at a different hour, he could no longer observe the phenomenon, from the alteration of the angle of incidence. The merit of his discovery was soon acknowledged by his election as a Member of the Institute, as well as by the adjudication of a Biennial Medal from the Royal Society of London, on the foundation of Count Rumford. It has been thought creditable to the Royal Society to have conferred this distinction in the time of a war between the two countries; but if any credit were due for only doing justice conscientiously, it would attach, on this occasion, to those members of the Council, who saw their own optical speculations in great danger from the new mass of evidence, which appeared likely to overthrow them, at least in the public opinion, and who were still the most active in offering this tribute of applause to the more fortunate labours of a rival. Nor was the remuneration of Malus confined to empty honours only; he obtained promotion, from the liberality of the French government, in his oivn ‘profession as a military man; and this not for services performed in the field, nor even in a difficult and dangerous expedition to unknown regions, but for experiments made with safety and tranquillity in his own closet. That government had not carried the refined principle of the division of labour so far, as to have resolved that all public encouragement should be limited to the precise department in which a public service had been performed; and a mark of distinction, which a gentleman could accept without degradation, was not deemed an incommensurate remuneration for a discovery in abstract science. Such a refinement, which has been practically introduced in our own matchless country, might appear, to a man who had a heart, something worse than sordid ; he might fancy that a great nation, as well as a great individual, should treat its dependents, " not according to their deserts, but after its own honour and dignityif, however, a person in office happened to have any thing like a heart about him, the outcry of an indiscriminating opposition would soon teach him to silence its dictates. 1. Mr Malus’s first publication appears to have been a paper On cm unknown branch of the Nile, in the first volume of the Decade Egyptienne. 2. He presented to the Institute a mathematical Traite d’optique, before the completion of his experiments on double refraction ; it was published in the Memoires presentes a I’lnstitut, II. 4. Paris, 1810. 3. His more important discoveries were first made known in the second volume of the Memoires d’Arcueil, 8. Paris, 1809 ; and again, 4. in the Theory of double refraction. Mem. pres, a I’Inst. II. a paper which obtained a prize the 2d January 1810. 5. In a short Essay on the measurement of the refractive force of opaque bodies, contained in the same volume, he employs the method, before made known by Dr Wollaston, for conducting the experiment, and computes the forces concerned upon the Newtonian hypothesis ; applied, however, in a manner somewhat arbitrary to the circumstances of the problem. 6., Remarks on some new optical phenomena. Mem. Inst. Sc, 1810,

Malus

M A L p i05, Paris, 1814, read 11th March 1811.

This

Malwah. paper is principally intended to prove that two por^ tions of light are always polarised together in opposite directions, and that no part of the light concerned is destroyed, “ as Dr Young had been inclined to suspectthe author found that light transmitted obliquely through a number of parallel glasses at a proper angle, becomes at last completely polarised. Mr Arago had discovered a case which appeared to be an exception to the general law of the polarisation of transmitted light, but it was afterwards readily explained from the theory of the production of colours by interference, as applied to transmitted light. A letter, containing the substance of this paper, was published in Thomson’s Annuls, III. 257, Apr. 1814, on occasion of some discoveries of Dr Brewster, which had been supposed to be wholly new. 7. On phenomena accompanying refraction and reflection, p. 112; read 27th May, showing the universality of polarisation at a proper angle, and examining the effect of a metallic surface. 8. On the axis of refraction of crystals, p. 142 ; describing an apparatus for finding the properties of bodies with respect to polarised light, applied to the determination of the axis of crystals, and to the examination of the structure of organized bodies, which appear in general to have certain axes of polarisation, as well as those which are manifestly crystallized. The zeal and energy of Malus supported him to the last, not only in the continuance of these interesting investigations, but also in his duties as an examiner at the Ecole Poly technique. He died, 24th February 1812, universally regretted by the lovers of science in all countries, and deeply lamented by his colleagues, who said of him, as Newton did of Cotes, that if his life had been prolonged, we should at last “ have known something ” of the laws of nature. (Delambre, M. Inst. 1816, P. XXVII. Biot in Biographic Universelle, XXVI. 8. Par. 1820.) (t. v.) MALWAH, an extensive province of Hindostan, situated principally between the 22d and 23d degrees of northern latitude. On the north it is bounded by the provinces of Ajmeer and Agra, on the east by Allahabad and Gundwaneh, on the south by Khandeish and Berar, and on the west by Ajmeer and Gujerat, being in length about 250 miles, and in breadth 150. Till very recently, the whole of this territory was in the occupation of the Mahrattas, the capitals of Dowlet Row Sindea and Holkar being both in it, and within 30 miles of each other. Malwah is a very elevated region, as numerous rivers have their sources in it, and descend in every direction. The principal of these are the Narbudda, Chumbul, Sopra, and Cane. The land is, however, extremely fertile, the soil being in general a fine black mould, which produces cotton, opium, sugar, indigo, tobacco, and all the various grains of India, besides furnishing pasture for numerous herds of cattle, flocks of sheep, &c. Like Bengal and some other provinces, it has two harvests, the first or superior ending in April, the second or inferior in October. The tobacco, particularly that of the district of Bilsah, is highly esteem-

MAR 309 ed, and carried to all parts of the country. The Malwah other articles of its produce are sent to Guierat,.. N Broach, or into the eastern provinces, by the rivers v , which communicate with the Jumna. Bickermajeet, one of the most celebrated rajahs of Hindostan, of whom there is any authentic history, reigned over Malwah; he overran many of the other provinces, and compelled their princes to pay him tribute, and acknowledge him as their lord paramount. Such was his fame, that the Hindoos have adopted his reign as one of their eras. It commenced 57 years before the birth of Christ. His capital was situated about a mile to the northward of Oujain, and bore the same name. This province was conquered by the Mahometans in the middle of the thirteenth century ; but on the death of the emperor Balin, in 1286, the governor Dilavur Khan rebelled, and laid the foundation of an independent kingdom, which lasted upwards of 170 years. Their capital was Mundu, a very extensive city, situated in the hills, 20 miles south of Oujain. Malwah was subdued, and its capital taken by the Mogul emperor Homayon, in the year 1534, and remained annexed to the empire of Delhi till after the death of Aurungzebe in 1707, when it was invaded, and by degrees taken possession of by the Mahrattas; by whom it was divided into several portions among the chiefs, according to the gradual progress of their arms, which has caused such an intermixture of their territories, that it is extremely difficult to discriminate them. The ancient landholders, called Grassiah, still retain possession of some of the hill forts, and exact contributions from the adjoining districts ; and a portion of the southern part of the province was till lately held by the Pindaree chiefs, whose incursions into the British dominions brought on the lateMahratta war.-— Edinburgh Gazetteer, or Geographical Dictionary. MARMONTEL (Jean Francois), a celebrated French writer, was born in 1723 at the picturesque village of Bort, in the Limousin, in a family little removed above the rank of peasantry. Like many other distinguished literary men of France, he owed the early part of his education to private charity and gratuitous public institutions. His parents destined him for trade; but his love for study induced him to assume the clerical habit, and to obtain admittance into the Academy of the .Jesuits at Clermont. While there he procured a subsistence, by acting, during his leisure hours, as a private tutor to some of the more opulent students. He then went to Toulouse, where he delivered lectures in philosophy with considerable reputation, and gained an academical prize. His disappointment as to another prize opened for him a correspondence with Voltaire, which finally led to his departure from Toulouse for Paris, where he obtained the personal acquaintance of his illustrious correspondent, who at that time extended the most friendly encouragement to all young men possessed of any talents for poetry. At the time of Marmontel’s arrival in the capital, in 1745, the prizes proposed by the Academy opened up one of the shortest roads to literary distinction, and one eagerly pursued by those who were ambitious of celebrity. Marmontel, like many others.

310 MAR Marmontel. commenced his career of letters by gaining a prize ^ —■ y mm* for a poem on a subject proposed by the French Academy—The glory of Louis XIV. perpetuated in his successor. But in that age the theatre afforded the most ample field for the acquisition of wealth and eminence. All talent was in a manner forced into that direction, and was often recompensed with extravagant liberality. In order to qualify himself for dramatic composition, he commenced an assiduous study of the best critical works on the subject, which he borrowed from Voltaire; he obtained free admission to the French theatre, which he regularly attended ; and he frequented the Procoper Coffee-house, which was then the tribunal of criticism, and the school for young poets to study the humour and taste of the public. His first tragedies, Dionysius and Aristomenes, obtained a reception sufficiently flattering for a youthful poet; but they did not keep their ground on the stage, and his succeeding ones, Cleopatra, the Heraclides, and Numitor, had no success whatever. La Harpe, who was a great dramatic critic, condemns them all as bad, except the Heraclides, which he calls a tolerable tragedy of the second rank. In fact, Marmontel does not appear to have been endowed with any talents for poetry, at least of the higher order, either in point of poetical conception or the mechanical construction of verse. It is also evident, from his Reflexions stir la Tragedie, published at the end of his Aristomenes, that he had formed, at least in the early period of his life, the most unfounded and paradoxical theories with regard to the rules of dramatic composition. Hence his plots have, for the most part, but little interest; his dialogue is full of puerile common-places ; and his versification is cold and constrained. The plot of Dionysius hinges on the conspiracy of Dion against the Sicilian tyrant, and the love of the younger Dionysius (who, in defiance of all historical truth, is represented as a paragon of virtue) for the daughter of Dion, whose character is formed on the model of the heroines of Calprenede and Scuderi. The plots of Aristomenes and Nutnitor are, for the most part, of his own invention, and are both sufficiently extravagant. In the Heraclides he has followed the well-known tragedy of Euripides as his guide. At his first interview with Voltaire, Marmontel had been assured by him, that by the stage he might in one day obtain glory and fortune, and that one successful piece would render him at the same moment rich and celebrated. The prediction was verified ; and from the instant at which his first tragedy appeared, he, who had not money to pay the person who brought water to his lodgings, and who lived on credit with his baker and green-grocer, was at once plunged into all the bustling intrigue of the first literary circles, and into all the glare and dissipation of fashionable society. His time was occupied with rehearsals and parties of pleasure; he was

MAR received as the favoured lover of the most celebrat- Marmontel. ed actress of the age, Mademoiselle Clairon ; and in another intrigue in which he engaged he became the rival of Marshal Saxe. In order to shun the resentment of so formidable a rival, he retired for some time to Passy, the country seat of the rich and sumptuous financier, Popliniere, who had married his mistress, and kept open house for all the idle and dissipated literateurs of the age. By flattering the king in some occasional verses, which he wrote while residing here, he obtained the powerful patronage of Mad. de Pompadour, w'ho procured for him the situation of Under Secretary of the Royal Buildings. This employment fixed his residence at Versailles for five years, which were passed wholly free from inquietude, and are often alluded to by him as the happiest period of his life. The duties of his situation occupied him two days in the week, and the remainder of his time was employed in contributing articles to the Encyclopedic, of which his friends D’Alembert and Diderot were the Editors. These articles, which contain many ingenious theories, mixed with strange paradoxes, were afterwards printed together, in alphabetical order, under the general title of Elements de Litterature. * Having been engaged about the same time in writing on the subject of comedy, andsearching into nature for the rules and means of the art, this study led him to examine if it were true, as was then often said, that all the great strokes of ridicule had been seized by Moliere and the dramatic poets who followed him. In running over the canvass of society, he perceived that, in the inexhaustible combinations of follies and extravagancies of all conditions of life, a man of genius might still find sufficient employment. He had even collected some observations to propose to young poets, when his friend M. de Boissi, who at the time conducted the Mercure de France, requested him to supply some pieces in prose, to insert in that literary Journal, from which Marmontel derived a considerable pension. It occurred to him to employ, in a tale, one of the touches of ridicule in his collection ; and he chose, by way of essay, the absurd pretension of being loved merely for one’s self. This was exhibited in the first of his Moral Tales, entitled Alcibiade ou Le Moi. The story was much admired, and was by some attributed to Montesquieu, and by others to Voltaire. Its success induced him to write other tales of a similar description ; and thus commenced the Contes Moraux, which were subsequently collected and printed by themselves. Many of these tales, on which the fame of Marmontel principally if not solely rests, bear reference to the original idea with which they commenced, being for the most part intended to expose some absurdity or extravagance of character. Thus the second displays the folly of those who exert authority in order to bring a woman to reason ; and he chose, for example of this, a sul-

* M. de Chapsal has extracted from the Elements de Litter ature every thing that related to eloquence, and placed the remarks not in alphabetical order, but in that of the subject. This work, which is intended to form a manual of French rhetoric, is entitled Principes d'Eloquence de Marmontel extraits de ses Elemens de Litterature et mis en ordre. Paris, 1809.

MAR Marmontel. tan and his slave, as being placed in the two extremes In most of them he has 0f power and dependence. reached a very happy imitation of nature, in the manners and language; and it is only to be regretted that he has occasionally thrown a too glittering varnish over conceptions of the most beautiful simplicity. As lively pictures of French manners, both simple and fashionable, they are admitted to be unrivalled. The early part of the life of Marmontel was passed amid scenes of rural innocence, with a family which lodged in a cottage, and subsisted by the labour of their hands ; the remainder of his days was spent in the most brilliant and refined society which Paris or the world afforded, exhibiting the most splendid union of literary talents, with all the polish of exalted rank, and the graces of female elegance. This enabled him to succeed in scenes and characters which were extremely remote, and, indeed, contrasted to each other—in the delineation of the innocent pleasures of the country, as well as the rivalships, whims, and levities, of gay or splendid life. The Shepherdess of the Alps, which has been the most popular of them all, and Les deux Infortunees, are as distinguished tor simple and touching pathos as the great proportion are for liveliness. The style is remarkable for facility, and the ease with which it inclines, in pursuing the course of events, to the ludicrous or pathetic. After the death of M. de Boissi, Marmontel obtained the patent and sole management of the Mercure, of which he had long been the chief support. On receiving this appointment, he resigned that which he held at Versailles, and fixed his residence at Paris, in apartments assigned to him in the house of Mad. Geoffrin. He appears to have conducted the Journal of which he had charge with great ability and judgment. Few periodical works have appeared more diversified, more attractive, or more abundant in resources; and many who afterwards came to hold the highest rank in French literature were first introduced through it to the favour of the public. After he had conducted it, however, for turn years, he became suspected of writing a satire against some powerful nobleman. He was, in consequence, shut up for a few days in the Bastile, and on his release, was deprived of his agreeable and lucrative situation. But this misfortune did not discourage his literary exertions. Soon after he had recovered his freedom, he translated into prose the Pharsalia of Lucan, of which he was a great admirer. He also added to it a supplement, in which he details the events of Caesar’s war in Africa, and concludes with his last campaign in Spain. The French have at all times been great dealers in prose translations of the Classics. But though the shape in which Marmontel exhibited the Pharsalia can never convey an adequate idea of the original, his work is more agreeable to read than the turgid poetical version ol Brebeuf, by which it was preceded. About the same time at which he completed the translation of the Pharsalia, he published his Poetique Frangoise, containing observations extracted from the various articles which he had furnished for the Encyclopedic. It is divided into two parts, the first expounding the elementary principles of

511 MAR poetry, and the second applying them to its differ- Marmontel. ent sorts. Being about this period seized with a disorder in the chest, which had proved fatal to both his parents, he resolved to devote his remaining days to the composition of a Romance, or fiction of the higher order. The subject he chose was Belisarius, suggested to him by a print he possessed from the celebrated picture of Vandyck. The fact on which his tale is founded was rather a popular tradition and opinion than a historical truth. But the belief had so universally prevailed, and the idea of a blind old man reduced to beggary had been so closely associated with the name of Belisarius, that it possessed all the advantages essential for the purposes of historical romance. In other particulars, the author relied on the faith of history, and Procopius chiefly was his guide. On its first appearance, in 1767, Belisaire attracted universal attention. The first seven chapters, describing the journey of the old blind hero to the village where his family resided—his arrival there, and the visit paid to him by Justinian, in bis humble habitation, are possessed of an interest almost dramatic, and are composed in a higher tone of eloquence than any thing else which he has written. But those which follow are almost entirely destitute of incident, and are just so many separate lectures on different branches of government and politics delivered by Belisarius to Justinian. In the course of these dissertations, there are evidently many references to political incidents, and the system of French politics pursued in the middle of the seventeenth century. The last chapter, on religious toleration, involved the author in a dispute with the Sorbonne, who published a censure on it, which was opposed by the arguments of Turgot, and by the epigrams and squibs of Voltaire. Though Belisarius cost its author many sleepless nights, he recovered during its composition from the disorder which had excited him to the undertaking, and he sometime after produced his Incas of Peru, dedicated to Gustavus King of Sweden. Irritated as he was by the recent anathemas of the Sorbonne, his great object in this new romance was to show, that all the evils inflicted by the Spaniards on the Indians had their origin in that fanaticism which he was desirous to bring into still deeper detestation. In Fernando de Luquez and Vincentio Requelme he has given a sort of personification of fanaticism in its most hideous form, and has contrasted their characters with that of Las Casas, which is intended as a model of the exalted piety and tempered zeal most becoming in a Christian. In the history on which this romance is founded, Las Casas had given a tremendous picture of the atrocities committed by the Spaniards in Peru, and of the sufferings of its inoffensive inhabitants. The pencil of Marmontel had scarcely sufficient strength to paint the determined courage, rapacity, debauchery, and remorseless cruelty of the soldiery let loose on the Indians, nor the desperate characters of the adventurers at their head, who knew no law but the sword, and whose sole object was plunder. In painting Indian scenes of innocence, tranquillity, and peace, he has been more

312 MAR Marrnontel. fortunate. But he has unluckily abandoned the simplicity, which charmed so much in h\s Moral Tales, for a tone too highly rhetorical; and there is a want of unity of interest from the multiplicity of episodes. The longest is that of the Conquest of Mexico, related to the Inca by some refugees from that country, and who had come all the way to Quito, apparently for no other purpose than to tell their long story. In 1763, Marmontel had been admitted, though after considerable opposition, to the much envied place of a member of the French Academy, and, in 1783, he succeeded D’Alembert as its perpetual secretary. The situation of Historiographer of France, and the Chair of History in the Lyceum, which he successively obtained, fully indemnified him for the loss of the Mercure. He was in the full enjoyment of affluent circumstances, domestic felicity, and literary reputation, when the French Revolution suddenly changed the scene. During its alarming progress he led a retired life, and though reduced to indigent circumstances, remained secure amid all the violent events of the period. In 1797, he was chosen a deputy to the National Assembly by the department of Eure, but died soon afterwards, of an apoplectic attack, at his cottage near Abbeville. Several of his pieces were published after his death. The Nouveaux Contes Moraux, which were inserted in the Mercure, had been extracted from that journal, and translated into English soon after their first appearance: but they were not printed apart in their original language till after the demise of the author. This second series is inferior in delicacy, grace, and beauty of style, to the former; but the scope and tendency of the stories is more strictly moral. On account of his situation as Historiographer of France, Marmontel had thought it a duty incumbent on him to write some historical work. The period he chose was the Regency of the Duke of Orleans, which he commenced in 1784; but though he completed it four years afterwards, it was not given to the public during his life. This work is not such, either in point of accuracy of facts, or enlightened general views, as might have been expected from the time occupied in its composition, the materials which his situation opened up to him, or the pompous account which he himself gives of his access to information : “ All the great men,” says he, “ of the age opened to me the repositories which contained documents on my subject. The Count de Broglio initiated me into the mysteries of his most secret negotiations, and Contades traced to me, with his own hand, the plan of his campaigns, and particularly of the battle of Minden.” The most interesting part is the last chapter, containing the relation of some particular incidents which occurred during the regency, as the plague at Marseilles, and the visit of the Czar Peter to France. The Posthumous Memoirs of Marmontel, drawn up in his declining years for the instruction of his children, and edited in 1804, from a MS. in his own hand-writing, are among the most amusing volumes of the description ever presented to the public. They commence with the author’s earliest youth : the portion which comprehends this period of his lile is

MAR written in the happiest style of his Moral Tales, and Marmontel. contains many interesting anecdotes of humble innocence, many animated sketches of domestic happiness, and many agreeable traits of village society. In the succeeding part, the portraits of the most distinguished characters, in the most brilliant age of France, are delineated with so much life, discrimination, and delicacy, and every thing is sketched with a colouring so light and aerial, that the whole representation is exquisite. There is scarcely a single person of note in France whose likeness is not exhibited in this vast gallery,—the pictures of Voltaire, D’Alembert, Marivaux, Thomas, St Lambert, and Helvetius, are all excellent. The society which Marmontel frequented was probably the most refined and brilliant that had ever assembled together; but there was evidently a restraint, a desire of exhibition, and want of ease in its intercourse. ,f Every guest,’* says Marmontel, “ arrived ready to play his part; in Marivaux, impatience to give proof of acuteness and sagacity was visibly betrayed; Montesquieu, with more calm, waited till the ball came to him, but he expected it; Helvetius, attentive and discreet, sat collecting for a future day.” Literary fame was enjoyed in France in its greatest extent, but also in its greatest anxiety. Of all the others, Voltaire had gained the most brilliant literary success ; yet of him Marmontel remarks, that his glory was too dearly paid by the tribulations to which it had exposed him. It had been said by Mad. Genlis, that Marmontel, in his Moral Tales, showed gross ignorance of the French manners and character, in representing the higher classes, particularly of females, as so voluptuous, and in many cases abandoned; but the Memoirs, if they record the truth, unhappily confirm his representations. When so much amusement is derived from his minute descriptions, it is perhaps hypercritical to remark, that some petty circumstances, of no general interest, and which might have been better thrown into the back-ground, are brought too much out on the canvass, and are drawn in disproportioned magnitude. But for these details, he states as his apology, that it is for his children he writes the history of his life, and that those things which may appear too minute to strangers, will prove interesting and useful to them. The concluding volume, containing a sketch of the first events of the Revolution, is confused and imperfect. Its incidents were too gigantic for the grasp of his mind, and he appears to have been dizzied and stupified by the rapid whirl and total subversion which he witnessed. An author by profession, the literary character of Marmontel may be fully appreciated from his various and numerous productions. Though he admits that, while he has given the portrait of others at full length in his Memoirs, he has only painted himself in profile; yet from them his private character may be correctly enough estimated. On a review of these, it has been remarked, “ That without great passions, or great talents, he seems to have had a lively imagination, a pliant and cheerful disposition, and a delicacy of taste and discrimination, of still greater value in the society which fixed his reputation. Although good tempered and social, he 8

M A R Marmontel seems to have been, in a good measure, without II heart or affection ; or rather the dissipated and senMaske yne. guaj devoted himself after his reto " moval to Paris, appears to have obstructed in him the growth of all generous and exalted feeling. In society he was joyous and easy; gay, without affecting to dazzle; and ingenious, without intolerance or fastidiousness.” (m.) MASKELYNE (Nevil), a most industrious and accurate astronomer, born in London, 6th October 1732, was the son of Edmund Maskelyne, Esq. a gentleman of respectable family of Purton in Wiltshire. He was sent at the age of nine to Westminster School, and continued to apply with diligence to the usual pursuits of that place, until the occurrence of the great solar eclipse of 1748, which made a strong impression on his mind, and which was the immediate cause of his directing his attention to astronomy, and of his beginning the study of the mathematics w'ith great ardour, as subservient to that of astronomy. It is remarkable, that the same eclipse is said to have made an astronomer of Lalande, who was only three months older than Maskelyne. Pie soon after entered as a member of Catherine Hall, Cambridge, but shortly removed to Trinity. He took a degree as Bachelor of Arts with great credit in 1754, and proceeded regularly afterwards through the succeeding stages of academical rank in divinity. He was ordained in 1755 to a curacy at Barnet, and the next year obtained a fellowship at Trinity. In 1758 he was elected a Fellow of the Royal Society, having previously become intimate with Dr Bradley, and having determined to make astronomy the principal pursuit of his life, feeling its perfect compatibility with an enlightened devotion to the duties of his own profession. In 1761 he was engaged by the Royal Society to undertake a voyage to St Helena, in order to observe the transit of Venus. He remained ten months in the island, but the weather prevented his observing the transit to advantage, and the faulty attachment of the plumb-line of his quadrant, wdiich was of the construction then usually employed, rendered his observations on the stars less conclusive with respect to annual parallax than he had expected. His voyage was, however, of great use to navigation, by promoting the introduction of lunar observations for ascertaining the longitude; and he taught the officers of the ship which conveyed him the proper use of the instruments, and the mode of making the computations. He performed a second voyage, in 1763, to the island of Barbadoes, in order to determine the rates of Harrison’s watches, and to make experiments with Irwin’s marine chair, on board of the Princess Louisa, Admiral Tyrrel, acting at the same time as chaplain to the ship. The chair he found of very little use for observing the eclipses of Jupiter’s satellites, and the maker of the chronometers was not satisfied with his report of their performance ; fancying that he was too partial to the exclusive employment of lunar observations for determining the longitude. The liberality of the British Government, however, bestowed on Harrison the whole reward that he claimed; and Maskelyne, having been appointed to the situation of

MAS 313 Astronomer Royal, and having thus become a mem- Maskelyne ber of the Board of Longitude, was extremely active in obtaining a few thousand pounds for the family of Professor Mayer, who had computed lunar tables, and a compliment of L.300 only for Euler, whose theorems had been employed in the investigation. The merits of Mayer’s tables having been fully established, the Board of Longitude was induced to promote their application to practical purposes, by the annual publication of the Nautical Almanack) which was arranged and conducted entirely under Maskelyne’s direction for the remainder of his life. He was also actively employed, without any other motive than the love of science and of his country, in almost every decision which was required of the Board of Longitude; and he had to give his opinion of the merits of an infinite number of fruitless projects which were continually submitted to his judgment. He must of course have made many enemies among the weak and illiberal; but the universal impartiality, and the general accuracy of his determinations, were acknowledged by all candid pex*sons; and it must be admitted that the longitudinary speculators of Great Britain do in general submit to discouraging remarks from persons in authority with wonderful fortitude, and with great personal civility. During the forty-seven years that he held the situation of Astronomer Royal, he acquired the respect of all Europe by the diligence and accuracy of his observations, which he never neglected to conduct in person whenever it was in his power, and he required only one assistant. The French had'a handsome building to amuse the public by its exterior magnificence, but the establishment of the observers was never arranged in so methodical a manner as that of the English National Observatory, and the fruits of their labours were never systematically made public ; the attempt which was once made by Lemonnier, in his Histoire Celeste, having been interrupted and discontinued. Dr Maskelyne, on the other hand, obtained leave from the British Government to have his observations printed at the public expence, under the direction of the Royal Society, who are the legal visitors of the Observatory, appointed by the King’s sign manual. The early observations of Flamsteed and Bradley were considered as private property: Flamsteed published his own, and Bradley’s were very liberally bought of his family, and afterwards printed by the University of Oxford, who are still as liberal in bestowing them where they are likely to be employed for the benefit of science. Flamsteed was the Astronomer Royal from 1690 to 1720; then Halley to 1750; Bradley to 1762, and Bliss to 1765, when Maskelyne was appointed. He took his doctor’s degree in 1777. He made several improvements in the arrangement and employment of the instruments, particularly by enlarging the slits through which the light was admitted ; by making, the eye-glass of his transit telescope moveable to the place of each of the wires of the micrometer; and above all, by marking the time to tenths of a second, which had never been attempted before; but which he found it practicable to effect with surprising accuracy, as the comparison of the

314 MAS Maskelyne. observations at the different wires sufficiently demonstrated. The object of his expedition to Shehallien is well known. Bouguer had made an unsuccessful attempt to measure the attraction of a mountain in South America, and had been obliged to conclude that the mountain was hollow, in consequence of the eruption of a volcano, the attraction being too little sensible. Dr Maskelyne’s results, on the other hand, as computed by Dr Hutton, made the mountain more dense than could well have been expected; but those who are acquainted with the difficulty of executing astronomical measurements without an error of a single second of space, will be ready to allow that the deviation of 5" or 6", attributed tp the effect of the mountain, is liable to a much greater proportional uncertainty than the results obtained by Mr Cavendish with the apparatus invented by Mr Michell. (See Cavendish.) The geodetical operations which were soon afterwards performed with his concurrence and assistance, for determining the relative situations of Greenwich and Paris, were equally creditable to the English artists who constructed the instruments, and to the astronomers and geographers who made the observations with them ; and they excelled, even by the confession of their rivals, every thing that had ever been effected in former measurements of the same kind. As no man had done more for practical astronomy than Dr Maskelyne, so there was none whose merits were more justly appreciated. He made every astronomer his friend, as well by his personal kindness, as by his professional labours ; and he obtained the rare distinction of being made one of the eight foreign associates of the Parisian Academy of Sciences. His example and encouragement contributed to the establishment of several private observatories, which must always be, if not immediately, at least remotely, beneficial to astronomy, as tending to promote the improvement of instruments, and of the methods of employing them. He wras modest, and somewhat timid, in receiving the visits of strangers; but his usual conversation was cheerful, and often playful, with a fondness for point, and for classical allusion. He inherited a good paternal property, and he obtained considerable preferment from his college; he also married, somewhat late in life, the sister and co-heiress of Lady Booth of Northamptonshire. His sister was the wife of Robert Lord Clive, and the mother of the present Earl of Powis. He died the 9th of February 1811, in his 79th year, leaving a widow and an only daughter. 1. Dr Maskelyne’s first communication to the Royal Society is A proposal for discovering the annual parallax of Sirius. Phil. Trans. LI. 1760. p. 889 It is founded on Lacaille’s observations, made at the Cape of Good Hope, which appeared to indicate a maximum amounting to 8". 2. A theorem for spherical aberration. LIE 1761. p. 17. Dated from the Prince Henry, St Helen’s Roads : the calculation is adapted to the object-glasses of achromatic telescopes. 3. The next article, p. 21, is a letter from Lacaille, recommending him to make observations at St Helena on the lunar parallax, and to remain some

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time in the island for that purpose; promising, on his Maekelyne. own part, to make corresponding observations. It^— is followed by a Letter from Maskelyne, proposing some additional joint observations. 4. Observation of the transit o/1761, p. 196. The sun was lower than had been expected, and the instant of contact uncertain, from a tremulous motion in the apparent discs. 5. Observations on a clock of Sheltoti, 1762, p. 4*341. Giving the proportion of .99754 to 1 for the comparative force of gravity at Greenwich and at St Helena. 6. A letter on the mode (f observing and computing lunar distances, p. 558. Dated from St Helena : the first demonstration of the practicability and utility of the method. He found the error of observation not to exceed half a degree of longitude, an error which was very strangely suffered to remain as a fair allowance for the uncertainty of observation, in the acts for encouraging the perfection of the lunar tables, only very lately repealed. 7. On the tides at St Helena, p. 586. Observations made in a harbour, for about two months. 8. Noteto Lalande, p. 607. On lunar distances and occultations. 9. Rules for correcting lunar distances. Phil. Trans. 1764, p. 263. A demonstration of the rules before published in the Transactions and in the British Ma» riners Guide. 10. Remarks on the equation of time, p. 336. Correcting a mistake of Lacaille, and an inadvertence of Lalande, and giving a formula, which, though not geometrically perfect, is abundantly accurate for all practical purposes. 11. Astronomical observations made at St Helena, p. 348. The observations for determining the lunar parallax were too few to afford a satisfactory result. The author suggests, that the figure of the earth might be ascertained by repeated and comparative observations of the apparent distance of the moon from neighbouring stars. 12. Observations made at Barbadoes, p. 189. Especially on Jupiter’s satellites. 13. Introduction to two papers of Mr Smeaton. LVIII. 1768, p. 154. The one on the menstrual parallax, the other on observing stars out of the meridian. 14. Introduction to the observations of Mason and Dixon, p. 270. 15. Conclusion respecting the length of a degree, p. 323, 325. Mr Charles Mason had been sent with Mr Dixon to observe the transit of 1761, at Bencoolen, but their voyage was interrupted by accidental circumstances, and they made their observations at the Cape of Good Hope, with tolerable success. They then proceeded to join Maskelyne at St Helena, and to assist in his operations there. , They were afterwards engaged by Lord Baltimore and Mr Penn, to determine the boundaries between Maryland and Pennsylvania ; and having completed their survey, they suggested to the Council of the Royal Society the eligibility of measuring a degree in the country bordering on the Delaware and Chesapeake. Their proposals were readily accepted, and the results of their measurement are here recorded. Dr Maskelyne afterwards employed Mason, in his operations on Shehallien, and in computing Bradley’s observations, and in improving Mayer’s tables, by a comparison with them; but he was so fearful of admitting any empirical corrections, not founded on the most general principles, that he would not allow some of the equations, discovered by Mason, to be intro12

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Maskelyne. duced into the computation of the Nautical AU be observed, has been more lately shown by Dr Maskelyne maiiac, until Laplace had proved their depend- Young and Dr Wollaston. 29- Account of an ap- MauJitius. ance on the theory of gravity. Lalande tells us, pearance of light on the dark part of the moon, 1793, p. that Mason was dissatisfied because he did not re- 429. Seen by Mr Wilkins, and by a servant of Sir ceive a public reward for the success of his labours; George Booth, and supposed to have arisen from a but he was, in fact, little more than the agent of volcano. 30. Observations of the comet of 1*193, Ph. Maskelyne, and of the Board of Longitude ; and he Tr. 1794, p. 55. Discovered by the Rev. E. Grewas fairly repaid for the time and labour which his gory of Langar, in Nottinghamshire. 31. The earliest of Maskelyne’s separate publicacomputations had required. Delambre says, that he died in Pennsylvania in 1787. Dixon is said to have tions was his British mariner’s guide, 4. Lond. 1763. been born in a coal mine; and to have died at Dur- A small volume, which has become scarce, having ham in 1777. 15. Postscript respecting French and been superseded by later works. 32. The nautical almanac and astronomical epheEnglish measures, p. 325. The result of this comparison agrees admirably well with the later measure- meris for 1767 appeared in 1766; and the publicament of Pictet, Prony, and Captain Kater. 16. Ob- tion has been regularly continued upon the same servation of the transit o/'1769, made at the Royal Ob- plan to the present time, by the computers and comservatory, p. 355. 17- Eclipses and occultations, 1769, parers whom Dr Maskelyne had trained by his inp.399, chiefly for the longitude of Glasgow. 18. struction and example. His successor in the ObserOn the use of Dolland's micrometer, 1771» P- 536. On vatory, though admirably qualified to equal, and perthe application of the divided object-glass microme- haps to excel him in the practical department, had it ter to determining diffex*ences of right ascension and not in his power to devote so much of his attention of declination, especially in the case of transits. A to the publication, as Dr Maskelyne’s paternal affecpart of the instructions sent with the observers to the tion for a child of his own had induced him to bestow South Seas. 19. On the adjustment of Hadley s qua- on it: and the Board of Longitude was very liberaldrant, 1772, p. 99. Especially for the back obser- ly furnished by the present ministry, with the means vation ; and to insure the parallelism of the glasses. of obtaining some further assistance to supply his 20. Heine’s rule for measuring heights, 1774, p- 158. place. 33. Tables requisite to be used with the nautical alAdapted to English measures, and rendered somewhat more convenient. 21. Observations at Green- manac, 8. Lond. 1766, 1783, 1802. Now partly suwich and in America compared, p. 184, 190. 22. perseded by Professor Lax’s new edition. 34. The volume of Selections, Irom the additions Proposal for measuring the attraction of a hill, 1775, p. 495. Read in 1772. 23. Observations made on that have been occasionally made to the Nautical alShehallien, p. 500. A paper which obtained its au- manac, 8. Lond. 1812, contains several papers of Dr thor the honour of a Copleian medal. Mason had Maskelyne. For example. Instructions relating to been sent to examine the hills of Scotland, and had the transit of Venus in 1769, N. A. 1 /69* Elements recommended Shehallien; the funds were supplied of lunar tables, and Remarks on Hadley’s quadrant, by the remainder of the royal grant for observing N. A. 1774. Advertisement of the comet expected in the transit of Venus. Mr Reuben Burrow and Mr 1788, N. A. 1791. On the disappearance of SaMenzies were principally employed in assisting the turn’s ring in 1780, N. A. 1791. 35. The Astronomical observations made at GreenAstronomer Royal in his observations and surveys; and Dr Hutton afterwards made the necessary com- wich, from 1765 to 1811, were published annually putations for determining the attraction of the moun* in folio ; making three volumes, and part of a fourth, tain. 24. Description of a prismatic micrometer, 1777, Lond. 1774.... They are allowed to constitute the p- 799- Consisting of one or more prisms sliding in most perfect body' of astronomy in detail that was the axis of the telescope ; and resembling in its ope- ever presented to the public. The first volume conration that of Rochon, which has in great measure tains a variety of useful tables, accompanying the obsuperseded it. 25. On the longitude of Corh, 1779, servations for 1772; and principally serving for the p. 179. Observations for correcting the computed correction of the places of the stars, and tor facilitimes of the eclipses of Jupiter’s satellites. 26. On tating the solution of other astronomical problems. the comet expected in 1789, Ph- Tr. 1786, p. 426. Many of them have been reprinted in Yince s AstroSupposing those of 1532 and 1661 to be the same. nomy ; but, in some cases, without the necessary ex(See Mechain.) 27- On the latitude and longitude planations. [(Kelly in) Rees’s Cyclopedia. Art. Maskelyne. of Greenwich, 1787, p. 151. With Cassini’s memoir on its uncertainty, which he states as amounting to Chalmers, Biographical Dictionary, XXL 8. Lond. 11" in longitude, and 15" in latitude. Dr Maske- 1815. Delambre, Mem. Inst. Sc. 1811, H. lix.; and lyne, however, shows that it is confined within much in Biographic Universelle, XXVII. 8. Par. 1820.] (n. a.) narrower limits, though he approves of the object of MASON (Charles), an able astronomer. See the memoir in promoting a survey. 28. On a difficulty in the theory of vision, 1789, p. 256. rl his pa- Maskelyne. MAURITIUS. We have little to add to the acper sufficiently proves, that Euler was mistaken in thinking the eye achromatic; and that any appear- count of this island contained in the Encyclopaedia, ance of colour which it could produce, according to except what is derived from the accounts given ol the common laws of refraction, would be impercep- it by Captain Flinders, and the official documents tible in ordinary circumstances. But that there are from the public offices since it has become a British circumstances, under which such appearances may possession. ss VOL. v. PART 11.

316 Mauritius.

M A U The expedition for its conquest was planned in India, and executed with considerable talent and arrangement. The forces were collected from various parts of India in the middle of the year 1810; they rendezvoused at the island of Rodriguez in October of that year, and landed on the eastern side of Mauritius the latter end of December, without any opposition. The capital is strongly defended on the sea side, but towards the land its defences are weak, from their great extension. When the troops were landed they were not opposed on their march by any corps of the enemy, and had only the asperities of a mountainous country to overcome. On reaching the capital, in which all the military strength of the colony was concentrated, and where a respectable defence was expected, preparations were made for storming it, which were rendered needless by a flag of truce being sent. A capitulation followed, and the surrender of the capital, the forts, and the whole island, was executed on the 4th January 1811. By the peace of Paris, in 1814, the full and perpetual sovereignty of this valuable settlement was ceded to Great Britain, and has continued under the colonial system of his Majesty’s other distant possessions, independently of the control of the East India Company. The extent of this island is about 31 leagues in circumference, being 11 leagues in length, and 7 in breadth. Its surface contains 432,600 British statute acres. The north-west part is level, but the north-east is covered with mountains of various heights, from 2700 to 3150 feet. The scenery in the mountainous parts is highly picturesque, exhibiting lofty rocks, deep ravines, and impetuous cascades. The south-west part is an extended mountain plain, whose mean height above the level of the sea is about 1500 feet, and where a more mild and temperate climate is enjoyed, than in the capital or the other parts on the sea-coast. This elevated plain (Wilhelm's Plain) occupies a considerable portion of the interior of the island, extending from near the sea on its northern extremity, to near Port Bourbon on the south-east coast, and its surface is about 90 square miles. On this plain are several lakes, from which issue the numerous rivers and rivulets that water the island. One of the lakes, the Mareaux Vacouvas, is one of the natural curiosities of the country. It is an irregular piece of fresh water, about one mile in length, surrounded with many hundred acres of swampy land, through which it receives several streams from the neighbouring hills. It is said to be from 20 to 25 fathoms deep, is well stocked with eels, prawns, and a small red fish called dame-cere, brought originally from China. The eels and prawns are indigenous, and attain a large size; the latter are sometimes found six inches long without the beard, and the eels are commonly from six to twenty pounds weight, and are said occasionally to attain the weight of eighty pounds; they are delicious food, and the larger they are the more highly is their flavour esteemed. Its form has more affinity to the conger than to the fresh water eel, and nearly resembles the species caught in the small streams on 8

M A U Norfolk Island, in the Pacific Ocean. About six Mauritius, miles from Vacouvas lake, another lake, called the Grand Basin, greatly exceeds it in depth. This basin is nearly half a mile in diameter, of a circular form, and said to be more than eighty fathoms in depth. The banks are rocky, and have the appearance of a mound, thrown up to prevent the waters from overflowing, and the surrounding land, especially to the southward, being considerably lower, gives the basin the appearance of a cauldron, about two-thirds filled. No perceptible stream runs into it, but several issue from it through hollow parts of the rocky bank. These, by various additions, form three rivers, that run into the sea on the south and south-east sides of the island. No great difference takes place in the level of the water, except after heavy rains, when the supply, which must come chiefly from the springs in the bottom, so far exceeds the quantity discharged as to raise it sometimes as much as six feet. The elevated bank round this basin consists of stones loosely thrown together, which, though porous, are heavy and hard, of a dark grey colour, and contain numerous specks, which appear to be feld-spath, with some particles of mica and olivine: it is more or less ferruginous, and in some parts appears to run in the manner of lava. It is natural to infer, that, if the whole island does not owe its existence to subterraneous fire, it has been subject to volcanic eruptions, and that the Grand Basin is the remains of one of them. The climate, on these elevated plains, is remarkably moist. A day seldom passes in the whole year without rain upon them, whilst on the low grounds very little falls, except from December to March. This moisture creates an abundance of vegetation, and would render the middle parts of the island extremely fertile, if the soil were not washed down by the violent rains into the low lands, and into the sea as soon as it is formed. The little soil that does accumulate is good, and increases, though slowly ; for the decayed wood adds something to its quantity every year, whilst the trunks and roots of the trees save a part from being washed away. A plantation covered with loose rocks is found to retain its fertility the longest, apparently from the stones preserving the vegetable mould from being washed away. The produce of the different districts in Mauritius varies according to their elevation and climate. The chief food for the black population, consisting of maize, rice, manioc, and sweet potatoes, is raised with great facility in different parts; but owing to the want of roads, and the scarcity of beasts of burden, which renders it necessary to employ human labour in conveying productions to market, the prices vary very much in different parts. The articles cultivated for exportation are by no means profitable, as the planters of the neighbouring island of Bourbon can raise coffee and cotton much cheaper, and of better qualities. The spices of Ceylon have been attempted to be cultivated, but hitherto with little success. There are few indigenous fruits, and none abundant, except the plum which grows on the ebony tree; but the banana, the pine apple, the melon, the jack, the orange, the lemon, the Avogada pear, the mangosteen, and the

M A U Mauritius, eocoa tree, have been introduced, and propagated with various success. The most valuable of its trees was the ebony, the heart of whose timber is usually sold by weight. It is a slender and lofty tree, having only a few branches near the top. It produces clusters of an oblong fruit the size of a plum, full of a viscous sweetish juice of rather an agreeable taste. The usual circumference of a good tree is from three to four feet; when the exterior wood is chipped away, a black log remains of about six inches in diameter, and from twelve to fifteen feet long, whose weight usually exceeds three hundred pounds. It is principally exported to the China market. At one time, the planters were induced to cut those trees that had not attained a sufficient size, and as its growth is very slow, there is not the same abundance of them as was formerly found on the island. Mauritius seems more exposed to the visitation of hurricanes than any other spot on the globe. These usually occur between the months of December and May. Their force is irresistible, and in their course they lay flat the productions of the fields, dissipate most of the marks of industry, scatter the houses, and compel the ships in the roads to abandon their anchorage and fly to the open sea for safety. The only town in the island is Port Louis ; the rest of the inhabitants live in scattered plantations, and though sometimes six or eight houses may be found contiguous, yet generally the nearest neighbour is a mile distant. The entrance to the harbour of Port Louis is defended by strong forts on the island of Tonneliers on one side, and by Fort Blanc on a peninsula opposite to it. From these points to the city the channel is narrow, and when the buoys are removed, difficult to pass. Near the city the anchorage is good, if care be taken to avoid the numerous wrecks that are at the bottom, with a depth of water varying from six to fourteen fathoms. The entrance to the harbour is nearly a course from north-north-east to south-south-west, by which all the shoals are avoided. The tide rises ordinarily about two feet, but at the equinoxes about three feet. The time of high water, at new and full moon, is noon. The only other harbour, called Grand Port, on the south-east side of the island, is but little frequented. It has no town near it, and though, from the prevalence of south-east winds, it is easy of access, from the same cause it is difficult of departure. The Dutch, when in possession of this island, erected a new town near it, but it is gone to decay, and only the vestiges of the buildings are now visible. The commerce of the island, either with Europe or India, is by no means extensive. The whole of the necessaries of life are supplied to the great mass of the inhabitants from their own cultivation, and the European articles that are wanted for tire higher classes require but small importations. No accurate accounts of the imports and exports are returned to any of the offices of government in Great Britain. We have no accounts of the whole population; and the hearsay reports of travellers differ so much as to merit little confidence. 1 he only authentic document is the return of slaves to

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the colonial register office for slaves. The latest re- Mauritius turn is that of 1817, when their numbers were _ 85,423. The free inhabitants are not supposed to, be more than as three to two of the slaves ; and the whole number of inhabitants may be about 200,000. (w. w.) MAYO, a maritime county in Ireland, having the Situation. Atlantic Ocean on the north and west, and the counties of Galway, Roscommon, and Sligo, on the south and east. Castlebar, the principal town, is in north latitude 53° 50', west longitude 9° 8'. It contains Extent. 2339 square miles, or 1,496,960 English acres ; and is divided into nine baronies, and 62 parishes. Mayo is situated in the province of Connaught; and the see of Killala, whose bishop resides at the town ot that name in this county, is within the archbishopric of Tuam. A large proportion of the surface of Mayo con- Surface, sists of mountains, bogs, and lakes. More than half the county, particularly on the west and northwest, may be described as mountainous ; and much of this tract is covered with heath, though the sides of many of the hills are green, and the vallies in some places remarkably fertile. Croagh Patrick is 2661 feet high, and Mount Nephin 2630 feet. On the west coast, which is exceedingly irregular, are Broad Haven, Blacksod Bay, and Newport, or Clew Bay, arms of the sea; and a number of small islands, ol which Clare, at the entrance to Newport Bay, is the most considerable; and on the north is the bay ot Killala. From Castlebar to the inland boundary on the east and south, the country is in general less rugged, and contains a great number of small towns and villages. There is very little full grown wood in Mayo, and the greater part is without plantations. With the exception of Lord Sligo’s grounds, on tne south-west, and the demesnes of a few other proprietors, the country is naked, and exposed to every storm. The principal lakes are Lough Carra, Lough Waters. Mask, the Lake of Rabins, and Lough Conn; the latter is about nine Irish miles long, and four broad. The rivers are, the Robe and Black river, the Erriff, the Deel, and the Moy, with several smaller streams. The Moy is navigable for boats of 50 tons a few miles from its mouth. Iron-ore, slate, ochre, manganese, sandstone, and Minerals, pipe and brick clays, are plentiful. Iron works were formerly carried on to some extent, but, as in many other parts of Ireland, have been discontinued, from the want of fuel. Near Westport there is a quarry of slates of a quality equal to any brought from England. Here also are great rocks of the Pet?'osilex semilucidus, similar to that which is used in the English potteries. Mayo is divided into estates w-orth from L. 7000 Estates, to L. 20,000 a year ; but their extent, owing to their containing a great proportion of waste land, is still greater than in the ratio of their value. If a qualification of L. 1000 per annum were required, two grand juries might be formed in this county. Agriculture is in a very backward state. The Agriculture, plough, commonly drawn by four horses abreast, is of the worst description, and the harrows are often furnished with tines of wood, instead of iron. It is

318 Mayo.

M A Y • still the practice, in the mountain district, to yohe the horses by the tail. But, in some of the baronies, the plough is seldom or never employed at all, the tillage being performed by the spade, and in others they use the spade in cultivating potatoes, and the plough only for corn. Yet potatoes, oats, and on the sea coast, barley, are sown to a considerable extent, and also flax. Wheat is cultivated only in particular spots, and chiefly by proprietors, a few of whom have also introduced turnips, pease, beans, rape, and cabbage. There is some excellent grazing land for cattle in the barony of Ty raw ley, and good sheep pastures in Kilmain. Some graziers hold 3000 Irish acres. The English long-horned cattle, which were imported by the principal proprietors, have greatly improved the native breed. Farms. The size of farms varies with the nature of the soil and surface, but, though several hundred acres are sometimes let out in one farm, yet, as the farms are commonly held in partnership, the space allotted to each tenant is generally only a few acres. As each of them keeps a horse, it is computed that there is one for every ten or twelve Irish acres. The leases are for different periods, 15 years, 21 years, and one, two, and sometimes three lives, or 31 years. Towns. Dr Macparlan, the author of the Statistical Survey oj Mayo, enumerates forty-six towns at which fairs are held, but most of them are only small villages. The principal towns are Castlebar, Westport, Ballina, Killala, Clare, Ballinrobe, and Newport. None of them are of such importance as to be represented in Parliament. The assizes are held alternately at Castlebar and Ballinrobe. The habitations of the labourers, or cottiers, are in Wages and Prices. general very wretched, and shared by them with their cow' and pig. The cost of a cabin is from L.3 to L.5. The fuel is almost universally bog-turf. Potatoes, oatmeal, milk, and herrings, are, with few exceptions, their only articles of food, the lower classes seldom tasting meat. They are clothed in their domestic manufactures, frizes, druggets, flannels, and linen; a man’s complete suit, including hat, shirt, stockings, and shoes, with a great coat, costs about L.2, 17s. 3d. Irish currency. The subsistence of a family of six is said to be worth from L.15 to L.20. The common price of labour, in 1802, was 8d. a-day; potatoes. Is. Id. per cwt.; beef, 3d. and mutton 3^d. per pound. In 1811, according to Mr Wakefield’s information, the wages of common labour were L.12 for the half-year; and, in hay and corn harvest, Is. 8d. per day: the price of potatoes 3d. per stone; beef and mutton, 7d. per pound; oatmeal, 12s. 6d. per cwt.; milk, 2d. and butter-milk. Id. per quart. The English language, according to Dr Macparlan, is general, though, in the mountain barony of Erris, many are entirely ignorant of it; but Mr Wakefield found the Irish universally spoken. Killala, in some seasons, employs fifty boats in the Fisheries. herring-fishery. At Killery Bay, on the south-west, and Ballina, on the north-east, there are considerable salmon-fisheries, and smaller ones at Newport, and other places. ManufacThe linen manufacture is the only one that afturer. fords a surplus beyond the wants of the population;

M E A but, though it is general throughout the county, it is Mayo not conducted on a great scale by individuals. At tl Castlebar there is a linen-hall. The other articles, Meat!lare coarse woollens for home consumption. At Newport a number of girls are employed in making straw bonnets. The county of Mayo sends two members to Par- Rcpresentaliament; the Marquis of Sligo and Lord Viscount Aon and Dillon have the greatest influence. On the estate of PoPulat*on* the latter alone there are 2100 registered freeholders. The number of inhabitants, in 1790, is stated by Dr Beaufort at 140,000. The great majority are Catholics ; throughout some districts, of fifty miles in extent, there is not one Protestant church. See Dr Macparlan’s Statistical Survey of Mayo, and the works quoted under the former Irish counties. (a.) MEATH, a county in Ireland, in the province ofsituaflon Leinster. Its boundaries are Louth, with a smallanc* portion of Monaghan and Cavan on the north; the Irish Sea and the county of Dublin on the east; Kildare on the south; and West Meath and Longford on the Avest. From east to west it extends about 44 English miles, from north to south 37, and contains 9l>5 English square miles, or 617,600 English acres, of which only about a twelfth part consists of bogs and wastes. This county, which gives the name to its diocese, is situated in the ecclesiastical province of Armagh ; its divisions being twelve baronies, and 147 parishes. The river Boyne, which intersects it in a north-eastern direction, forms a line of separation between its northern and southern parts, the former being called the Kells, and the latter Dunshauglin. Having but a few miles of sea coast to the south of the Boyne, and no other rivers of any size, it has no harbours of its own, but easy access to Drogheda, the greatest corn-market in Ireland, situated on the Boyne, in the contiguous county of Louth. Meath is, in general, a low, flat, rich tract of coun- Surface, try, with a soil of clay or strong loam, incumbent upon limestone or gravel, not remarkable for natural scenery, and having little wood, but containing a few splendid mansions, extensive plantations, and the remains of many religious and military buildings. In its climate it differs little from that of the adjacent counties of Dublin and Louth already described. The principal river is the Boyne, which enters this Rivers, county from Kildare on the south-west, and passing by the town of Trim, northward to Navan, meets there the Blackwater from the county of Cavan, and from thence flowing westward by Slane and Drogheda, falls into the sea a little below the latter town. It is navigable for small craft to Navan, and for vessels of considerable size to Drogheda. The other streams are inconsiderable, such as the Athboy and Mannoch, which fall into the Boyne, and the Nanny water, which discharges itself directly into the sea. Meath does not, as far as known, abound in minerals. Minerals. Copper is wrought at Walterstown, south-west of the Boyne. A coarse pottery has been carried on near Knock, in the barony of Morgallion ; and in the barony of Navan, on the lands of Ardbraccan, is what is called the “ White-quarry,” which furnishes a limestone of a beautiful whitish colour, but which

M E A Meath, becomes almost black by exposure to the atmosphere; it is supposed to have been worked for several centuries. Estates. The landed property of Meath is divided into large estates, a great many of which yield an income of upwards of L.2000 a-year. These are for the most part let out on leases of 21 years and a life; but on some of them there are leases in perpetuity, which have now become more valuable than the freehold property. In 1818, the rent was from L.2 to L.3 the Irish acre. Grating. Grazing is or was, till very lately, a more important object in this county than tillage. Many persons fattened from 300 to 500 cows in a season, besides bullocks and sheep. These they purchase at the beginning of the grass season, and dispose of during the summer and autumn as they are ready, instead of keeping a regular stock all the year. The pastures are considered too valuable to be applied to the rearing of stock. Dairying is not carried to any extent, and the butter made here is said to be held in little estimation. In some instances, where farms are let out for the dairy, the landlord supplies a succession of cows in milk, horses, and land, and the tenant furnishes labour, utensils, &c. paying at the rate of from L.6 to L.7, \0s. per annum for each cow. The English long-horned cattle were introduced many years ago into this district, which now contains some of the best specimens of the breed. The sheep are brought from other counties, and, like the cattle, the same stock is kept only for a season. Tillage. Tillage farms are larger here than in most parts of Ireland j but, according to Mr Curwen, who visited Meath in 1818, the system of management is little better than on the small farms of other districts. The houses and fences are for the most part of the worst description, especially the cabins of the farm labourers, which are miserable mud-walled hovels, sunk below the level of the ground adjoining, and occupied by cows and pigs, in common with the family. The principal food of this class is potatoes with churn-milk, and occasionally oat-meal, butchermeat being rarely used even among the farmers ; and, to add to their privations, fuel is very scarce in different parts of the county. An uninterrupted succession of oats and other corn crops for several years is common ; in a few instances even for twenty years. “ The common rotation,” says Mr Curwen, “ is wheat, oats, fallow, potatoes, clover, all without the application of manure.” It is customary to work horses intermixed with oxen, of which six are generally yoked together, three pair deep, to a very illconstructed plough ; yet, notwithstanding this management, the wheat crops are in some parts excellent. ManufacManufactures do not afford employment to any lures. considerable part of the population, though here, as in most parts of Ireland, that of linen is carried on to some extent; and also the weaving of cotton. On the Blackwater and the Boyne there are several extensive flour mills, at which much of the wheat grown in the county is made into flour before being Towns, sent out of it. The towns and villages are Trim, where the county assizes are held, Kells, Duleek, Ratoath, Athboy, Slane, Navan, which has a communication

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by water with Drogheda, Newcastle, Dunshaughlin, Moynally, and Clonard : none of these return members to the Parliament of the United Kingdom. Of the two members for the county, the Catholic interest, according to Mr Wakefield, is powerful enough to return one. The same author estimates that the Catholics are to the Protestants as 40 to 1, which, from other parts of his work, seems to be much too large a proportion for the former. 1 he leasehold, and much of the personal property, belongs to Catholics. According to Dr Beaufort, the population, about 1790, was 112,400, and it is known to have increased considerably since. Seethe Works of Beaufort, Newenham, and Wakefield, as quoted under the former Irish counties; Thomson’s Survey of Meath ; The Parochial Survey of Ireland ; Curwen’s Observations on the State of Ireland, 1818; and, for antiquities, the article Meath in the Encyclopcedia. (a.) MECHAIN (Peter Francis Andrew), a well known practical astronomer and geographer, was born at Laon, 16th April 1744. His father was an architect, and educated him with the intention of making him his successor in his business. He was afterwards obliged to take charge of two young men at Sens, as their private tutor ; and he accidentally became acquainted with Lalande on occasion of the sale of a fine instrument which he had procured, and of which Lalande became the purchaser; and it was under Lalande’s patronage that he was brought forward as an observer, surveyor, and computer. He made two voyages with Mr de la Bretonniere, and assisted him in surveying some parts of the coast of France. He was afterwards employed in various computations by the Marquis de Chabert and the Due d’Ayen. Having obtained a prize from the Academy of Sciences in 1782, for a Memoir on comets, he became a member of the Academy the same year. Having proved that the hopes entertained by some astronomers of recovering an old comet were unfounded, he made up in some measure for the disappointment, by finding them eleven new ones in the course of eighteen years ; and he computed the orbits not only of all these, but of thirteen others, which had been discovered by other observers : emulating in this department the labours of both his predecessors, Messier and Pingre. About 1785, he undertook the publication of the Connaissance des Terns, and continued it till he was employed in geodetical operations at a distance from Paris. He was appointed, together with Cassini, de Thury, and Legendre, to make a committee to meet the English astronomers lor the determination of the relative situation of the observatories, which had been proposed by Cassini. It was in these operations that he first brought Borda’s circle into general use. He was soon after, in 1789, made a Foreign Member of the Royal Society of London. In 1791, he was appointed, in conjunction with Delambre, to execute the intentions of the Constituent Assembly, with regard to the determination of a basis of linear measures. A variety of delays and difficulties occurred in these operations; in Spain he was wounded in the head and in the side, by an ac-

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320 M E C M E R Mechain. cident which occurred while he was inspecting a \va[^Delambre, Mem. Instil. Sc. VI. 1806, p. i.; and Merioneths!lire ' ter-wheel; and the political circumstances of the in Biographic Universdle, XXVIII. 8. Paris, 1821.] (m. e.) times produced many embarrassments, which caused MERIONETHSHIRE, a maritime county of Boundaries him to linger in Italy perhaps a little longer than wTas actually necessary ; but the establishment of the North Wales. It is bounded on the north by Car- and Extent, Bureau des Longitudes, and his nomination as a narvonshire and Denbighshire, on the east by the member of it, determined his immediate return to latter county and Montgomeryshire, on the south Paris. He was now director of the Observatory, by Cardiganshire, and on the west by the Irish and he entered with great zeal on a series of obser- Channel. It is of a triangular shape, contracting vations, which were to rival those of Flamsteed, of towards the south. Its length from north to south Bradley, or of Maskelyne; but he seems to have been is 36, and its greatest breadth 34 miles. Its area is a little tired of the confinement, and he readily ac- estimated at 691 miles. There are few parts of the British Islands on which Face of the cepted, or rather solicited, the appointment to take a part in the measurements required for the still fur- the scenery is more varied, the surface more irregu- Counu-y. ther extension of the arc of the meridian to the south lar, or the prospects more romantic. Many of the of Barcelona. But the secret motive for his seeking peaks of the lofty mountains are near to each other, this humbler employment appears to have been a de- with deep valleys, or rather chasms between, and in sire to remove some doubts which he entertained re- other parts, the variety of objects forming striking specting the latitude of Barcelona, as it appeared af- contrasts with the vicinity of the sea, give a most ter his death from his papers, that there had been a picturesque collection of pleasing, though sometimes discordance of 3" in some observations which he had terrific views. The principal mountains, and their not made public In this unfortunate undertaking, heights above the level of the sea, are Cader Idris, he paid a heavy penalty for any want of candour 2914 feet, Arran Fowdy, 2955 feet, Arrening, 2809 which may have been attributed to the concealment; feet, Cader Ferwyn, 2563 feet, and Pengarn, 1510 shipwreck and disease awaited him ; and he died at feet. These mountains consist principally of granite, last, at his post, the 20th September 1805, of a fe- porphyry, and other unstratified rocks, while the sever, which fatigue and a bad climate had brought on. condary hills are composed of different kinds of The severe stage of his illness was so short, that his schistus. son, who accompanied and assisted him in the surThe principal rivers are the Dee, which runs Rivers, through this county, and after passing the beautiful Lakes, and vey, had not time to join him. From the time of his accident in Spain he had be- town of Corwin, enters Denbighshire ; the Maw or Cataractscome habitually melancholy and timid, though re- Mawddach, which rises in the middle of the county, gardless of personal danger in the pursuit of his pro- and empties itself into the Irish Channel; the Dofessional objects. His whole time was occupied in vey, which rises near a pass in the mountains leadobserving and calculating: he published little ; and ing to Montgomeryshire, and forming at last a large never hazarded to advance any reflections on the estuary, enters the sea at Aberdovey ; and the Glessubjects which employed him, being probably more lyn and Dwyrid, whose streams unite before enterin the habit of acting than of speculating. He mar- ing the ocean. These rivers receive the waters of ried, in 1777, Miss Therese Marjon, with whom he numerous brooks and rivulets which trickle from the had become acquainted at Versailles. This con- mountains, and in their course fertilise the valleys nexion was in every respect happy; he was indebt- through which they run. There are several lakes, of ed to it for a competent fortune, and he left a daugh- which, the most considerable for extent, as well as for ter and two sons. beauty, is Llyn Tegid, near Bala, sometimes called 1. Of his publications we find the most important Pimblemere. It is about four miles in length, and three in the Memoires des Savans etrangers; that is, be- quarters of a mile in breadth. Its banks are most sides some Observations of eclipses and occidtations, a beautifully adorned with slopes, partly covered with Memoir on the comets of 1532 and l66l ; showing woods, and partly exhibiting verdant pastures. Lynn that they are not the same ; and their non-appear- Talyllin, at the foot of Cader Idris, is less extensive, ance seven or eight years afterwards fully justi- but scarcely less beautiful. Some fine cataracts add fied his conclusions, and the adjudication of the their beauty to the other romantic scenery of this county; of these Rhaidr Ddu and the fall of the prize. 2. In the Memoirs of the Academy, from 1782 to Glyn near Port Llyn Dyffws are the most remark1784, there are several of his Observations of transits, able ; but several smaller ones will well reward the labour of the traveller who delights in the pictureclipses, occultaiions, and comets. 3. There are also some letters of Mechain in Zach’s esque. The agriculture of the county is in a very imper- Agriculture, Geographical ephemerides about 1800, on the instruments of the Parisian Observatory, and on other sub- feet state, though the spirited exertions of some j ects. large proprietors have recently exhibited speci4. He edited the Connaissance des terns, from 1786 mens of great improvement. Nearly three-fourths to 1794. See Lalande, of the county is uninclosed, and much of that part is 5. Base du systeme metrique, decimal. 3 v. 4. Paris, unproductive waste. Large portions of the marsh 1806, 1807, 1810. The joint work of Mechain and lands on the coast have, by inclosing, embanking, his respectable and indefatigable friend and colleague and draining, been converted into rich pasture, and much more requires only the application of capital to Delambre.

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her loss. He afterwards became Astronomer to the Messier. Navy, instead of being only a clerk in the department. He obtained a seat in the Academy with t ie armer& Messier ' ^ breeding and rearing cattle. The , heifers from this county are sent in droves to the some difficulty, and not till 1770; being considered v ^ T fairs in the south of England, and when improved as too mechanical an observer to have a very strong by good pasture, are found very valuable beasts. claim to that distinction. He was fond ot drawing The sheep are of small size, the flesh of which is charts of the paths of comets, and of other astronohighly prized, and their wool forms the material for mical phenomena; one of these procured him the honour of being made an Academician of Berlin, the domestic manufactures. Trade and There are scarcely any manufactories that can be and another, with Laharpe’s interest, obtained him Manufac- noticed, except a few coarse woollens; the females the same distinction from Petersburgh. He was also made a Fellow of the Royal Society of London, in tures. 0f all the families, however, employ themselves in knitting hosiery goods from the native wool. These 1764. The highest compliment that he ever received furnish considerable quantities of the caps called was paid him, perhaps without sufficient reason, by Welsh wigs; and gloves, and stockings, the only goods Lalande, who inserted, in his celestial globe of 1773, that are sent out of the county, and the annual va- a constellation with the name of Messier, or Messium lue of which is estimated at L.25,000. The only custos, The Harvest Man; in the neighbourhood trade is from the harbour of Barmouth, situated on a of Cepheus. When Herschel had discovered the small arm of the sea, into which several rivulets Georgian planet, he was very diligently engaged in empty themselves. The port is difficult of entrance, observing its motions; but, in the mean time, his and but little frequented. It is chiefly, devoted to studies were interrupted by an unfortunate accident: coasting trade; exporting oats, barley, butter, cheese, he fell into an ice-house, in a garden, which he misoak-bark, and timber, and importing coals, culm, and took for a part of a grotto, and fractured an arm and groceries. On account of the excellence of the beach, a thigh. He was long in recovering, and he obtainand the romantic beauties of the surrounding coun- ed a small pension on the occasion, from the royal try, it has been much frequented of late years for bounty, by the solicitations of Mr Sage and some others of his friends, who had interest. He was, sea-bathing. Population. By the census of 1811, the popidation amounted however, soon deprived of it by the Revolution ; to 30,924 persons, of whom 14,308 were males, and but he continued his pursuits as a private individul6,6l6 females. It has increased less between the al, and he amused the last days of the President de enumeration of 1801 and that of 1811 than any Saron by communicating to him his observations, other county of England or Wales. The only town which Saron continued to compute during the imis Dolgellen, where the assizes are held, which con- prisonment that was terminated by his barbarous execution. Messier was in some measure compentained 3064 inhabitants. The most remarkable seats are those of Sir Robert sated for his pecuniary losses by being made a MemWilliams Vaughan, at Nannau; of Mr Oakley, at ber of the Institute, of the Bureau des Longitudes, Tany Bwlch Hall; Sir Thomas Mostyns, at Cors y and of the Legion of Honour. He lived, without Gedel, and Mr Corbet, at Ynysymaengwyn. It re- disease or material infirmity, to the age of 82, when his sight began to fail him, and he required a turns to Parliament one member for the county. deep glass, which he found it fatiguing to use. He See Evans’ North Wales ; Davies’ Agriculture of North Wales ; and Aiken’s Tour in Wales, (w. w.) had afterwards a paralytic attack ; but he lived to be MESSIER (Charles), a celebrated astronomer, near 87, and died of a dropsy, or probably rather of old age, the 11th of April 1817born at Badonviller, in Lorraine, 26th June 1730. 1. A variety of his observations, especially of He was the tenth of twelve children, and lost his father when he was 11 years old. He came to Paris Cornets, are published in the Mernoires des Sava ns at 20, and had then to seek his fortune, having only etrangeres, V. VI. 2. After his admission into the Academy, he was learned to write a good hand, and to draw. Delisle employed him as a copyist in the observatory. Li- a constant contributor to its Memoirs from 1771 to bour, his secretary, taught him to make use of the 1790. His papers consist almost entirely of Obsercommon instruments of astronomy, to observe eclipses, vations of comets and eclipses, with some Accounts and to look out for comets ; and this was the princi- of Aurorae Boreales. There is also a Catalogue of pal business of his subsequent life ; for he was never Nebulae in 1771; An Account of points of light seen much of a theoretical or philosophical astronomer. on Saturn’s ring in 1774; and ot An apparent fall of Delisle obtained for him an appointment as clerk in globules over the sun’s disc, 1777. 3. In the Connaissance des terns, there is a collecthe Hydrographical Department of the Navy, and gave him his board and lodging in his own house: tion of his Observations of the eclipses of Jupiter's and he claimed in return the singular gratification of satellites. He had an excellent sight, and excellent keeping all Messier’s observations of comets secret telescopes ; and he made the duration of the eclipses for his own private amusement, until their novelty almost always shorter than other astronomers. 4. He contributed some articles to the Astronomiwas completely lost. Messier had already discovered 12 comets when cal Ephemerides of Professor Hell, published at he lost his wife; his attendance on her sick-bed pre- Vienna. 5. The Voyage de Courtanvaux sur la fregatte vented his discovering a 13th : and it is said that the circumstance added not a litttle to his grief for VAurorc, 4. Paris, 1768, was written by Pingre: Merioneth- bring it into the same state. Very little of the land is shire adapted to the plough, and the principal pursuit of

322 Messier II ^oloav' ^

M E ' S the observations are Messier’s: the purpose of the voyage was to make trial of several astronomical instrum ents. ^ piis only separate publication was entitled Grande comete qui a paru a la naissance de Napoleon le Grand, 4. Paris, 1808. It was probably not calculated for immortality, even if it was a genuine work of Messier.

M E S 7. Delambre is in possession of a number of his Messier II unpublished observations of the solar spots ; but he found their results, when computed, somewhat un- Meteor. olog> satisfactory. [[Delambre in Biographic TJniverselle, XXVIII. 8. Paris, 1821. See also Eloge de Delisle, by Lalande, in Necrologe des hommes celebres de France* 12. Paris, 1770.] (x. a.)

METEOROLOGY, F rom /xirsupog, sublimis, is that science which describes and explains the various phenomena which occur in the region of our atmosphere. It has deeply engaged the attention of men in every state of society, from the roving savage to the refined votary of wealth and pleasure. The moment we cross our doors, we commit ourselves to the influence of the weather. But the hardier classes of the community, the shepherd, the ploughman, and the mariner, whose labour creates or procures the staple articles of life, are always exposed, by their occupation, to the mercy of the elements. They were hence led, by the strongest motives, to examine closely the varying appearance of the sky, and to distinguish certain minute alterations which commonly precede the more important changes. No doubt they would often mistake the indications of those aspects, and would infer conclusions from mere casual circumstances. Those tokens which portend the more violent convulsions of the atmosphere—the pelting storm, or the careering tempest—are generally of a decided character; but the symptoms which go before the ordinary fluctuations of the weather can only be dimly conjectured by long experience and sagacious ' observation. This shadowy knowledge, this dubious and very limited anticipation of the changes which arrive in the medium we breathe, is merely the fruit of personal assiduity and application. Like the conclusions which men of discernment form to themselves on the subject of physiognomy, it is scarcely communicable ; it receives, therefore, no accessions in the progress of ages, but perishes with the individual. Origin of The vague rules which experience had formed on *he Science, the subject of atmospheric changes were adopted by the philosophers of antiquity, and incorporated into their cosmological systems. But in attempting to explain the phenomena, they sought merely to satisfy the imagination; and the supposition of certain elements, each endued with peculiar properties, appeared, on a superficial view, to connect harmoniously the general facts. In the infancy of science, however, it was very difficult to distinguish between such appearances as are only incidental, and those constant presages which invariably anticipate their effects. The different fluctuations that happen in the lower atmosphere seemed dependant on the influence of the heavenly bodies, which are continually altering their places. Not only the sun and moon appeared to rule the seasons, but the planets, and even the fixed stars, were conceived

to retard or accelerate, by their feebler action, the revolution of the grand cycle of changes. The application of the term aspect to the positions of those remote bodies implied a principle of intelligence, and the stellar influence shed by them might, therefore, be deemed capable of producing all the variety of effects. Hence the origin of Physical Astrology, which has, during so many ages, maintained ascendancy in the world, and still colours the verses of our poets, and pervades the creed of the vulgar. The heat evolved by the luminous particles trans- Influence of mitted from the sun, as they lose themselves among Lightthe lower strata of our atmosphere, or under the surface of the land and the sea, varying in its intensity, according to the obliquity of their incidence, and the extent of medium which they traverse, produces the most important effects in the great economy of the globe. But the correct knowdedge we have at length acquired concerning the mutual action of bodies, contracts the limits of the supposed celestial influence almost to a point. The light of the moon does not amount to the 100,000th part of that of the sun, and the heat which this very feeble illumination excites or communicates, has never been detected by the most delicate instruments, or the best devised experiments. But all the rays shot from the planets, and from the whole constellations of fixed stars, are quite lost in the contrast with those lunar beams. Their combined impressions, during the lapse of countless ages on the atmospheric temperature, would hence elude the utmost powers of calculation. It is only by their attractive force that the heavenly Tides of the bodies, except the warming energy of the sun, can ever Atmospbere* affect the constitution of this globe. As by their action unequally exerted over its surface, they raise tides in the ocean, so they must likewise agitate the atmosphere with a corresponding reciprocation. This effect, however, depends much more on the proximity of the disturbing body, than on its magnitude or density. Thus the sun, with twenty-three million times the mass of the moon, yet being about four hundred times more distant, has only about the third part of her influence in causing the tides. But, according to the computations of Laplace, the joint action of the sun and moon is only capable of producing a tropical wind, flowing westward at the rate ol about four miles a-day ; a quantity too small evidently to be ever subjected to observation, and certainly insufficient to occasion any immediate and practical results. It may be calculated, that Jupiter and Venus, in

323 METEOROLOGY. “ If the sages of antiquity be justly blamed for MeteorMeteor• those parts of their orbits which approach the near0 sy ° ‘ ology- est to the earth, affect the aerial tides by a force adopting implicitly the notions and prejudices of the vulgar, those of modern times may be charged with ' 76,000 and 82,000 times less than the sun. Those planets could, therefore, excite a most minute shift- too eager a disposition to reject whatever savours of ing in the atmosphere, limited to a foot in the space popular opinion. A collection of the numerous rules of 14 or 15 days or about a single mile in 20 years. and remarks formed in the course of ages among difAs the mass of Mars is unknown, its disturbing force ferent orders of men, deeply interested by their occannot be estimated, though it is less than that of cupations in watching the changes of the sky, would Jupiter. But the combined influence of all the rest undoubtedly contain some important truths, which of the solar system is, from their great distance, in- the diligence and sagacity of the philosopher might discriminate, and employ for the basis of beneficial comparably smaller. Inefficacy of Nothing can be so utterly groundless, therefore, as speculations. The most sanguine can hardly uphold the Stellar the disposition to refer the ordinary changes of the the prospect that mankind will ever arrive at such a Influence. weather to the influence of the moon. But, compar- pitch of knowledge, as to be capable of prognostied with this, the fancied efficacy of the stellar as- cating the future modifications of the atmosphere, pects, which was for ages firmly believed by the with the same precision with which they can foretel learned world, vanishes into the shadow of a vision. the successive revolutions of the heavenly bodies ; Nor has the most elaborate examination of numerous yet the motions, however irregular in appearance, registers of the weather disclosed any precise and which prevail in the element that we breathe, are, constant connection between the phases of the moon equally with those performed in the regions of space, or the positions of the stars, and the succession of the result of certain fixed laws. The variable aspect atmospherical phenomena. The inferences which of the sky proceeds partly from the direct action of seem to indicate a different conclusion, may be fair- the sun-beams, but principally from the winds which ly disregarded, as drawn only from a loose and im- they excite and maintain. The unequal gravitation of the different portions of our atmosphere to the perfect inspection of facts. Cycles of the I* cannot be disputed, however, that all the sun, and to the moon especially, must occasion some Weather, changes which happen in the mass of our atmo- small effect in producing or altering the aerial cursphere,—involved, capricious, and irregular as they rents ; and even the disturbing forces of the planets may appear,—are yet the necessary results of princi- have a remote share, how minute soever, in the forples as fixed, and perhaps as simple, as those which mation of meteors. Nor can we hesitate to condirect the revolutions of the solar system. Could clude, with the late ingenious and eloquent M. Badwe unravel the intricate maze, we might trace the ly, whose fate demands the tribute of a tear, that action of each distinct cause, and hence deduce the the notions, so widely spread among men, of the asultimate effects arising from their combined opera- pects and influences of the celestial bodies, are only tion. With the possession of such data, we might the corrupted remains of astronomical science, alsafely predict the state of the weather at any future ready advanced to high perfection in some distant period, as we now calculate an eclipse of the sun or age of the world. If motions were to rise and cease moon, or foretell a conjunction of the planets. Af- instantaneously with the operation of their causes, ter the protracted chain of combinations has been the same succession of seasons would exactly attend completed, the same series of events must again be on each revolution of the sun; but the currents of repeated through the boundless lapse of ages. As air acquire velocity by degrees, and thenceforth conall the anomalies of the planets are periodical, so tinue to flow till their force is spent. The varied likewise the successive varieties follow some cycle of face of our terraqueous globe will, therefore, modivast extent. In the remotest annals of atmospheri- fy the direction, the power, and the duration of the cal phenomena, we might descry a gleam of futurity, winds, raised by the action of the solar rays. Hence and read the changes which still lie hid in the womb an extreme complication of causes, which will produce an immense series of fluctuating events. That of time. But, besides this great cycle, there probably are profound geometer, M. de la Grange, has established much shorter interior and subordinate periods, in by demonstration that all the changes arising from which the weather nearly, though not absolutely, re- the disturbing forces in the planetary system are turns after the same order. Whatever principles con- subjected to certain vast cycles, on the return of cur to modify its succession, the revolutions of the which the same motions are perpetually renewed. sun and moon are certainly the primary and predo- Similar periods, but of an extent that affrights the minant causes. The character of the weather is ac- imagination, probably regulate the modifications of cordingly strongly marked by the vicissitudes of day the atmosphere ; for, whenever a coincidence of cirand night, and by the annual repetition of summer cumstances prevails, the series of appearances must and winter. The menstrual action of the moon es- inevitably recur. The aggregate labours, indeed, capes correct observation ; but, accumulated during of men continually transform the face of our globe, a sufficient time, it may possibly produce a decided and consequently alter the operations of natural influence. Every 19 years the motions of the moon causes:—but, if the agency of animals be stimulated come to coincide with those of the sun, and her nodes and determined solely by the influence of external perform their revolutions in nearly the same time, or objects, it follows that the re-actions of living beings about 18 years. This period, or the half of it, has are comprehended in the same necessary system, and therefore not improbably some slight connexion with that all the events within the immeasurable circuit of the universe are the successive evolution of an exthe usual series of the changes of the weather. xt VOL. v. PART II.

324 METEOROLOGY. Meteor- tended series, which, at the returns of some vast pe- By means of an excellent pneumatic machine, air can MeteoroJ °gy- riod, repeats its eternal round during the endless flux be rarified about a thousand times ; but this degree oloS7of time. Besides the grand cycle, there must evi- of rarefaction would not occur below the height of dently be many intermediate smaller periods, at the forty-two miles in the atmosphere. Such is nearly lapse of which our atmosphere will present nearly, the limit deduced from another consideration, first though not exactly, the same fleeting aspects. Whe- proposed by the famous Kepler. This most original ther these bear any decided relation to the lunar revo- and inventive philosopher conceived, that the delutions, cannot with certainty be affirmed. A copious pression of the sun below the horizon, when twilight collection of registers formed in the course of ages closes around us, might furnish the data for discowill probably, at some future time, lead to the disco- vering the altitude of the portion of sky which reflects very of certain remarkable periods, which will enable his latest parting rays. Let C(seefig.2,PlateXCVII.) men to conjecture, with tolerable precision, the suc- be the position of a spectator on the surface of the ceeding changes of the weather. It would be most earth, and A represent the pointwhere the sun sets,the advisable, perhaps, to begin the inquiry with the tro- tangent AB will mark the track of his lowest ray, pical countries, in which the seasons are more uni- which illuminates the upper part of the atmosphere form, and to advance by degrees into the temperate at B, whence the emission of a secondary ray BC climates. In the mean time, our prognostications will barely reach the ground at A. But assuming may be greatly assisted by observing and studying the mean estimate of astronomers, that twilight exthe concatenation of phenomena. Certain coinci- pires when the solar depression or the arc CA dences of aspects mark the near recurrence of some amounts to eighteen degrees. In the right-angled small portions of the general series, and afford scope triangle COB, the base OC, or the radius of the for the doctrine of chances.” {Monthly Revierjfor globe being 3956, and the acute angle COB nine September 1795, Art. I. p. 14.) degrees, or the half of AOC the hypotenuse OB is Necessity of Such views of the cyclical returns of the varied easily found, and hence about 49 miles is the excess recurring toseasons may expand the imagination, but will be con- BD of CB above CD, or the elevation of the bounsemtionsb* s^erec^ rather as curious speculations, than as definite dary of the atmosphere, illumined by the latest beams conclusions which can ever be reduced to real and of the sun. A correction might be required for the actual application. To improve meteorology we deviation of the rays from their rectilineal path, in must submit to tread a humbler path ; we must study consequence of the unequal refraction of the different closely, and by the aid of delicate instruments, the strata of the atmosphere; but in a question of this kind, constitution and modifications of the atmosphere, resting on rather loose or doubtful observations, it and pursue, under various circumstances, and in dif- seems superfluous to affect any delicacy of calculation. ferent parts of the globe, a lengthened train of careThe inference drawn from the limits of twilight is Lambert's ful and precise observations. The ordinary registers not so conclusive as might at first appear. The fee-Investigaof the weather are of a very modern date, and be- ble slanting rays, shed from the higher regions of thetion' sides being for the most part unskilfully kept, they atmosphere, may not have been received directly seldom record more than the state of the barometer from the sun, but derived, after repeated reflexions, and thermometer, which afford not any complete in- from the more distant parts of the sky. The very dication of the disposition of the atmosphere. No ingenious Lambert attempted to distinguish, besides wonder that meteorology, though cultivated from the the primary twilight, a secondary, and even a ternary earliest times, has advanced the most slowly to the crepusculum. It is easy to see, that the solar ray SA perfection of science. (Fig. 3, Plate XC VII.), after grazing along the surface, To prepare the way for establishing meteorology will illuminate the upper atmosphere at B, from which on a solid basis, we shall Jirst inquire into the ex- some light will be darted in the direction of the tantent and constitution of the medium which we gent BCD, to tinge another elevated portion of the sky breathe ; and shall next review the different philoso- at D, which may cast a few expiring rays to the specphical instruments which assist external observation, tator at E, or shoot onwards to the opposite sky at and indicate at all times the exact condition and F, and thence reach in a state of almost extinction qualities of that mutable fluid. the ground at G. While the first crepusculum, thereHeight of The ancients imagined that our atmosphere, the fore, sets in the west, the second will travel like a bow care> m01 ta t ^hefeTi-" 8631 ' ^ y» an{^ corruption, reached as over the heavens, followed at a regular distance by the imted. far as the moon, beyond which was a boundless ex- dusky veil of the third, or the vanishing train of the panse of resplendent aether, the abode of celestial fourth. But it may be computed, from the vast beings, exempt by their nature from all anxiety, and length of the tracks which the light would have to absorbed in the enjoyment of eternal bliss. But the traverse, that those shades would in succession be discovery of the weight and pressure of the air de- ten thousand times darker. The clearest sky, howstroyed at once this magnificent vision. Comparing ever, on the close of evening, never appears marked the length of the mercurial column with the density by such contrasted boundaries. The vault of heaven of the aerial medium, it followed, that if the atmo- seems to darken by insensible transitions, from the sphere had been an uniform fluid it could not ex- western to the eastern horizon. It is most probable, ceed the elevation of five miles. But the air being therefore, that thediminution of light, after the close of very dilateable, the higher portions of the mass which evening, is owing to the prodigious rarefaction of much covers our globe, sustaining a diminished pressure, higher portions of the atmosphere, which still catch must swell upwards, and occupy a proportionally some faint rays of the sun, without being able, from wider space. This property hence removes the bound- excessive attenuation, to reflect them efficiently to the ary of the atmosphere to a much greater elevation. earth. But since, unless the sky be overcast, there is

METEOROLOGY. 325 Meteor- total darkness in no climate, even at midnight; we mass of air is still the great receptacle of those dif- Meteorology- may, therefore, infer that the body of air extends to fusive emanations. We can readily distinguish se- olo&ysuch an altitude, as to receive the most dilute glim- veral earths and stones by their difference of smell." ‘ mer, after the sun has attained his utmost obliquity, Nay, the metals themselves, especially when rubbed, and sunk ninety degrees below the horizon. It would emit peculiar odours. What can be more variously thence follow, that the elevation of the atmosphere, contrasted, for instance, than the smells of iron, of tin, must be equal at least to 1638 miles, or the excess of and of copper ? The air must hence actually dissolve the hypotenuse of an isosceles right- angled triangle hav- some traces of those metals, highly attenuated indeed, ing 3956 miles, or the radius of the earth for its base. and almost evanescent. If a lump of assafcetida loses Extreme This very great extension of a rare expansive but a grain by exposure for several weeks, a bright Elevation of a{;m0Sp]iere appears conformable to the general phe- surface of copper may, in similar circumstances, sufour Atino- nomena. But the thin investure of our globe, at fer the waste of only the thousandth part of a grain. least, near the equator, may stretch out much far- The metal, if not encrusted by oxydation, would ther ; and yet its elevation can never exceed a cer- consequently experience a certain diminution, howtain absolute limit. The highest portions of the at- ever small, in the course of ages. The atmosphere is thus charged with emanations withvar It is charged mosphere, which is carried round in 23 hours and .10us 56 minutes, by the rotation of the earth about of all the various substances which it sweeps. To Emanations detect such dilute corpuscules wholly transcends the * its axis, would be projected into space, if their centrifugal force at that distance were not less powers of chemical analysis. It seems probable, than their gravitation towards the centre. But that the air holds some matters in more copious sothe centrifugal force is directly as the distance, lution than others; and the phenomena of the aerowhile the power of gravity is at its square. Conse- lites lead us to suspect that it attracts iron and quently, when the centrifugal force at the distance nickel with greater force than the rest of the metals. of 6.6 radii of the earth is augmented as many times, The quantity of those adventitious particles containthe corresponding gravitation is diminished by its ed in a given mass of air may be exceedingly small, square or 43.7 times, their relative proportion being and yet the aggregate weight diffused through the thus changed to 289. Now, the centrifugal force whole atmosphere would form a considerable amount. being only the 289th part of gravity at the surface of It appears from numerous endiometrieal observathe equator, it will therefore just balance this power tions, which agree tolerably well when performat the distance of 6.6 radii from the centre, or at ed in a similar way, that the constitution of our atthe elevation of 22,200 miles. On this hypothesis, mosphere is the same in all places on the surface of fig. 7, Plate XCVII. will represent our globe encom- the earth, and at every elevation which has been yet passed by its atmosphere, of which the equatorial explored. Such experiments have been made at very distant points, repeated on the summits of the diameter extends from A and B. Such is the extreme boundary of atmospheric ex- loftiest mountains, and applied to portions of air pansion. Though it surpasses all our ordinary con- brought down by balloons from the altitude of five ceptions of the space occupied by that dilateable miles. The result is what we should expect from fluid, it yet scarcely exceeds the twentieth part of the perpetual agitation and commixing of the lower the distance of the moon, which was held by the an- strata of the atmosphere. But a variety of circumstances render it extreme- Its higher cients to communicate with our atmosphere. If it trata In really spreads out to the limit now assigned, it must, ly probable, that an expanse, far above the region of^ imma ‘L the clouds, is filled by some peculiar fluid, very differin its remote verge, attain a degree of tenuity which would utterly baffle imagination to conceive. Per- ent from the grosser element spread below. The haps the fluid itself may change in those lofty re- shooting stars which are seen every clear night, the gions, and pass into a sort of setherial essence, more bolades, or fire-balls, and the luminous arches which not unfrequently occur, and which must traverse the analogous to diffuse light than to a mass of air. Constitution The constitution of the atmosphere forms the sky at the height of several hundred miles, all seem of the At- next object of inquiry. The analysis of that rare to indicate the existence of a very ignitible medium. mosphere. medium is one of the finest discoveries of modern Nor is it difficult to conceive how such a collection chemistry. It appears to consist of two distinct ex- of highly inflammable fluids could be formed. Not pansible fluids combined in different proportions, to mention the multiplied processes of art which a single portion of oxygen gas being united to three emit those products, the great laboratory of nature is parts by weight, or four parts by bulk of azote. incessantly at work in generating and pouring forth There is also a very slight admixture of carbonic hydrogen gas, and its various compounds. The volacid gas, amounting to perhaps the thousandth part canic mountains cover a considerable portion of the of the whole. It may be doubted, however, whether surface of the globe, and their innumerable spiracles, this analysis be complete. The combination of those with scarcely any interruption, continue to discharge gases obtained artificially generates a fluid in which immense streams of inflammable aerial fluids, a great we can hardly recognize the ordinary qualities of at- part of which escape conflagration. But, as hydromospheric air. Some fugacious elements must there- gen gas has little attraction to common air, it rises fore escape during the process of decomposition. upwards by its buoyancy, without suffering much Indeed, the air may be considered as an universal sol- loss in the passage through that fluid. The largevent. It is the medium of all smells, and must there- ness of their volume, and the celerity of their profore dissolve the different odorous effluvia, and trans- jection, conspire to favour the ascent of those inflammit them to the olfactory nerves. The presence of mable gases to the loftiest regions of the atmosphere. A comparison of the several quantities of astronomoisture may perhaps assist the solution, but the

METEOROLOGY. 326 Meteor- mical refraction, at different altitudes, points to a si- actually been condensed above a hundred times, and Meteor, °l°gy- milar conclusion. The refraction which the rays of during this process it betrayed no deviation from the oI°gylight suffer in slanting across the higher regions of fundamental law, that its elasticity is directly prothe air, is greater than what calculation assigns to portional to its density. There seems no reason, the corresponding density of the medium. But the therefore, to doubt, that if an adequate compresdiscrepancy would entirely disappear, if we suppose sive force could be exerted, air might be reducthose strata to consist of hydrogen gas, which is ed to the thousandth part of its ordinary volume* known to possess, in a remarable degree, the power But this elastic fluid would then be denser than water, and, consequently, instead of rising, would of refracting. It seems very probable, that the higher range of fall through the liquid. Suppose, for instance, a atmosphere has a sort of phosphorescent quality, or bladder filled with air, and having a small bullet shines with a certain feeble light, for some time, after attached to it, were thrown into the sea; in conit has been heated or excited by the incident rays of tinuing to sink, it would reach a depth where the the sun. Such may be the principal cause, and not enormous weight of the column of water would comany reflex illumination, of that lucid glow which, press it to the same density with the surrounding even at midnight, is diffused over the clear canopy mass ; and if the bullet were now disengaged, the bladder would remain suspended in that stratum, or of heaven. Zodiacal The phenomenon of what is called the zodiacal if carried a little lower, it would precipitate itself to Light. lights might, perhaps, be traced to the same source. the bottom. To form some estimate of this singular event, a HypotbetiThat remarkable appearance, which is more conspicuous in the finer climates, and near the vernal equi- simple calculation will be required. Air, of the ordi- cal Estimate, nox, on the approach of evening, has often been nary temperature, is 840 times lighter than distilled ascribed to the extension of a supposed luminous at- water, and is therefore 865 times lighter than sea-wamosphere about the sun. But Laplace has shown, ter, assuming the density of this to be 1.03. But the that such an atmosphere, far from stretching to our mean pressure of the atmosphere being equal to that earth, would not even reach the orbit of Mercury. of a column of 34 feet of distilled water, is hence The zodiacal light must therefore have only a terres- equal to the weight of a column of 32f feet of seatrial origin. Supposing the uppermost regions of water. Wherefore 32| x 864, or 28,296 feet, is the our atmosphere to consist of diffuse inflammable depth of the ocean where the necessary compression matter, we might infer from analogy, that like the would obtain. But a small correction must be apcalcined sulphate of barytes and other incinerated plied, on account of the augmented density of the substances, they are endued with a phosphorescent sea-water itself under the load of such a column. quality, and capable of scattering a lambent gleam The logarithm of this density is found very nearly on being excited by the beams of the sun. But this by multiplying the height of the column by six, and luminary darting perpendicular rays, will evidently striking off'seven decimal places ; whence the viodaaffect most powerfully the range of atmosphere which lus of the compression of water may be reckoned occurs in his diurnal track. The expansion of the 723,824 feet. Of this large number, the former gaseous investure of our globe above the equator, depth is about the twenty-fifth part; consequently, will hence, from its vast elevation, be descried in to procure an equilibrium between the condensed places even beyond the tropics, glowing with a gen- air and the corresponding stratum of sea-water, it is tle flame. The luminous cone which converges requisite that the air should be contracted one twenfrom the sun to the distance of perhaps 30 or 40 de- ty-fifth part more, or reduced to 901 times less than grees in the circle of the equator, gradually con- its ordinary volume. But 32| x 900=29,475 feet, tracts and grows fainter in proportion as that body from which deduct the fiftieth part for the mean sinks farther below the horizon. condensation of the column, and there remains It thus appears, that the opinion entertained by 28,885 feet, the correct depth. the ancient philosophers concerning the existence This computation is to be considered as only a of a vast shining aethereal expanse beyond our at- near approximation, yet sufficiently accurate for the mosphere, is, with some modifications, consonant to object in view. Nor shall we fatigue our readers by the principles of sound philosophy. This is not the the investigation of a strict formula, including exfirst occasion in which we have to admire, through ponentials. It is enough to mark the conclusion, that the veil of poetical imagery, the sagacity and pene- any portion of air carried five miles and a half below tration of those early sages. It would be weakness the surface of the sea will never ascend again. Now, to expect nice conclusions in the infancy of science; this limit is only half the depth which the theory of but it is arrogant presumption to regard all the tides assigns to the waters of the ocean. There is more efforts of unaided genius with disdain. Seldom has difficulty in conceiving, by what process air can be a discovery been made without some distant ray conveyed to its abyss. Increase of pressure, however, of anticipation. enables water to hold a larger share of air; and the Air may oc- Having ventured to state that the highest region effect is hence the same as an augmented attraction. cupytheBedof the atmosphere is probably occupied by some very The minute globules of air may therefore be gradualof the Ocean, diffuse phosphorescent gas, we shall hazard a conjec- ly drawn downwards from stratum to stratum, till they ture which will appear bolder, and even paradoxical, are at last detached from the body of water by their —that perhaps air, in its most concentrated state, own superior density. The precipitation and accumuoccupies the bottom of the ocean, and forms a vast lation of concentrated air under the ocean would thus bed, over which the incumbent waters roll. Air has be the results of some unceasing operation. Such apro-

METEOROLOGY. Meteor- cess may perhaps constitute a part of the great ecoology. nomy of Nature. It seems probable, that the existence of a subaqueous bed of air is necessary to feed the numerous fires which continually rage in the bowels of the earth, and occasionally burst forth on the surface in volcanic spiracles. MeteoroloThe variable disposition of the atmosphere is the gical Instru-main cause of all the meteorological phenomena. It ments * is of importance, therefore, to examine the theory and application of the different instruments which can be employed to explore the state of that medium. Some of these have been long in common use; but others of a more delicate and refined construction are only beginning to be known, and promise, when generally adopted, to expand our views, by opening a store of new and ulterior prospects. The ordinary observations are confined to the weight and temperature of the air. There are other data still wanted, to determine at any time the actual condition of that medium. The dryness or humidity of the atmosphere, its brightness or degree of illumination, the different depth of the cerulean hue of the sky, and the variable disposition to chill the surface of the earth, by impressions of cold transmitted from the higher regions,—these objects of inquiry should be conjoined with others of a more practical tendency, depending immediately on the mutable state of the weather. Such are the attempts to measure the daily evaporation from the ground, to register the quantity of rain which falls, and to mark the direction and indicate the force or velocity of wind. A complete apparatus of meteorological instruments will, therefore, include primarily the Barometer, Thermometer, Hygrometer, Photometer, JEthrioscope, Cyanometer ; and comprehend likewise the Atmometer, Rain-gage, Drosometer, and Anemometer. We shall review this series in the order of enumeration. Importance I. Barometer.—The capital discovery of the weight of the Baro- and pressure of the atmosphere achieved by Torrimeter celli in 164-3, was the first step in the progress of meteorology to the rank of a science. Prior to that memorable period it rested on principles altogether loose and conjectural. But the construction of the barometer, as an accurate instrument of observation, soon disclosed what was passing in the more elevated and distant regions of the atmosphere. The column of mercury, it was perceived, seldom remained long stationary, but rose and fell through a sensible space, according to the different state of the heavens. In fine calm weather it generally stood high, but commonly subsided a short while before rain or wind. The barometer came, therefore, to be regarded as a 'weather-glassy^nnonncing theproximate changes of the sky, and owed its general reception to this belief. Its indications, however, were found, by farther experience, to be liable to much uncertainty. Though the extreme depression of the mercurial column appears invariably to foretell the ravage of a hurricane, yet its partial variations often pass away without being followed either by rain or wind. The barometer, evidently can mark only the pressure of the atmosphere, and intimate, by consequence, the state of the weather, in as far as it depends on that cause. explain Us° Philosophers have eagerly sought to explain the V ariations.

327

fluctuations of the mercurial column. They have Meteortried every principle that might appear to exert any |0logy' ^, influence in modifying the local weight of the atmosphere; but their very numerous attempts, it must be confessed, have hitherto proved singularly unsuccessful. It was requisite to show that such causes would not only give results of the kind expected, but were besides fully adequate to the production of the phenomena. In most instances, however, either none of those effects could have followed, or they would occur in a very inferior degree and disproportionate extent. All the proposed explications of the changes of the Influence of barometer may, perhaps, be referred to three distinctlts Heat? sources ; 1. The action of heat on the atmosphere; 2. The influence of moisture on that fluid ; and, 3. The impression made by its rapid motion in wind. Now, the heating or cooling of the air above any given place, could in no way affect its pressure. The only change occasioned would be in the density of the fluid ; and by the influx of the portion below, or the efflux of a similar portion above, the pressure of the atmospheric column would soon become adjusted to an equilibrium with the surrounding mass. The diurnal variations of the barometer within the tropics, seldom exceeding the twentieth part of an inch, as they follow a different course from the progress of heat, are obviously not derived immediately from this cause. According to the accurate observations of Humboldt in South America, at all seasons the barometer falls from nine o’clock in the morning till four in the afternoon, it then rises till eleven at night, and from this time it again descends till halfpast four in the morning, and next mounts till nine o’clock. The transition of the air, from a state of dryness to and of its humidity, seemed to furnish the most plausible explication of the changes of the mercurial column. But the turt/ indication of the barometer was, in this case, distinctly at variance with the ordinary feelings of men. Those who suffer under a delicate or enfeebled constitution are accustomed in damp weather to complain of the air as heavier and less elastic. This language is, no doubt, metaphorical only, and descriptive of the disordered state of the nervous system ; but it shows the utter fallacy of trusting in philosophical matters, to the loose results of vulgar observation and experience. Moisture, so far from loading the air by its weight, communicates, like heat, increased expansion, and elasticity. But, even supposing a column of air to become suddenly charged with humidity, before its subsequent dilatation had, by diffusing it, produced an equilibrium, still the additional pressure would have been extremely small, not exceeding, at a moderate computation, the fifteenth part of a mercurial inch. Any transition of that medium, from dryness to humidity, would be quite inadequate, therefore, to the production of the effects actually observed. Some philosophers imagine that moisture, in separating from the air, ceases to press that fluid by its gravitation, and would hence explain the fall of the barometer on the formation of clouds and the precipitation of rain. But when the aqueous particles are disunited in their solvent, whether dispersed in

328 METEOROLOG Y. Meteor- minute globules, or collected in large drops, they of their altering the pressure of the atmosphere;” Meteor, v must evidently descend till they acquire the celerity and 4. “ That the weight of the atmosphere being olo8ysufficient to maintain a resistance in the medium diminished in one place, it is also as much diminishequal to their weight. The pressure of the whole ed at the same time in another place, which holds a atmospheric mass upon the surface of the earth must communication with the former.” therefore continue exactly the same under all the This experiment has a specious appearance, and lte.Fallacychanges of the constitution of the medium. might seem to warrant the conclusions drawn from Action of The combined action of winds seem at first to pro- it. But a closer examination dispels the illusion. Winds. mise the most satisfactory explication of the varia- Since the air had been condensed four times, it must tions of the barometer. It is evident, that opposite issue from the receiver with the immense velocity of currents rushing to the same quarter, will occasion 2700 feet in a second, or the double of that with an accumulation of the air; and on the other hand, which air of the ordinary density would rush into a different streams flowing from any point must reduce vacuum. This is a rapidity, however, twenty times the vertical column. But such conclusions are quite greater than the most tremendous hurricane. The vague, without being subjected to the ordeal of cal- very small change of the four hundredth part of an culation. Now it is easy to compute that a con- atmosphere would hence have been sufficient to procourse of winds blowing at the rate of 50 miles an duce the strongest wind ever observed, and therehour, and hence approaching to the violence of a fore its influence in passing over the mercurial surhurricane, would be required to raise the barometer face must have been quite insignificant. only the tenth part of an inch. The utmost power But the experiment itself was absolutely fallacious. of a tempest could not, therefore, affect the mercu- The peculiar result proceeded from a mere casual rial column the twentieth-part of what is frequently circumstance, the exit pipe from the mercurial cisremarked in such circumstances. But trifling as tern being wider than the pipe which introduced this influence appears, it would be still at variance the current of air. This incidental arrangement is with actual observation. So far from rising in strong not mentioned in the description of the apparatus, winds, the barometer almost invariably sinks ; and and we have, therefore, caused the original figure to instead of continuing depressed in the place where be engraved on a reduced scale, not only to prove the those currents originate, and where a calm must fact which we have just stated, but also to warn exprevail, it generally stands high. perimenters of the necessity of noting scrupulously Hauksbee’s To explain the descent of the barometer during every accessary circumstance blended in their operaExperiment, wind, a very ingenious idea has been proposed, which, tions. (See Fig. 2, Plate XCVI.) It is easy to being apparently confirmed by experiment, has ob- perceive that the tube G, which discharges the air tained general reception. It is conceived, that a from the box F, is much wider than the tube E, current of air, in sweeping over the surface of the which conveyed it from the receiver A. This air, earth, must cease to exert any vertical pressure. previously condensed, and still restrained in its passBut this assumption can hardly be reconciled with age through E, on entering the cavity of the box, any strict principle in science, for the particles of immediately expands beyond the limit of equilibrium, air will not for a moment cease to gravitate, nor will and finding an easy escape through G, allows that any horizontal motion of them produce the slightest state of dilatation over the mercury during the time derangement in a perpendicular direction. A re- of the horizontal flow. But the air contained in the markable experiment, however, was made by the other cistern K, must, from its communication by the ingenious Mr Hauksbee about the beginning of the slender pipe I, suffer a like expansion, and, conseeighteenth century, “ showing, as he says, the cause quently, the columns L and H will, in the same time, of the descent of the mercury in the barometer, in subside equally. k a storm.” Having connected the square box cisSuch is unquestionably the true explication of thisSiniilar Externs of two barometers by a horizontal brass pipe curious fact. Were any confirmation needed, it could of three feet in length, he inserted in the side of one easily be derived from a very simple experiment. Let of the boxes another pipe opening outwards, and A (Fig. 3, Plate XCVI.) be any cylinder of tin, connected the opposite side with a pipe attached to suppose three inches long and two inches in diamethe neck of a large globular receiver, into which ter, having an open pipe inserted at B, a quarter of three or four charges of atmosphere had been com- an inch wide, and perhaps two inches long, and anpressed. On turning the stop cock, the imprisoned other opposite pipe inserted at C, about three-eighths air rushed with vehemence over the surface of the or half an inch wide, and one inch long ; at right mercury in the cistern, and effected its escape, while angles to these, a recurved glass tube or syphon, both columns fell simultaneously about two inches, G H E, of the tenth of an inch bore, is cementand gradually rose again as the force of the blast di- ed below, descending 12 inches, and rising again 6 minished. From this experiment Mr Hauksbee for- inches to the open swell at E, which contains coloured mally derives four distinct corollaries : 1. “ That we water terminating at F. Holding the cylinder in a hohave hence a clear and natural account of the de- rizontal position, and applying the mouth at B, let a scent and vibrations of the mercury in violent storms sudden blast be injected into the cavity, the water and hurricanes2. “ That not only the different will rise instantly to G, thus showing the diminished forces, but also the different directions, of the winds, pressure, and, consequently, the rarefaction of the are capable of producing a difference of the subsi- air above it. But if a cap D, with a narrow projecdence of the mercury3. “ That strong winds may tion of perhaps only the eighth part of an inch, be affect the animal economy, upon this very account. adapted to the exit pipe C, on repeating the experi-

METEOROLOGY. 329 Meteor- ment, an opposite effect will take place, and the doubled, which is probably the limit of the most tre- Meteorcolumn of water, so far from mounting to G, will mendous hurricane, the fall of the barometer would olosynow sink to H. It is evidently the difficulty of the be four times greater, and amount to two inches. escape through D, that occasions the accumulation That the same powerful wind can sweep over an imof the air within the cylinder, and the consequent mense track of surface is well ascertained. The effects depression of the water in the syphon. These dif- of a hurricane originating in the West Indies, at the ferent results are perfectly analogous to the local distance of 5000 miles, have often been felt on our fall or rise of the surface of a river occasioned by the shores. But a wind arising at A must evidently be widening or contracting of its channel. followed, at succeeding intervals, by a current from New Theory After the complete failure of so many theories for K, L, M, &c., the range of influence being thus exof the Vari-explaining the variations of the barometer, which it tended over a larger track. During the flow of the Barometer6 vvou^ tiresome to enumerate, we may be charged air, the depression of the barometer at G will be with presumption in attempting the solution of a pro- maintained, or rather augmented. blem that has x*acked and exhausted so much inThese conclusions are perfectly accordant with Variation of genuity. Yet in all these various efforts, a principle the facts observed. It appears from comparing thethe Baromeseems to have been overlooked, of extensive influ- most accurate registers, that the pressure of the atover a ence, accordant with the general phenomena, and mosphere is subject to very nearly the same varia-great extent, sufficient, we think, on a close investigation, to pro- tions through a vast extent. A barometer may be duce the measure of effect which is required. considered as in unison with another placed at the It is obvious, that a horizontal current of air must, distance of perhaps 200 or 300 miles, and the merfrom the globular form of the earth, continually de- curial columns in both of them rise and fall by an flect from its rectilineal course. But such a deflec- almost simultaneous movement. But, in stormy tion, being precisely of the same nature as a centri- weather, the separated barometers, however they may fugal force, must hence diminish the weight or pres- approximate in their indications, cannot absolutely sure of the fluid. The only question is to determine correspond. The gradation of atmospheric pressure the amount of that disturbing influence. Though it from G to F, from F to E, &c. may be very slow; should appear quite inconsiderable in the interval of a and yet the minute differences may accumulate to a short space, it may yet accumulate to a very notable very sensible amount in the long range from G to A, quantity through the wide extent over which the same or to M. Thus, though a barometer may stand only wind is known to travel. Suppose a current to begin the twentieth part of an inch lower than another seto flow from A (fig. 9, Plate XCVII.) in the direction parated 200 miles, it would be half an inch below a of a tangent, it will successively bend from a rectilineal barometer at the distance of 400 miles. track at the points B, C, D, E, F, G, &c. on the surThe theory now stated seems to furnish the most face of the earth. The particles of the fluid are, satisfactory explication of a great variety of phenotherefore, drawn incessantly from their course by the mena. Thus the minute diurnal alternations, to action of gravity. Their vertical pressure is conse- which the barometer is subject within the Tropics, quently diminished, by the force spent in producing are caused by the influence of the land and sea this deflection. Wherefore, during the prevalence breezes. During the heat of the day, those gentle of the wind, the atmospheric column will press with airs blow from the ocean, and, therefore, near the inferior weight at B than at A, at C than at B, at D shore, and in the interior of the islands, the mercuthan at C; thus gradually decreasing through the rial column subsides. But after the vigour of the whole chain. Suppose the intervals AB, BC, CD, sun’s beams has declined, they flow in an oppoDE, &c. to be each of them a mile, and that the site direction, and consequently the mercury rises current reaches the points B, C, D, E,&c. in successive again. The fluctuations are only partial, however, minutes, a celerity which frequently happens ; the because such breezes hold a very short, and do not deflection at B, owing to the curvature of the earth, perhaps extend beyond 100 or 200 miles. The common remark that a north-east wind, so would be eight inches, or two-thirds of a foot; but the space through which a body would de- far from depressing the mercurial column, generally scend in a minute, by the action of gravity, is causes it to rise, might appear at variance with the 60 x 60 X 16=57600 feet, or 86400 times greater principles which we have advanced. But that wind than the deviation from the tangent. Wherefore the which really comes from the north has probably a atmospheric pressure would, on that hypothesis, short course, and may be dependant on a more exbe diminished by the 86400th part for each inter- tensive current which maintains a flow in the higher val of a mile, from A to G. In the space of 288 regions towards the poles. The existence of oppomiles this diminution would, consequently, be the site streams, though incompatible with the supposi300th part of the incumbent weight; and over an tion of a wide spreading hurricane, may yet be adextent of 2880 miles it would amount to the 30th mitted in local and partial derangements of the at* part. If we assume the very probable estimate, that mosphere.. Hitherto we have contemplated the winds, as destorms involve the whole region of the clouds, or attain an elevation of near three miles, the dimi- scribing only arcs of great circles about the earth ; nution of pressure, occasioned by a long series (ff de- but they may be constrained to bend in smaller cirflections in the stream, would affect one-half ot the cles, and perhaps trace the parallels of latitude. atmosphere. Wherefore, a wind which has blown Their flexure from a rectilineal course, being in over a track of 2880 miles, at the rate of 60 miles this case augmented, they would in the same extent an hour, might cause the mercurial column to sub- exert an influence proportionally greater on the side half an inch. If the velocity of the wind were barometer. Such, near the arctic regions, may

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METEOROLOGY. 530 Meteor- be the effect of a westerly wind of no very distant responds to a descent of 1.247, or about a quarter of Meteorotogy. origin. an inch in the mercurial column. o!ogyII. The Thermometer—The invention of this The same principles will explain the phenomena Explication eddies, whirlwinds, and tornados. Suppose (Fig. instrument has not only dispelled the illusions which of Whirl- 4, Plate XCVII.) a horizontal stream of air, rushing formerly prevailed on the subject of heat, but has winds. from A to B, meets a contrary current blowing from mightily contributed to extend our acquaintance with C to D, and that some obstacle, E, occurs in their the actual condition of the atmosphere. A lump of line of separation. The flow will evidently diverge iron brought intb the house, from its exposure during on both sides of E (see Figs. 5 & 6, Plate XCVII.), a frosty night, feels intensely cold, yet becomes till it swells by degrees into a vertiginous revolution. gradually warmer ; and if it be put into the fire, it Such is the origin of the famous malstroem, or whirl- will soon grow extremely hot, till it acquires the pool, on the coast of Norway, occasioned by the faculty of burning ; on removing it from the fire, meeting of opposite tides. The aerial vortices are and laying it again out of doors, it will, through all evidently produced by a similar cause. If the oppo- the steps of a contrary progress, relapse imperceptisite streams have equal force, the circulation will be bly into its former state. This obvious fact, and many maintained in the same spot; but if the one current others of a similar kind, might have been sufficient to flows with greater rapidity than the other, it will show that hot and cold are nearly relative conditions transport the vertiginous motion by the excess of its which every substance is capable of assuming. The celerity. A motion of progression and revolution is schools upheld very different notions, which, after a thus upheld at the same time- Such appearances long series of descents, have at last found shelter are frequently witnessed in summer, especially in the among the vulgar. It was maintained that, of the four hotter climates. A whirlwind arises on a sudden, elements, air and fire are hot, and water and earth and runs over the surface of the ground, drawing in- essentially cold; and that the compound bodies, from to its vortex all the light substances which occur in their constitution, partake of those qualities in differthe track. Immense havoc is often thus produced ent degrees. While the senses were the sole arbiters in the fields of rice and plantations of sugar-cane. of heat and cold, substances became classed accordIt is easy to show, that if r denote in feet the ra- ing to the sensations which they excited. If a body, dius of the extreme circle described by the whirl- such as lead, rapidly abstracted heat from the touch, wind, and t the time of circumvolution in seconds, it was reckoned cold. But the same quality was the elasticity, or pressure of the column at the verge, likewise bestowed on other substances of a very difwill suffer a diminution corresponding to the fraction ferent kind, for instance, on vinegar and hemlock, they affect the stomach with a sort of chilThe amount of this diminution over the whole because ling sensation. Soft wood and feathers might be base would be reduced to three-fourths ; and conse- deemed warm, since they draw off heat feebly from quently h expressing the height of the revolving co- the touch ; but pepper was also ranged in the same class, because it stimulates the organs of taste. Such lumn of air, would represent the mean effect a confusion of ideas disfigured physical science, and of centrifugal action. Suppose the whirlwind to perverted the practice of medicine. The construction of the air-thermometer, by the Invention of have an elevation of 200 feet, and a radius of .50, the Therin0 * and to circulate in three seconds, the diminished famous Sanctorio of Padua, in 1590, was the com- meter mencement of a salutary revolution. As it wasat ' pressure would be equal to the weight of a column of first intended for exploring disease, it has ultimately 15..50.200 „ — , or 1040 teet. This example, assuming a rendered signal service to the medical practitioners. celerity of 65 miles an hour, might be reckoned an About twenty years afterwards, those instruments extreme case, but it would occasion the mercury to were manufacturedby Drebbel, who carried them from Holland into England. They were very rude, howsink in the barometer more than an inch, or 1.12. The formula for the depression of the barometer ever, and adapted to no constant scale, but recaused by a rapid whirl or tornado in the lower at- garded merely as weather-glasses. The discovery of mosphere, may be changed into an expression that the barometer opened new views, and showed that shall embrace the velocity instead of the time of re- the former instruments marked the conjoint effects volution. This velocity in miles each hour being de- of heat and pressure. To distinguish the separate noted by u, the diminished pressure of the vertigi- influence of heat, it became hence requisite to employ some different fluid from air. Alcohol was prenous column will be It thus appears that the ferred, as being very expansible ; and from the year 1655, thermometers consisting of rather wider tubes, effect is directly as the square of the celerity, and terminating in balls or large bulbs filled with that inversely as the radius of circumvolution. And since liquid, were manufactured by Italian artists, who imithe rapidity of whirl can never exceed certain limits, the action of a tornado must diminish in tated an arbitrary standard adopted by the Academia Cimento. Such thermometers were clumsy, and proportion to the extent of surface which it oc- del susceptible of only a low range. Rdraer, who made cupies. Suppose the height of the cylinder of air to be 300 feet, the radius of the sweep 500 feet, the fine discovery of the progressive motion of light, proposed mercury as a fluid, sufficiently expansible, and the celerity of its extreme circulation 80 miles and capable of bearing an intense degree of heat. „an hour: , .pi 3.6400.300 Then 50.506—=230 feet, which cor- The origin of the scale was then fixed at the melting point of ice or snow, and the scale itself divided into 8

METEOROLOGY. Meteor- degrees corresponding to the ten thousandth parts of ol °gy- the capacity of the bulb. Yet this mode of construction seemed tedious, and liable to some inaccuracy. by^Fahren- The capital improvement was made in 1724 by Fahheit. renheit, who took another standard point from the boiling of water under the mean pressure of the atmosphere. For many years that ingenious artist manufactured thermometers in Amsterdam on correct principles, very neat and small, adapted especially to medical purposes. The multitudes of young physicians who at that period studied in Holland, quickly dispersed them to every part of the globe. The observations thus obtained gave juster ideas of the comparative temperatures of different climates, and in many cases reduced the exaggerations of travellers to moderate bounds. It thence appeared that the heat of the torrid zone was not so excessive, nor the cold of the arctic regions so intense, as had been commonly represented. The tropical plants could, therefore, enjoy in our hot-houses all the w’armth of their native climate. The thermometer was first applied to direct the operations of horticulture, and afterwards extended to regulate the process of brewing and other arts more immediately depending on practical chemistry. Congelation Quicksilver was deemed preferable to alcohol in the of Quick- filling of the thermometers, not only because of the silver. wide range which it embraces, but on account of the remarkable property which it was afterwards found to possess, of expanding equably with equal accessions of heat. But it failed in the lower part of the scale. The reported sinking of the mercurial thermometer in Siberia appeared to indicate an intensity of cold beyond all conception. But the discovery made by Professor Braun, in 1759, of the actual congelation of mercury itself, reduced the extent of refrigeration to moderate limits. This fluid metal suffers a large contraction in passing into the state of solidity ; and, therefore, though it freezes about 39 degrees below the zero of Fahrenheit, it yet shrinks through a space of more than a hundred degrees before it becomes fixed. As alcohol has never been congealed, though brought, in some experiments we could mention, to 150° below zero, thermometers filled with it are now employed to explore, if not to measure, intense cold. Metallic Metallic thermometers are likewise well adapted e rmome * for examining the state of the atmosphere. They terS t are commonly constructed on the principle of the compensation balance of a chronometer, a spiral or circular spring being composed of two soldered opposite plates of distinct metals, for instance of brass and steel, or of zinc and platinum, which expand very differently under the .action of heat, and therefore continually change their incurvation. Some instruments of this kind, made by Breguet at Paris, are remarkably elegant, and those more lately manufactured by that ingenious artist with a very slender form, surpass all other thermometers in the exquisite sensibility of their indications. Fig. 9, Plate XC VI. represents the first form, reduced to about the fourth part of its natural size. The main piece of mechanism is a circular spring, fixed at one end, and composed of steel and brass soldered together. The other end carries a clip, that acts on a short train of wheels, which turn an index on the dial plate, the extent of the scale, including the range of atmospheric temperature. The VOL. V. PART II,

331 dial with its index are shown by A ; and B exhibits ge- Meteornerally the interior mechanism. Fig. 4, Plate XC VI. ^ oI°gydelineates the latest improvement. To prevent the'^^v^'^ cracking, or dislocation which a large motion of the spring sometimes occasions at the junction of the two metals, a thin plate of a third metal is interposed. Three plates, consisting of platinum, gold, and silver, are united by the rolling press into a single ribband, of the thickness of only 1200th part of an inch. The instrument is formed with about twentyseven spires or circumvolutions of this very slender spring, bearing an index which travels in its circle over 50 centesimal degrees, or 90 degrees by Fahrenheit’s scale. The metallic film is, from its extreme tenuity, almost instantly penetrated by the impressions of heat or cold, and the sensibility of this thermometer accordingly surpasses all conception. It is of much importance in keeping meteorologi- Registering cal journals, to have thermometers that shall indicate Thermomethe extreme changes which occur during the absenceters* of the observer, such as the greatest heat of the day, and the lowest cold of the night. For this object, the metallic thermometers are easily adapted, since their index may push forward or draw back any moveable mark, and thus indicate the limits of its variation. Large mercurial thermometers also, if mounted like the wheel barometers to turn an index, will answer a similar purpose. But smaller instruments, though of a more complex construction, have been generally preferred. The Encyclopedia contains a sufficient account of the Self-registering Thermometer proposed by Lord Charles Cavendish in 1757, and of the more complete instrument described by Mr Six in 1782. The latter has now come into pretty general use, though we are sorry to remark, that it seems to have fallen into the hands of very inferior artists, the scale consisting merely of boxwood, rudely and inaccurately subdivided. Both these instruments have been employed to ascertain the coldness of the ocean at great depths. It becomes requisite, however, to make some allowance for the contraction which the glass bulbs must suffer under the enormous compression of the superincumbent columns of water. This can easily be computed, from the effect of perhaps ten atmospheres in a condensing engine; and such corrections were actually applied to the observations made in Captain Phipps’ voyage in 1773 towards the North Pole. It is a matter of equal surprise and regret, that all such niceties were overlooked in the late expeditions of Captain Ross and Captain Parry to the arctic regions. The simplest, and by far the best self-registering Those of thermometers, though barely noticed in the Encyclo- Rutherford. pedia, are those invented and constructed by the late Dr John Rutherford, of Middle Balilish, and first described in the Transactions of the Royal Society of Edinburgh, for the year 179L The one which marks the minimum is filled with alcohol, and the other which indicates the maximum is filled with quicksilver; and they are both attached to the same frame, or, what is still better, affixed to separate frames, placed nearly horizontal, or rather elevated about five degrees, to prevent the separation of the thread of liquid. The tubes have bores from the 25th to the 15th part of an inch wide, and include a minute tapered or conical piece of ivory, or of white a u

332 Meteor-

METEOROLOGY. or blue enamel, about half an inch long. This mark the orifice, and joined the thread in the stem, as in fig. Meteorhaving in either thermometer its base turned towards 17, Plate XCVI. But when the instrument was re- 0'i08y' the bulb, is drawn to the lowest point by the alcohol, versed, the excluded fluid instantly separated, and which again freely passes it; but it is always pushed sunk into the cavity under the top of the tube, as in forward to the highest limit by the mercury, which fig. 16. In this situation, the descent of the mercurial afterwards leaves it. These marks, however, are now thread in the stem marked the depression of tempemade cylindrical, a little thickened at the ends, and rature. about |ths of an inch in length. (See fig. 7 and 8, A differential thermometer of this construction Plate XCVI.) Fig. 7 exhibits the alcohol or minimum was used for three or four years, in a variety of exthermometer; and fig. 8 the one which indicates the periments, without ever failing. But an open thermaximum, and is filled with quicksilver. mometer must be liable to some uncertainty, and unThis instrument was first employed by Dr Ruther- avoidably subject to a continual deterioration. The ford in some interesting experiments, to ascertain loose mercury will undergo a slow oxydation, while the temperature of germination, and determine the the bore of the tube is apt to be soiled and tarnished depth to which frost penetrates into the ground in by the insensible introduction of moisture. Such an indifferent soils and situations, at the suggestion of his strument, however, is well adapted for many researches. neighbour. Dr Coventry, the very able and intelliIn the beginning of the year 1795, another form Its Simplest gent Professor of Agriculture in the University of of the differential thermometer was devised, which, Form, Edinburgh, both of them proprietors in the small from its simplicity, its delicacy, and extensive applicounty of Kinross. The few instruments of this cation, has contributed essentially to the progress of kind, for some time circulated, were made by the physical and chemical science. This instrument is hands of the inventor ; but artists have since learn- now so generally known, that a few remarks on its ed to imitate and improve the original construction, general construction will be here judged sufficient. and nothing is wanted now but to promote their The differential thermometer is a modification of the diffusion. We regret that this very useful register- air thermometer, but susceptible of the impressions thermometer seems yet to be not so well known in of heat only, and exempt altogether from the influLondon as it deserves. ence of the variations of atmospheric pressure. The Differential The minutest changes which take place in the con- tube to which the scale is applied has a bore of equal rhermome- stitution of bodies are for the most part attended by calibre, from the 50th to the 15th part of an inch corresponding alterations of temperature. To ex- wide, the other branch being commonly wider ; the plore those abstruser operations of nature, which of- terminating balls are not less than four-tenths of an ten betray the influence of more extensive princi- inch in diameter, and seldom exceeding an inch and ples, it was now requisite to improve the delicacy of a half. A glass tube, terminated by a ball containthe thermometer. To this object the writer of the ing air, is joined hermetically, or by the flame of a present article had early turned his attention. At lamp, to another longer tube, terminated by a similar first he enlarged the capacity of the bulb, and thus ball containing air also, but including a small portion procured degrees of such a size on the stem as to of some coloured liquid. The tubes are then bent, be capable of a very distinct subdivision. These in- generally into a recurved or double stem like the letstruments, however, received their impressions very ter U, and the liquid is adjusted to the proper height, slowly ; and, therefore, tubes of extremely fine bores by making bubbles of air pass from the one ball to being selected, he had small bulbs blown, and filled the other, from the little enlargement of the bore with quicksilver, not in the ordinary way, but by the left at the junction of the tubes. If both balls have aid of a compressing force. With such exquisite ther- the same temperature, the liquid must evidently remometers, it was easy to procure much nicer observa- main stationary, but if the ball of the shorter tube tions, and to detect even the finer modifications of cor- be warmed, the air, expanding and exerting more puscular action. But to include the usual range of elasticity, will depress the liquid in the stem; or if temperature, it was necessary to draw the stem to an this ball be cooled, the air, by its contraction, allows immoderate length. The attempt to remedy this in- the liquid to ascend, from the superior elasticity of convenience led to the construction of the first kind the air contained in the opposite ball. The fall or of differential thermometer. The main object was evi- rise of the liquid will, therefore, mark the excess of dently attained, if the mercury should always be made heat or cold in the adjacent ball, and the space to start from some given point. The tube was, there- through which it moves will measure the precise diffore, left open, and a cap adapted to the top contain- ference of temperature.* ing a surplus portion of the fluid. When the thermoAlcohol and other volatile fluids were avoided Its progresmeter was kept inverted, this mercury closed round in filling the tube, lest their vapour should affectsive Improvement. It is not difficult to compute, in general, the size of the scale of the differential thermometer. Let the diameters ot the two balls be expressed in inches by a and b, the diameter of the bore of the tube being denoted y d, and the measure of a centesimal degree by x. The capacities of those balls, cr representing the ratio of the circumference to the diameter of a circle, would hence be ed through the space x would be 'TTCpX

and ~ ; and the portion of liquid rais-

_ ... s tion. Linseed oil, tinged with alkanet root, was first branch, pendant or horizontal, or it may be bent into used; but it was found to be sluggish in its move- two perpendicular branches, whether contiguous or ments, leaving along the inside of the tube a sort of placed at a short distance. Since the motion of the trail, which sometimes collected into globules. But column in the tube is occasioned by the difference of the great objection to this and other fixed oils was, that the elasticity of the air contained in the two balls, they did not remain at the same point of the scale, it is not essential that those balls should be of equal but slowly shifted their place, owing, apparently, to a dimensions, for an equipoise must obtain whenever partial absorption of air in one of the balls, while their the augmented elasticity of the air of the hotter ball orange tint was found to fade away by exposure to is balanced by its expansion, on the one hand, and the light. Deliquiate potash, coloured with archil, the corresponding contraction in the opposite ball, was next employed, and with tolerable success. By joined to the pressure of the ascending column of degrees, however, it deposited the colouring matter, the sulphuric acid. In general the balls are blown and became almost limpid. Hydrogen gas, instead to a certain degree unequal, either to suit the partiof common air, was then adopted for filling the balls. cular instrument, or to please the eye; but in making This mode of construction prevented the deposition observations, it must be kept invariably in the posiof the colouring matter; but it was experienced to tion for which it was designed, whether vertical or be troublesome, and attended with other impedi- horizontal, since the pressure of the balancing coments. After numerous discouraging trials, it was lumn would be affected by an obliquity. at last discovered, that strong sulphuric acid, tinged The differential thermometer, in its pendant form, with carmine, fulfils every condition, remaining per- and extended to a suitable length, from one foot, manently stationary in contact with confined air, perhaps, to three or four feet, may be employed with and never losing in the slightest degree its colour great advantage in comparing the different temperafrom the action of the strongest light Since the tures of adjacent strata of air near the surface of the year 1801, this liquid has been constantly used in earth, during the progress and decline of the day; the construction of the differential thermometer. and to detect the variations in a cloudy or a clear When the exhibition of striking effects, rather than sky, and those occasioned by winds, as modified by scrupulous accuracy, is sought for, tinged alcohol, the quality of the ground, whether naked or clothed indeed, has in a very few cases been preferred, on with vegetation. But the main use of this instruaccount of the great facility and amplitude of its ment in meteorological researches arises from the vamotions. But in every instance, a column of liquid, rious modifications of which it is susceptible. The terminating in the cavity of on« of the balls, or in minute changes of temperature which it marks disa small cylindrical reservoir under it, was preferred, cover the existence and intensity of other disturband not, as proposed by some experimenters, a sin- ing causes. It is thus found, that fresh ploughed gle drop of the liquid, which forces its way through ground is more affected by the solar rays than a the bore by successive starts, and is therefore liable green sward, on which also the breeze has little into much uncertainty and derangement. fluence.

2 2 . - weight . , , ,,they ,become —or 660a?2« 6QQ)d~x 330d ar wherefore, , fto the lent of the atmosphere, — .r 1 330d ——, since

airr expands one 250th part for each centesimal degree, 3 3

U

a3b3

^

A

'

250’

and by reduction

22« ^ . This corresponds to ten of the millesimal degrees adopted for the diffe8250(of 2a3 -{- d^b3) -j- c25a3bz rential thermometer, but the length of an hundred of those degrees which may be preferred as a larger • 3 4# 1 basis for the scale will be Suppose a=--, 6—-, and d=~, of an inch ; then 1650(d2a5 + d2b3) + 5a3b3' 27 64 41x 65* 27 = incheF 27 64 ~1650 4825 3-76-1-5 * Ifthe bal]s be of equal +5 27 1225* 1728 diameters, this expression for the length of an hundred degrees in inches will become simply 7 44a’ 3300d2-f 5«J' : 1 of an inch ; then 44 X 512 Ihus, suppose a—-4 and d=— =3.62 inches. If the density of the sul3300 f5X-512 900 phuric acid were reduced from 1.85 to 162, the expression for the length of ten degrees would pass into this very simple form

VsGc^-f-a3

334 Meteorology.

Hygroscopes.

METEOROLOGY, III. The Hygrometer.*—The mutable condition cannot be detached from them without injuring their Meteor0f the atmosphere, as it inclines to dryness or humislender texture. The increase of bulk which they ol°gydity, is the main source of all the variety of mete- acquire from the portion of moisture attracted into ^ v^**1 orological phenomena. The changes which it un- their substance, furnishes therefore a more certain dergoes with respect to moisture have a marked in- and convenient indication of the state of the atmofluence on a very numerous class of substances, and sphere. The solid vegetable and animal fibres are even on the animal frame. But unfortunately those connected by a fine soft netting, in which the power indications are always vague, and often fallacious. of absorption appears chiefly to reside. Hence the To ascertain the portion of humidity which a given presence of moisture always enlarges the breadth of quantity of air holds, or is capable of sustaining, is a such substances, without affecting in any sensible deproblem of the first importance; but our advances gree their length. This effect is visible in the swellto the constructing of an instrument fit to measure ing of a door by external dampness, and in the shrinkwith accuracy that disposition have been extremely ing of a pannel from the opposite cause. But the slow. substances, such as paper or parchment, which have Most substances of a loose and spongy texture, or a diffuse or interlaced texture, are extended, by the possessed of an absorbent quality, are affected, though absorption of humidity, almost equally in every diin very different degrees, by the presence of humidity. rection. On the contrary, twisted cord and gut, beAccordingly the variations, both in weight and bulk, ing swelled by moisture, suffer a corresponding lonwhich absorbent bodies undergo, have been employed gitudinal contraction, accompanied likewise, if not to indicate the disposition of the air with respect confined, by some uncoiling of their fibres. to moisture. For this reason, such substances are All these properties have severally been employed likewise termed hygroscopic; since they are always in the construction of hygroscopes. The expansion affected by the state of the ambient medium, though of the thin cross sections of box or other hard wood, they may not precisely measure its degrees of humi- the elongation of the human hair or of a slice of dity or dryness. But neither heat nor moisture is whale-bone, and the untwisting of the wild oat, of catpassively diffused, or yet shared among different bo- gut, of a cord or linen thread, and of a species of dies in equal proportions. From some experiments grass brought from India,—have at different times made by Professor Leslie, it appears that, under a like been used with various success. But the instruments change of circumstances, 100 grains of ivory will at- so formed are either extremely dull in their motions, tract from the atmosphere 7 grains of humidity; the or if they acquire greater sensibility from the attesame weight of boxwood, 14 grains ; of eider down, nuation of their substance, they are likewise render16; of wool, 18; dnd of beech, 28. Other sub- ed the more subject to accidental injury and derangestances, in their respective measures of absorption, ment ; and all of them in time appear to lose insensiexhibit still wider differences. bly their tone and proper action. The dry or humid state of the air is therefore disAn attempt was lately made by Professor Leslie Ivory Hycovered, from the variable weight of certain bodies to revive the method of measuring the expansion ofgIOSCOPe’ exposed to its influence. Rock salt has been applied absorbent cohesive substances, by their enlargement to that purpose; but potash, the muriate of lime, of capacity when disposed into a thin shell; and, by sulphuric acid, and most of the deliquescent sub- successive steps, he carried the hygroscope thus formstances, whether in a solid or a liquid form, act the ed to as high a state of improvement as perhaps such most powerfully. Other materials of a firm or ad- an imperfect instrument will admit. A piece of fine hesive consistence manifest the same properties, grained ivory, about an inch and quarter in length, though in a lower degree. Plates of slate-clay or was turned into an elongated spheroid, as thin as posof unglazed earthen-ware, the shavings of box or sible, weighing only 8 or 10 grains, but capable of horn, paper or parchment, wool or down,—all act as containing, at its greatest expansion, about 300 hygroscopes. But these substances, especially the grains of mercury; and the upper end, which was harder kinds of them, unless they be extremely thin, adapted to the body by means of a delicate screw, receive their impressions very slowly, and hence they had a slender tube inserted, 6 or 8 inches long, and cannot mark with any precision the fleeting and mo- with a bore of nearly the 15th part of an inch in diamentary state of the ambient medium. Nor is the meter. (See fig. 19, Plate XCVII.) The instrument weight which they gain by exposure proportioned being now fitted together, its elliptical shell was dipto the real dampness of the air; for the measures of ped into distilled water, or lapped round with a wet their successive absorption are found to increase in bit of linen, and after a considerable interval of time, a most rapid progression, as they approach to the filled with mercury to some convenient point near the point of absolute humidity. bottom of the tube, where is fixed the beginning of the But to weigh the substances with the accuracy be- scale. The divisions themselves were ascertained by fitting such experiments, is a very delicate and distinguishing the tube into spaces which correspond troublesome operation. Those thin bodies are lia- each of them to the thousandth part of the entire cable, besides, to become in time covered with dust, vity, and equal to the measure of about three-tenths which, while it must evidently augment their weight, of a grain of mercury. The ordinary range of the

From Tygog, wet, or humid, and a measure. Hygrometer is distinguished from Hyrn-oscone : the ormer measuring the humidity of the air, and the latter only vaguely marking its presence. &

meteorolog y. Meteor- scale included about 70 of those divisions. To the ol°gy- upper end of the tube was adapted a small ivory cap, which allowed the penetration of air, but prevented the escape of the mercury, and thereby rendered the instrument tolerably portable. Peculiarity This hygroscope was largely, though rather slowly, of its Con- affected by any change in the humidity of the ambitractions. ent me(jjum> As the air became drier, it attracted a portion of moisture from the shell or bulb of ivory, which, suffering in consequence a contraction, squeezed its contained mercury so much higher in the tube. But if, on the contrary, the air inclined more to dampness, the thin bulb imbibed moisture and swelled proportionally, allowing the quicksilver to subside towards its enlarged cavity. These variations, however, were very far from corresponding with the real measures of atmospheric dryness or humidity. Near the point of extreme dampness, the alterations of the hygroscope were much augmented; but they diminished rapidly, as the mercury approached the upper part of the scale. The contraction of the ivory answering to an equal rise in the dryness of the air, was found to be six times greater at the beginning of the scale than at the seventieth hygroscopic division; and seemed in general to be inversely as the number of hygrometric degrees, reckoning from 20 below. Mr Leslie placed, therefore, another scale along the opposite side of the tube, the space between the zero and the seventieth division of the hygroscope being distinguished into 100 degrees, and corresponding to the unequal portions from the number 20 to 120 on a logarithmic line. This very singular property will be more easily conceived from the inspection of the figure. The scale might probably be extended farther by continuing the logarithmic divisions. Thus, 320 degrees by the hygrometer would answer to 108 of the hygroscope, or to a contraction of 108 parts in a thousand in the capacity of the bulb. But at the dryness of 300, the contraction of the ivory seemed never to exceed 105. Boxwood was likewise formed into a hygroscope, of the same shape and dimensions; but this absorbent material swells twice as much with moisture as ivory does, and therefore requires its inserted tube to be proportionally longer or wider. Its contractions are still more unequal than those of ivory. For, near the point of extreme humidity, those alterations in the capacity of the bulb appeared to be more than twenty times greater than, under like changes in the condition of the atmosphere, take place towards the upper part of the scale. The space included between the commencement and the hundred and fortieth millesimal division of the scale, might hence be marked with 100 hygrometric degrees corresponding to the decreasing portions of a logarithmic line from 5 to 105. In noticing the rapidly declining contractions which ivory and box-wood undergo, Mr Leslie did not mean, however, to state the quantities with rigorous precision. Much time had been consumed in attempting to trace out the law of those gradations; and such experiments are rendered the more tedious, from the protracted action of the hygroscope, which often continues travelling slowly for the space of a quarter or even half an hour. This tardiness is indeed the

)

335

great defect of all instruments of that nature, and Meteoruuerly disqualifies them from every sort of delicate t oI°gyobservation. The very large expansions which the hygroscope shows on its approach to extreme humidity, explains in a satisfactory manner the injury which furniture and pieces of cabinet-work sustain from the prevalence of dampness. On the other hand, the slight alteration which the instrument undergoes in a medium of highly dry atmosphere, seems to have led most philosophers to believe that there is an absolute term of dryness, on the distance of which from the point of extreme moisture, they have generally founded the graduation of the different hygroscopes proposed by them. This opinion, however, is far from being correct, and might give occasion to most erroneous conclusions. No bounds can be set to the actual dryness of the air, or the quantity of moisture which it is capable of holding, which, by the joint application of heat and rarefaction, may be pushed to an almost indefinite extent. The ivory hygroscope, after being for several hours immersed in air remarkably dry, was apt of a sudden to split longitudinally. But if the bulb endured such a range of contraction, it appeared in some instances to take at least another set, or to accommodate its constitution, by imperceptible changes, to the state of the surrounding medium. But though the bulbous hygroscope is, in extreme cases, liable to much uncertainty and some risk, it may yet be used with visible advantage, in certain peculiar situations. The very sluggishness of the instrument, when the value of its divisions has been once ascertained, fits it so much the better for indicating the mean results. After being long exposed in situations hardly accessible, it may be conveniently transported for inspection, before it can suffer any sensible change. The hygroscope could be, therefore, employed with success, to discover the degree of humidity which prevails at considerable elevations in the atmosphere. It might be likewise used, for ascertaining readily the precise condition of various goods and commodities. Thus, if the bulb were introduced, for the space perhaps of half an hour, into a bag of wool, a sack of corn, or a bale of paper, it would, on being withdrawn from their contact, mark the dryness or humidity of those very absorbent substances. Other hygroscopic substances have at different times been proposed, which, though possessed of greater sensibility, are yet liable to the same general objections. Thus, quills, reeds, gold beaters’ skin or pellicle, the skins of frogs, or the bladders of rats, were made to act like the bulbs of thermometers, and to cause, by their contraction or dilatation, as they inclined to dryness or humidity, the included quicksilver to rise or fall in rather a wide tube. These instruments, however, being subject to injury or derangement from the smallest accident, can scarcely be applied to any practical use. The hygroscopes which depend on the elongation of the fibres are perhaps on the whole preferable. The slice of whalebone proposed by M. Deluc, and the human hair afterwards employed by M. de Saussure, are both of them sufficiently sensible to

336 METEOROLOGY. Meteor- external impressions; but the difficulty is to deter- atmospheric pressure being equal to that of a co- Meteoro! °gy- mine the precise relation subsisting between those lumn of the oil 420 inches in height. Having now ologyimpressions and the state of the atmosphere. Humo spread a few drops of water over a surface of plate dity is not distributed in equal shares through the glass, and slipped the tumbler upon it, the included air and among the several absorbent substances ex- air quickly dissolved as much moisture as was suffiposed to its penetration; nor are the degrees of ex- cient for its saturation, and marked the expansion pansion which it communicates either uniform or thence acquired, by forcing the oil to rise proporproportional to its quantity. The graduation of such tionally. The quantity of effect varied much, but instruments, being thus in a great measure arbitrary, was often very considerable, amounting, in fine weacan furnish no correct data of the hygrometric state ter, to 110 or 120 degrees. This little apparatus of the atmosphere. The assumption of two fixed appeared to answer the purpose intended, but it was extreme points as the basis of the scale is evidently not portable, and it always required some address. erroneous. Air contained within a glass receiver may It soon gave wray, therefore, to other instruments, be rendered as damp as possible, by the copious asper- which promised to be more easily and readily managed. sion of water on the sides; but it can never be absoAs an hygrometer of this kind exhibits the actual lutely deprived of its moisture, which adheres the more expansion or increase of elasticity, which the air acpowerfully in proportion as it becomes diminished. quires from complete humifaction, it seemed calcuCaustic alkalis, concentrated acids, and some of the lated for indicating the variable power of a drier or deliquescent salts, aided by the action of heat, all ren- a moister atmosphere in refracting the rays of light. der the air drier, but without being able to complete The barometer and thermometer had long been emthe desiccation. By the combined application of other ployed to correct the quantity of refraction ; but the agents, and even by mechanical pressure, the driest application of an accurate hygrometer seemed no air can always be made to deposit some farther por- less necessary for delicate observations. An instrution of moisture. ment of the composition now described was accordM. de Saussure directed all the resources of his ingly entrusted, in the course of the year 1794, to ingenuity to correct the anomalies of the instrument the late Dr Maskelyne, and deposited in the Royal which he proposed, and at last succeeded, by multi- Observatory of Greenwich. Other objects, however, plied precautions, in rendering it as perfect, perhaps, interfered, and an investigation, which promised imas its nature and composition will admit. The hair- portant results, was never prosecuted on a regular hygroscope (for it is not entitled to the name of hy- and digested plan. grometer) certainly shows mobility; but the degrees This instrument might be rendered still more ac-ItsComwhich it marks can afford no steady or tolerably cor- curate, by combining it with the principle of the dif-Poun‘1Forra' rect estimate of the dryness of the atmosphere.*' ferential thermometer. Let two similar tumblers r Expansion p0 arrive at an accurate measure of the dry- (see fig. 5, Plate XCVI., where it is contracted to Hygroinc.. negs 0p ajr^ jj. jg necessary to pursue a different about the fourth part of its size), A and B, invertroute. Steam, in whatever way it be formed, whe- ed and loaded, have their mouths ground to fit a ther by the application of heat, or the diminution of glass plate, the air contained in each of them actatmospheric pressure, has nearly the double of the ing by its elasticity on the column of a recurved elasticity of common air, or it would, under the tube, C, which connects their cavities. Slide both same compressing force, occupy about twice as much of these tumblers in a dry state upon their bases, space. In uniting with that fluid, and forming va- dip a hair-pencil in oil, and pass it round the outpour, it must hence communicate an expansion ex- side of the mouth of A, to make it quite tight; actly proportional to the quantity dissolved, or to then having removed B, and spread a few drops of the share of moisture required for the complete sa- water over its place, slip it on the plate again. The turation of the air. This principle suggested to Mr air included in B, now absorbing moisture, will conLeslie the means of constructing an accurate hygro- tinue to expand and to press upon the liquid column, meter, to which his researches had been early di- till it has become absolutely saturated. Should any rected. Inverting a barrel-tumbler, he ground the change take place in the temperature of the room mouth perfectly flat, and having drilled a hole through during this process, it can have no effect in derangthe bottom, he cemented into it a syphon-gage, or ing the indication of the instrument, since it must slender recurved tube, with a narrow bore, and an influence precisely in the same degree the elasticity intermediate swell or cavity, passing through a per- of the air contained in both balls, and thus produce forated cap of lead, and holding a portion of nut oil, an exact counter-balance. tinged with alkanet root. (See Fig. 6, Plate XCVI., This compound instrument is adapted to various Mode of aswhere it is represented half the natural size.) To delicate physical inquiries. In the union of different certaining form the scale, he divided 4.2 inches into an hundred substances, a certain alteration of volume, however equal parts ; so that each degree corresponded to the minute, almost invariably takes place. To ascertain0 U ten thousandth part of the air’s elasticity, the whole such changes under various circumstances greatly ex-

* From the few observations which we have yet had time to make with an instrument of this kind recently brought from Geneva, we are sorry to say, that it falls much below our expectations. Its motions are slow and irregular; and it seems to be little affected by very considerable alterations of the state of the encircling medium.

M E T E O tends our views of the empire of chemical affinit}7. For instance, a small bit of fresh charcoal introduced un^der one of the tumblers will mark its absorption of the air, by the consequent rising of the coloured liquid. But the tumbler being wetted over the inside, and a portion of dry, though not recent, charcoal, with a pared surface, placed within it, after the air has ceased to dilate from humifaction, if the charcoal be brought in contact with water, the liquor will again rise, and continue for some time to indicate a renewed expansion. As the water is imbibed by the charcoal, minute globules of air will appear to escape. But if the water, by its insinuation, had merely dislodged the air from the pores, there would have been no change of volume, and consequently no alteration in the height of the liquid on the scale. Those aerial globules must have, therefore, expanded as they emerged, or they had existed in a state of condensation united to the charcoal. On the other hand, if a roll of unsized paper, linen rags, slips of wood, or saw-dust, be successively introduced under a tumbler in which a little water is easily shed, the coloured liquor will sink rapidly in proportion as the moisture is absorbed. In this case, there is an obvious diminution of volume, and an union produced between a liquid and a solid, quite analogous to chemical solution; whereas capillary action, such as the ascent of water through sand, is attended by no change whatever of the space occupied by the compound. Another application of this instrument was to place under the tumbler separate capsules containing different substances, liquid or solid, which exert a mutual attraction. The included air in this case served as the vehicle of transfer, and a sort of distillation was supported, of a peculiar kind. The indications of this invisible process were variable, and often striking. But to enlarge on this subject would be foreign to our purpose. We have only taken the opportunity of noting a few of the results of an inquiry which was not pushed to any extent, but which deserves to be resumed, as likely to open new paths, and to unfold the more abstruse relations subsisting among different bodies. Philosophers have long entertained very crude noConfused ideas of the tions respecting the union of moisture with air, and Process of Hrapora- the different circumstances which regulate or influence the process of evaporation. Dr Halley supr ways accompanies the process. It was commonlyJt' referred to the operation of different concurring circumstances, among which the agitation of the air was conceived to perform the principal part. The dryness of that medium, on which we shall find the. effect alone to depend, was in a great measure overlooked, or was confounded with other occasional agents. An evident confusion of ideas prevailed. The celerity of evaporation was mistaken for its intensity, and the coldness induced on the exhaling surface was viewed as the accumulated effect of a rapid dissipation of moisture. It was not perceived that in a free atmosphere, vaporization proceeds with unabated energy, while the corresponding depression of temperature must advance by a relaxing progression, since otherwise the accession of an accelerated movement might push it to any extent. A little reflection, indeed, should have convinced philosophers, that the reduced temperature caused by vaporization must, in given circumstances, have a certain limit beyond which it cannot pass. But simple as this conclusion may now appear, it had escaped the most sagacious inquirers. Even Saus.3

METEOROLOGY. Meteor- sure, a patient and accurate experimenter, perol °gy- suaded himself that, when water evaporates slowj the co](j produced is scarcely perceptible. To render this sensible, therefore, he thought it necessary to accelerate evaporation. Inserting the ball s of a thermometer in a wet sponge, and attaching a cord to its stem, he whirled it briskly round his head, and thus produced a cold of 18 degrees by Fahrenheit’s scale, which he considered as much greater than could be obtained by other processes. To prosecute the inquiry, he had a sort of whirling table constructed, of about five feet diameter, by means of which a thermometer with its bulb incased in wet sponge, could be made to revolve with the velocity of 40 feet in a second. This machine he was at the trouble and expence of having carried up to the summit of the Col-du-Geant, where, during a residence of several days, he performed a series of interesting and valuable experiments. It did not occur to this philosopher, that by such a contrivance he was only creating to himself a vast deal of unnecessary fatigue, and that his wet thermometer, if left simply at rest for the space of two or three minutes, would have indicated exactly the same results. By all his exertions, he merely shortened the very moderate time required for attaining its extreme limit of depression. Such were the imperfect notions which still prevailed on the subject of evaporation, so late as the year 1796, the date of the publication of the last volume of the Voyages dans les Alpes. It is curious to remark, that Dr Black, in his Lectures, never mentions the dryness of the air as any way promoting evaporation, but ascribes the acceleration of the process entirely to the warmth and agitation of that medium. His friend, Dr James Hutton, whose acuteness and penetration were conspicuous, had probably studied the phenomenon more closely. “ I never had a hygrometer,” he says ; “ but I used to amuse myself in walking in the fields, by observing the temperature of the air with the thermometer, and trying its dryness by the evaporation of water. The method I pursued was this: I had a thermometer included within a glass tube, hermetically sealed ; this I held in a proper situation until it acquired the temperature of the atmosphere, and then I dipped it into a little water also cooled to the same temperature I then exposed my thermometer, with its glass case wetted to a current of air; and I examined how much the evaporation of the atmosphere, by holding the ball of the thermometer, or the end of the tube in which the ball was inclosed towards the current of air ; and I examined how much the evaporation from that glass tube cooled the ball of the thermometer which was included.” He then proceeds to relate some hasty and very inaccurate observations made in this way. The passage now quoted occurs in a quarto volume, published in 1792, buried in a repulsive mass of diffuse reasoning and paradoxical speculation, unsupported by any definite experiment. But Dr Hutton had evidently considered it as a conjectural hint on which he laid little stress ; for he speaks immediately afterwards of our possessing accurate hygrometers, which could not be admitted if the assumption he seemed to make had been strictly true.

While such loose and imperfect notions prevailed Meteorrespecting evaporation, it was expedient to review olo§ythe process with attention, and analyse the several changes which accompany it. The depression °fp^Opera” temperature which it always occasions had been ti0n. v hastily supposed to be proportional to the rate with which the moisture is dissipated, and to be therefore augmented by every circumstance that can accelerate this effect. But if water contained in a porous vessel expose on all sides its surface to a current of air, it will cool down to a certain point, and there its temperature will remain stationary. The rapidity of the current must no doubt hasten the term of equilibrium, but the degree of cold thus induced will be found still the same. A little reflection may discover how this takes place. It is well known that the conversion of water into steam is, in every case, attended by the absorption of the heat requisite to support a gaseous constitution. Though the humid surface has now ceased to grow colder, the dispersion of invisible vapour, and the corresponding abstraction of heat, still continue without intermission. The same medium, therefore, which transports the vapour, must also furnish the portion of heat required for its incessant formation. In fact, after the water has been once cooled down, each portion of the ambient air which comes to touch the evaporating surface must, from its contact with a substance so greatly denser than itself, be likewise cooled down to the same standard, and must hence communicate to the liquid its surplus heat, or the difference between the prior and the subsequent state of the solvent, which is proportioned to the diminution of temperature it has suffered. Every shell of air that in succession encircles the humid mass, while it absorbs, along with the moisture which it dissolves, the measure of heat to convert this into steam does at the same instant thus deposite an equal measure of its own heat, on the chill exhaling surface. The abstraction of heat by vaporization on the one hand, and its deposition on the other, at the surface of contact, are, therefore, opposite contemporaneous acts, which soon produce a mutual balance, and thereafter the resulting temperature continues without the smallest alteration. A rapid circulation of the evaporating medium may quicken the operation of those causes ; but so long as it possesses the same drying quality, it cannot in any degree derange the resulting temperature. The heat deposited by the air on the humid surface becomes thus an accurate measure of the heat spent in vaporizing the portion of moisture required for the saturation of that solvent at its lowered temperature. The dryness of the air is, therefore, under all circumstances, precisely indicated, by the depression of temperature produced on a humid surface which has been exposed freely to its action. It may insure perspicuity, however, to recapitulate the great principle on which the formation of the hygrometer depends.—When water passes into steam or vapour, it enlarges its capacity, and absorbs a very large share of heat. Any body, therefore, having a wet surface, becomes generally colder, if exposed to the access of air. But this decrease of temperature soon attains a certain limit, where it continues stationary, though the dissipation of moisture still pro8

33Q METEOROLOGY. ceeds with undiminished activity. The same me- the whole length of the bore, being, by this change Meteordium which transports the vapour must hence fur- of position, cut off at the top of the tube, immediate- ^ oIog-v' nish also the portion of heat required for its inces- ly contracted, and marked, by the space of its descent, sant formation. In fact, after the humid surface the diminution of temperature in the liquid. has been cooled, each portion of the ambient air The very severe winter of 1794-5 afforded Leslie’s which comes to touch it, must likewise be cooled Mr Leslie an opportunity of making experiments on HySrometerdown to the level of the dense substratum. The ad- the evaporation of ice ; in the course of which, he dition of heat at the surface of contact is thus a was led to the construction of the differential thercontemporaneous act with its subtraction by the mometer, now so generally known. At first he emprocess of vaporization ; and it quickly advances to ployed it merely as an hygrometer, the one ball bethe same degree of intensity, after which a mutual ing always naked, and the other covered with cambalance of opposite effects is maintained, and the bric, wetted as often as occasion required. These coldness hence induced continues unaltered. An balls were about an inch and a half in diameter, and augmented circulation of the evaporating medium blown to the ends of the same tube, one of them may hasten the process; but w-hile it has the same having a projecting point or aperture, which was drying quality, it cannot in the least affect the de- sealed, after the branches had been bent and a porpression of temperature. As soon as such an equili- tion of coloured oil introduced. The graduation of brium is attained, the deposition of heat on the hu- the scale was determined, by placing the instrument mid surface must become just equal to its abstraction. erect between two boxes, each containing a body of But this deposition is evidently proportional to the water, which encompassed one of the balls, and by nodiminution of temperature, which is hence a measure ticing the rise of the oil on changing the relative temof the share of heat abstracted, and therefore of the perature of the bath. An hygrometer, thus formed, dryness of the air, or its distance from saturation. was sent to the late Sir Joseph Banks, in the summer This analysis of the process of evaporation ap- of 1795 ; and Mr Gilpin, clerk of the Royal Society, Confirmed by Experi- pears so conclusive, as to banish all doubt and ob- deposited a copy of it in their cabinet. But this ment. jection. But it was desirable to confirm the deduc- model is so rude and clumsy, as hardly to recall the tions of theory by an appeal to direct observation. original. In the hands of the inventor, however, the Accordingly, on setting the hygrometer upon a table instrument was soon improved, and reduced to a conin the middle of a room, and blowing from some dis- venient and portable size. He had the satisfaction tance against the wet ball with a pair of bellows, which of showing an hygrometer of this construction, in had acquired the temperature of the apartment, the January 1796, to Dr James Hutton, only a few instrument still indicated the same measure of dry- months before the death of that very ingenious phiness. The experiment was repeated more accurate- losopher, who was delighted with seeing the applily on a larger scale, by exposing the hygrometer cation of a principle which he readily comprehendout of doors to the action of a strong and arid wind, ed, and which his sagacity had obscurely anticipated. a small screen being interposed and again removed, But the sluggishness of the oil, and its tendency at short intervals of time, during which alterna- to deposite its colouring matter, on exposure to the tions no change whatever could be perceived in the influence of light, still opposed obstacles to the perquantity of the depression of temperature. fection of this hygrometer. These were entirely reHaving, therefore, ascertained the great law of eva- moved, however, about the year 1801, by the subporation, and proved that the coldness occasioned by stitution of concentrated sulphuric acid, tinged by it is not, in any degree, affected by agitation or other carmine. The most powerful and continued action extraneous influence, nothing seemed wanting to of the solar beams was found to produce no change construct an Hygrometer on just principles, but to whatever on that purpurine liquid, when precluded contrive a thermometer that should mark the small- from the access of the external air. Any improveest alterations of temperature. At first Mr Leslie ments which have since been effected on this inemployed a very delicate thermometer with a short strument consist chiefly in its mechanical arrangerange, open at the top, where a small cap of glass ment, in the selection of the tubes, the better pi-oor ivory was fixed, containing a small portion of sur- portion of the balls, and the elegance and conciseplus quicksilver. (See fig. 16 and 17, Plate XCVI.) ness of the general shape. When this thermometer was heated by the hand, till The hygrometer has two distinct forms ; the one Its Conthe thread of quicksilver filled the whole of the stem, portable and the other stationary. The former (see struction. and formed a little globule at the top ; it was invert- fig. 13, Plate XCVI.) having its balls in the same ed as in fig. 17, and all the quicksilver united into perpendicular line, is protected by a wooden or meone mass; but when it was restored, as in fig. 18, to tallic case, and fitted for carrying in the pocket; two its first position, the quicksilver fell back from the or three drops of pure water, from the tip of a quill cap, and lodged about the end of the stem, leaving or a hair pencil, being applied to the surface of the the bore completely filled. A cup (see fig. 1, Plate covered ball, and the instrument held exactly in a XCVI.) made of thin porous earthen-ware, nearly of vertical position whenever it is used. The latter form the shape of a lady’s thimble, but somewhat larger, (see fig. 12) is susceptible of rather greater accuand filled with water, was exposed to the air, while racy, having its balls bent opposite ways at the same the thermometer lay beside it in a horizontal posi- height. In some instances, it is preferable to retain tion. After a few minutes, the thermometer was lift- merely the simplest form of the differential thermoed up and plunged vertically into the cup; and the meter, the vertical stems being more distant, and the thread of quicksilver, which had extended through balls not reflected, In both these constructions, the VOL. V. PART II. xx Meteorology.

METEOROLOGY. 340 Meteor- two balls, since they occupy the same level, cannot poise : then, with a hair pencil, spread two grains of MeteoroIogy ol ' °gy- be affected in the smallest degree, by the unequal water over the surface of each pellicle : in a few se- v temperatures of the different strata of air in a close conds, the plate which is coated with tinfoil will preheated room. After the covered ball has been ponderate, and after the former has lost all its moiswetted, the instrument will continue to perform un- ture, this will be found to retain still three-tenths of impaired, for the space, perhaps, of two or three a grain. The proximity of the subjacent metal to hours. The addition of a few drops of water will the humid surface, therefore, impedes the process of then restore its action. But the hygrometer may be evaporation, in the ratio of 17 to 20; the very same made to supply itself with moisture. It is only want- as, in like circumstances, had been ascertained to be ed to pass some fibres of floss-silk close over the hu- the retardation of the efflux of heat. From this and mid ball, and immerse them at the distance of a few other experiments, we learn, that some constant porinches in a tall glass decanter, full of water, with tion from a humid surface is always abstracted by the pulsation of the aerial medium. The steam exa stopper which leaves open a small projecting lip. The hygrometer has its opposite balls made to ex- haled, in uniting with the air, communicates to this hibit nearly the same colour and opacity, in order to elastic fluid a sudden dilatation, which will continue exclude the admixture of photometrical influence, or to propagate itself in successive waves. In farther illustration of this matter, cover with a prevent any derangement which the unequal action of light might otherwise occasion. The naked ball is thin pellicle of goldbeater’s skin, both the balls of blown of red, green, or blue glass, and the papered one the pyroscope, or that form of the differential theris externally covered with thin silk, of rather a fainter mometer which has one ball naked, and the other enamelled with gold or silver, and wet them equally. shade, as it takes a deeper tint when moistened. Its Theory The theory which we have given of the hygrome- The coloured liquid will remain for several minutes completed. ter) corroborated by its accurate performance, might stationary at the beginning of the scale, and will appear complete in every part. But the progress of then mount slowly, perhaps 10 or 15 degrees. Evascience commonly detects the existence of some col- poration had, therefore, produced the same cold or lateral causes which come to mingle their influence depression of temperature upon the surface of the with the action of the great dominating principles. metal as upon that of the glass ; from the glass, In our explication of the hygrometer, we stated that however, it was more copious than from the metal, the same air which abstracts moisture, and conse- having left the former dry, while the latter still exquently the portion of heat necessary to convert it haled some portion of moisture. But this action into the gaseous form, must likewise communicate to soon ceased, and the liquid fell back to its former the wet ball another portion of heat equal to its de- level. On applying another pellicle, the liquid condepression of temperature, which is hence maintained tinued longer stationary, and rose only about five r at a constant point. This analysis, however, in- grees. With repeated pellicles a difference w as pervolves the supposition that the air conveys heat from ceptible in the time of drying the two balls, till the bodies, merely by its actual transfer. But having thickness amounted to the 600th part of an inch. The method employed for the graduation of the The xMode discovered that air transmits a certain share, at least, Gradualof the heat by a sort of pulsation, or internal tremor, hygrometer is not only very convenient, but suscep- inglt ’ depending on the quality of the surface from which tible of great accuracy. The instrument, with a the impression originates ; it was requisite to exa- temporary scale affixed to it, is introduced into a mine anew the process of evaporation. The effect magazine of dry air, and compared with a standard cannot be produced solely, by the quickened re- then put in action. To procure the dryness of the cession of the contiguous portions of the ambient included medium, a flat saucer of thirteen inches in medium. The conterminous air must communi- diameter, and holding a body, about half an inch cate heat to the humid surface also by pulsation ; deep, of concentrated sulphuric acid, and set on a and hence the balance of temperature would be li- ground plate of glass or metal, is covered by a very able to incidental variations, if moisture, with its em- large inverted receiver, containing more than 1500 cubodied heat, were not likewise abstracted by some bic inches of air, and having at the top an opening of corresponding process. And such is the harmoni- three inches wide, on which rests a smaller plate, ous adaptation of these elements : The discharge of with two or three hooks projecting down from it. vapour appears to be subject precisely to the same The scale of the standard instrument w’as determinconditions as the emission of heat, and in both cases ed, by suspending beside it under the receiver two the proximity of a vitreous or a metallic surface pro- delicate thermometers, one of which had its bulb duces effects which are entirely similar. Let two coated with several folds of wet tissue paper. The pieces of thin mirror-glass, or what is called Dutch descent of the coloured liquid of the hygrometer, plate, be selected, about four inches and a half corresponding to the difference of ten centesimal desquare; and having applied a smooth coat of tinfoil, grees of the parallel thermometers, was hence comfour inches square, to one of these, cover them both puted, and this length afterwards divided into an with a layer of the thinnest goldbeater’s skin, which hundred equal parts, to form the standard degrees. will adhere closely on being wetted; and after it has To graduate any other instrument, it was only reagain become dry, cut it on each into an exact quisite to attach a scale of inches, and mark the sisquare of four inches and a quarter : Now place the multaneous measures, when a steady equilibrium had two glass plates horizontally in the opposite scales of at last obtained. The space of half an hour is genea fine balance, and adjust them to an exact counter- rally sufficient to bring this about- A simple pro-

341 M E T E 0 R 0 L O G Y. Meteor- portion, therefore, discovers the length answering to that solvent with the measure of heat required to Meteorol °gy- an hundred millesimal degrees, from which the sub- convert a given portion of water into steam. To , t discover the capacity of air is, however, a problem of divisions of each particular scale are derived. The condition of the atmosphere with respect to great difficulty, and it has not, perhaps, even yet dryness is extremely variable. In our climate, the been ascertained with much precision. It was forhygrometer will, during winter, mark from 5 to 25 merly estimated, we are convinced, by far too high : degrees ; but, in the summer months, it will gene- Thus, Dr Crawford made it to be 1.85 times, or nearrally range between 15 and 55 degrees, and may ly double that of water. But from several concureven rise, on some particular days, as high as 80 or ring observations, we should reckon the capacity of 90 degrees. On the continent of Europe, it main- air to be only three-tenth parts of that of water. tains a much greater elevation ; and in Upper India But 600 centesimal degrees, or 6000 on the millesiit has frequently stood at 160 degrees. mal scale, being consumed in the vaporization of When the indication of the hygrometer does not water, this measure of heat would prove sufficient to exceed 15 degrees, we are directed by our feelings raise an equal mass of air 20,000 millesimal degrees, to call the air damp ; from SO to 40 degrees we be- or those 6000 degrees augmented in the ratio of 10 gin to reckon it dry; from 50 to 60 degrees we to 3. Now, at the state of equilibrium, the quantity should account it very dry; and from 70 degrees of heat that each portion of the aerial medium deupwards, we might consider it as intensely dry. A posites in touching the chill exhaling surface, or room is not comfortable, or perhaps wholesome, if it what answers to the depression of temperature which has less than SO degrees of dryness ; but the atmo- it suffers from this contact, must, as we have seen, sphere of a warm occupied apartment will commonly be exactly equal to the opposite measure of heat abstracted by it in dissolving its corresponding share of produce an effect of upwards of 50 degrees. Its Perform- ®ut this hygrometer will perform its office even if moisture. Wherefore, at the temperature of the ance during it be exposed to frost. The moisture spreads over wet ball, atmospheric air would take up moisture Frost. t}le surface, and imbibed into the coat of the paper- amounting to the 20,000th part of its weight, for each ed ball, will first cool a few degrees below the freez- degree marked by the hygrometer. Thus, supposing point, and then congeal quickly into a solid com- ing the hygrometer to mark 50 degrees, the air would pound mass. The moment in which congelation be- then require humidity equal to the 320th part of gins, a portion of heat liberated in that act brings its weight for saturation at its reduced temperature. the ball back to the temperature of freezing, and the When the papered ball of the hygrometer is frozen, coloured liquor, in proportion to the coldness of the ex- the degrees of this instrument must have their value ternal air, starts up in the opposite stem, where it re- increased by one-seventh, so that each of them will mains at the same height, till the process of consolida- now correspond to an absorption of moisture equal tion is completed. After the icy crust has been form- to the 17,000th part of the weight of the air. ed, evaporation again goes regularly forward; and if But the value of those degrees becomes augmentnew portions of water be applied, the ice will, from ed in a much higher proportion, if the hygrometer the union of those repeated films, acquire a thickness be immersed in hydrogen gas. This very dilute mesufficient to last for several days. The temperature dium appears to have about eight times the capacity of the frozen coat becomes lowered in proportion to of common air, and the quantity of heat which, unthe dryness of the atmosphere. The measure of der similar circumstances, it will deposite on the evaheat deposited on the chill surface by the contact of porating surface, must likewise, from the same printhe ambient air is then counterbalanced by the two ciple of mutual balance, be eight times greater, and, distinct, though conjoined measures of heat, abstract- consequently, each hygrometric degree will indicate ed in the successive acts of converting the exterior an absorption of moisture equal in weight to the film of ice into water, and this water into steam; 750th part of the solvent. The energy of hydrogen which transformations that minute portion must un- gas is therefore scarcely less remarkable in dissolvdergo, before it can unite with its gaseous solvent. ing moisture than in containing heat. Confined with But the heat required for the melting of ice being a powerful absorbent substance, while common air about the seventh part of what is consumed in the marks 80 degrees of dryness, hydrogen gas will indivaporization of water, it follows that the hygrome- cate 70. This gas must, in similar circumstances, ter, when the surface of its sentient ball has become therefore, hold in solution seven times as much moisfrozen, will, in like circumstances, sink more than ture as the atmospheric medium. To discover the precise law by which equal addi-Law of'Atbefore by one degree in seven. This inference is mos leric P? entirely confirmed by observation. Suppose, in tions of heat augment the dryness of air or its power Solution * frosty weather, the hygrometer, placed on the out- to retain moisture, is a problem of great delicacy and side of the window, to stand at 28 degrees; it may importance. Two different modes were employed continue for some considerable time at that point, in that investigation, but which led to the same reuntil the congelation of its humidity commences : sults. The one was, in a large close room, to bring but after this change has been effected, and the an hygrometer, conjoined with a thermometer, sucequilibrium again restored, the instrument will now cessively near to a stove intensely heated, and to mark 32 degrees. note the simultaneous indications of both instruEstimate of The theory of this hygrometer will enable us to ments ; or to employ two nice thermometers, placed the Hygro- determine not only the relative, but even the abso- beside each other, and having their bulbs covered regrees.C 6* ^ryness °f the air, or the quantity of moisture spectively with dry and with wet cambric. By takwhich it can absorb, by comparing the capacity of ing the mean of numerous observations, and inter-

42 METEOROLOGY. Meteor- polating the intermediate quantities, the law of aque- below zero to 44- above it, or from -5° of Fahrenheit’s Meteorology. ous solution in air was laboriously traced. But the scale to 11, ol°g7' other method of investigation appeared better adapt- Quantities of Moisture dissolved in Atmospheric Ai r ed for the higher temperatures. A thin hollow ball at different Temperatures by the Centesimal Scale. of tin, four inches in diameter, and having a very small neck, was neatly covered with linen; and, being filled with water nearly boiling, and a thermometer inserted, it was hung likewise in a spacious close room, and the rate of its cooling carefully marked. The experiment was next repeated, by suspending it to the end of a fine beam, and wetting with a hair pencil the surface of the linen, till brought inexact equipoise to some given weight in the opposite scale ; ten grains being now taken out, the humid ball was allowed to rest against the point of a tapered glass tube, and the interval of time, with the corresponding diminution of temperature, observed, when it rose again to the position of equilibrium. The same operation was successively renewed; but, as the rapidity of the evaporation declined, five, and afterwards two, grains only were, at each trial, withdrawn from the scale. From such a series of facts, it was easy to estimate the quantities of moisture which the same air will dissolve at different temperatures, and also the corresponding measures of heat These temperatures, and the corresponding quantiexpended in the process of solution. By connecting the range of observations, it would ties of moisture dissolved, may be represented by the appear, that air has its dryness doubled at each rise abscissae and ordinates of the logarithmic curve, as of temperature, answering to 15 centesimal degrees. in fig. 8, Plate XCVII., where some of the princiThus, at the freezing point, air is capable of holding pal terms are marked. The influence of warmth in augmenting the drya portion of moisture represented by 100 degrees of the hygrometer ; at the temperature of 15 centigrade, ness of the air, or its disposition to absorb moisture, it could contain 200 such parts ; at that of 30, it affords also the most satisfactory explication of the might dissolve 4-00; and, at 45 on the same scale, singular fact already noticed. If two equal surfaces 800. Or, if we reckon by Fahrenheit’s divisions, air of water be exposed in the same situation, the one absolutely humid holds, at the limit of congelation, in a shallow, and the other in a deep vessel of metal the hundred and sixtieth part of its weight of mois- or porcelain; the latter is always found, after a certure ; at the temperature of 59 degrees, the eightieth tain interval of time, to have suffered contrary to part; at that of 86 degrees, the fortieth part; at what we might expect, more waste by evaporation that of 113 degrees, the twentieth part; and at that than the former. Amidst all the changes that hapof 140 degrees, the tenth part. While the tempera- pen in the condition of the ambient medium, the ture, therefore, advances uniformly in arithmetical shallow pan must necessarily receive more completeprogression, the dissolving power which this com- ly than the deeper vessel, the chilling impressions municates to the air, mounts with the accelerating of evaporation, since it exposes a smaller extent of dry surface to be partly heated up again by the conrapidity of a geometrical series. TemperaIt hence follows, that, whatever be the actual cou- tact of the air. The larger mass being, therefore, ture of Sa- dition of a mass of air, there must always exist some kept invariably warmer than the other, must in conturation. temperature at which it would become perfectly sequence support a more copious exhalation. damp, as M. Leroi had first advanced. Nor is it From the principles which have been explained, it Correction difficult, from what has been already stated, to de- likewise results that the hygrometer does not indicate of the Hy* termine this dewing point in any given case. Thus, the actual dryness of the air, but only the dryness which Srometer‘ suppose the hygrometer to mark 52, while its wet it retains, after being reduced to the temperature of ball has a temperature of 20 centesimal degrees or the humid ball. The real condition of the medium, 68 by Fahrenheit; the dissolving power of air at however, could easily be determined, from the grathis temperature being 252, its distance from ab- dations already ascertained in the power of solution. solute humidity will therefore be 200, which is the Suppose, for example, that the hygrometer should measure of solution answering to 15 centesimal de- mark 42 degrees, while the thermometer stands at grees or 59 by Fahrenheit. The same air would 16 centigrade; the moist surface has therefore the consequently, at the depressed temperature of 59 temperature of 11.8 centigrade, at which the disdegrees, shrink into a state of absolute saturation; solving energy is less by 37 degrees than at 16 cenand if cooled lower, it would even deposite a por- tigrade ; and hence the total dryness of the air, at its tion of its combined moisture, losing the eightieth former temperature, amounted to 79 degrees. The part of its weight at the verge of freezing. following table will greatly facilitate such reductions. Annexed is a small table of the solvent power of It is computed for as wide a range of dryness and air, from the temperature of 15 centesimal degrees temperature as will probably occur in any climate. 11

METEOROLOGY Meteor. ology.

S4S Meteor-

344 Meteorology.

METEOROLOGY 20°

21°

22°

23°

Hyg.

Dryness. Point Sat.

Dryness. Point Sat

Dryness. Point Sat.

Dryness, Point Sat.

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100

21 42 63 83 102 121 140 158 176 193

22 44 66 87 107 127 146 165 184 202

23 46 68 89 110 130 150 169 188 207

18.1 16.0 13.8 11.4 8.8 6-1 2.5 -1.3 -5-9 -11.5

22 43 64 84 104 124 143 162 180 198

25° 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 no 120

23.3 21.4 19.5 17.4 15.2 12.8 10.1 7-2 3.9 0.0 -4.5 -10.2

24 48 71 94 116 137 158 178 198 218 237 255

26° 25 49 73 96 119 141 162 183 203 223 242 261

28 55 82 108 133 157 181 204 226 248 269 290

28.4 26.8 25.0 23.2 21.3 19.3 17.0 14.6 12.0 9.1 5.8 2.0

33 65 95 125 154 182 209 236 262 287 311 335 358 380

29.5 27.8 26.1 24.4 22.5 20.5 18.3 16.0 13.5 10.7 76 4.1

29 57 84 111 136 161 186 209 233 255 277 298

35° 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 no 120 ISO 140

24.3 22.5 20.6 18.6 16.5 14.1 11.6 8.7 5.6 2.0 -2.3 -7.4

26 51 75 99 122 144 166 188 209 229 249 268

34 67 98 129 159 188 216 243 270 295 320 345 368 391

25.3 23.6 21.7 19.8 17-7 15.4 13.0 10.3 7.2 3.8 -0.1 -4.8

30 59 87 114 141 166 191 216 239 262 285 307

35 69 102 133 164 194 223 251 278 305 330 355 380 403

26.4 24.7 22.8 21.0 18.9 16.7 14.3 11.7 8.9 5.6 2.0 -2.4

26 52 77 102 125 148 171 193 214 235 255 275

24 47 69 91 112 133 154 174 193 212

30.5 28.9 27.2 25.5 23.7 21.7 19.6 17.4 15.0 12.3 9.3 6.0

31 61 90 118 145 171 197 222 246 270 293 316

35.6 34.1 32.6 31.0 29.4 27.7 25.8 23.9 21.9 19.7 17-3 14.7 11.9 8.7

22.2 20.4 18.4 16.2 13.9 11.5 8.7 5.6 2.0 -2.0

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100

27-4 25.7 23.9 22.1 20.1 18.1 15.7 13.2 10.4 7.4 3.9 -0.1

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 no 120

32.5 31.0 29.4 27.7 26.0 24.1 22.1 20.0 17.8 15.3 12.6 9.7

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 no 120

37.6 36.2 34.7 33-2 31-6 30-0 28.2 26-4 24-5 22.4 20-2 17-9 15.3 12.4

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 no 120 130 140

27 54 79 104 129 152 175 198 220 241 262 282 34(

31.5 30.0 28.3 26.6 24.9 22.9 20.9 18.7 16.4 13.8 11.0 7.9

32 63 92 121 149 177 203 229 254 278 302 325 39c

38° 36 71 105 138 169 200 230 259 287 314 341 366 391 416

Hyg.

29°

33°

37° 34.6 33.1 31.5 30.0 28.2 26.5 24.6 22.6 20.5 18.3 15.8 13.1 10.1 6.7

21.2 19-3 17.3 15.0 12.7 10.2 7-2 4.0 0.2 -4.3

Dryness. Point Sat.

28°

32°

36° 33.6 32.0 30.5 28.9 27-1 25.3 23.4 21.3 19.2 16.8 14.2 11.4 8.3 4.7

20.1 18.2 16.1 13.8 11.4 8.7 5.7 2.3 -1.8 -6.5 27‘

31°

30° 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 no 120

19-1 17.1 15.0 12.6 10.1 7-4 4.1 0.5 -3.8 -9.0

Meteorology.

24°

36.6 37 35.2 73 33.7 108 32.1 142 30.5 175 28.8 207 27-0 238 25.2 267 23.2 296 21.1 324 18.8 352 16.3 378 13.6 404 10.6 429

METEOROLOGY. Meteorology. H

yg-

10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 100 110 120 130 140 150 160

400

41°

420

Dryness, Point Sat,

Dryness, Point Sat.

Dryness Point Sat.

39 76 112 147 181 214 246 276 306 335 363 390 417 443 468 492

40 79 116 152 187 221 254 286 316 346 375 403 430 457 483 508

38.6 37-2 35.8 34.3 32.7 31.1 29.4 27-6 25.8 23.7 21.6 19.4 16.9 14.2 11.2 7.8

39.7 38.3 36.9 35.4 33.8 32.3 30.6 28.9 27.1 25.1 23.0 20.8 18.5 15.9 13.0 9.8

41 81 120 158 194 229 262 295 327 358 388 416 444 472 498 524

ma Moisture ^ nc y comPute t^at a cubic mass of air 40 held in the ^ 6es every way, or a little more than the standard Air. of French measures, and of the ordinary density, weighs 20,000 grains. The table now given exhibits, therefore, in grains, the weight of moisture which a metrical cube of air is capable of holding at different temperatures. Thus, at 20°, which corresponds to 68° of Fahrenheit, this body of air could retain 252 grains of humidity. But if a larger scale be preferred, the same numbers will express, in pounds Troy, the quantity of water required to saturate a perfectly dry mass of air constituting a cube of twenty yards in every dimension. It is remarkable how small a portion of the aqueous element is at any time suspended in the atmosphere. Reckoning the mean temperature over the surface of the globe to be 19 centesimal degrees, the air could only hold 240.6 parts of humidity for 20,000 times its whole weight; but this weight is nearly the same as that of a column of water of 400 inches in altitude; and hence, if the atmosphere, from a state of absolute dampness, were to pass into that of extreme dryness, and discharge the whole of its watery store, it would form a sheet of 4.812 inches, or somewhat less than 5 inches in depth. To furnish a sufficient supply of rain, the air must therefore undergo very frequent changes from dryness to humidity in the course of the year. Determined But it was requisite to subject theory to the test

memXperi" or accurate experiment. For this purpose, globe glass balloon was procured, of very large adimensions, containing nearly 4000 cubic inches, terminated by a neck of about three inches wide, having its mouth ground flat. The balloon was supported from the floor by a light circular stand or rim, and a round piece of plate glass perforated through the centre by a hole of about the twentieth part of an inch in diameter, through which passed a slender silver wire suspended from the end of a fine beam placed on the table. This wire was fastened to the top of the scale of a delicate hygrometer, from the lower part of which hung a bit of wet paper nearly three inches in diameter. The whole was balanced

40.7 39.3 37.9 36.5 34.9 33.4 31.8 30.1 28.4 26.4 24.4 22.2 20.0 17.5 14.8 11.8

431 Dryness 43 84 124 163 201 237 272 305 338 370 401 430 459 487 515 541

345 Meteorology.

44° Point Sat.

41.7 40.3 39.0 37-6 36.0 34.5 32.9 31.3 29.6 27.7 25.8 23.7 21.5 19.1 16.5 13.7

Dryness 44 87 129 169 208 245 281 316 350 383 414 445 475 504 532 559

Point Sat. 42.7 41.3 40.0 38.7 37.1 35.6 34.1 32.4 30.7 29.0 27.1 25.1 23.0 20.7 18.2 15.5

Hyg. 10 20 30 40 50 60 70 80 90 lOO 110 120 130 140 150 160

by a counterpoise in the opposite scale, so that the instrument occupied the middle of the balloon. As the moisture gradually evaporated from the wet ball of the hygrometer, and still more from the larger surface of the paper attached below it, a loss of weight became visible, while the ascent of the coloured liquid in its tube indicated the corresponding diminution of the dryness of the included air. The progress of humefaction was observed from 50 to 10 degrees of the hygrometer, after each successive grain of water, amounting in all to five, had exhaled and dispersed itself through the medium. Having rectified the hygrometric degrees according to the principle already explained, it was easy to compare them with the weight of the whole mass of air contained within the balloon. The conclusions were, perhaps, as satisfactory as such a nice and fugacious inquiry will admit; and if they be not absolutely correct, they must, at least, approximate very nearly to the truth. It would be superfluous, however, to engage in the details of the experiment, and of the calculations drawn from them ; especially as it is intended to repeat the operation under more favourable circumstances, and with every precaution for assisting the equable dispersion of the moisture through the encircling medium. The table given above is in strictness applicable Modification to air only of the ordinary density. Since this fluidoftlle Table‘ has its capacity for heat enlarged by rarefaction, the same depression of temperature must intimate a proportional augmentation of dryness. Thus, for air at the elevation of three miles and a half, and consequently twice as rare as at the surface, it would be requisite to add the sixteenth part to the numbers in the first column. For the lower altitudes, the correction will be, to multiply those numbers by triple the height in feet, and cut off six decimal places. Thus, suppose, while the thermometer stood at 28 centesimal degrees, that the hygrometer marked 110° on the plains of Mexico, at the elevation of 8000 feet above the level of the sea ; then 3 x 8000 X 255=6120000, which, being divided by a million, gives 6 to be added to 255, increasing the actual

METEOROLOGY. 346 Meteor, dryness to 261 In most cases, therefore, this modi- the aerial medium ; the vapour successively formed Meteorbeing again condensed on the vitreous surface. But ol°gy* fication may be neglected. But, in estimating the distance of the point of sa- if, instead of the receiver, there be substituted a turation in rarefied air, a greater correction will be vessel formed of polished metal, the confined air will required. The solvent power of that medium is ex- pass through every possible degree of humidity, and tended about 50 hygrometric degrees, each time it the hygrometer will, after some interval, arrive at has its rarefaction doubled. Hence, it may be calcu- the beginning of its scale. The contrasted properties of a vitreous and a melated, that our atmosphere would at the same temperature become a degree drier for every 360 feet of tallic surface, in attracting and repelling moisture, be shown still more easily. In clear, calm ascent. Thus, on the preceding supposition, the air may r on the plain of Mexico would have its distance from w eather, let a drinking glass and a silver cup be the point of saturation enlarged 22^ degrees, its placed empty near the ground, on the approach of evening; and as the dampness begins to prevail, the whole range being thus 283| degrees. DifFerent if the papered ball of an hygrometer be suffered glass will become insensibly obscured, and next wetted with profuse dew, before the metal has yet of^he'n101131° become dry, the instrument, even in that state, betrayed any traces of humidity. The effect is, ingrometeZ* will mark, though for a short time only, the different condition of the media into which it is transported. deed, augmented by the cold pulses darted from the Thus, the air of a room being supposed to have 50 sky, which act more powerfully on the glass than on degrees of dryness, on carrying the quiescent hygro- the metal. The hygrometer is an instrument of the greatest its Practical meter into another apartment of 70 degrees, the column of liquor will fall near 20 degrees, from the utility, not only in meteorological observations, but Utility, renewed evaporation of that portion of moisture in aiding domestic economy, in regulating many prowhich had still adhered to the coats of paper. But cesses of art, and in directing the purchase and seif the same instrument were carried into an apart- lection of various articles of produce. It will dement of only 30 degrees of dryness, the coloured li- tect, for instance, the dampness of an apartment, quor would actually rise near 20 degrees above the and discover the condition of a magazine, of an hosbeginning of the scale, the paper now attracting the pital, or of a sick-ward. Most warehouses require excess of humidity from the air. This vapour, in to be kept at a certain point of dryness, which is combining with it, passes into the state of water, and higher or lower according to the purposes for which therefore evolves a corresponding share of heat. I he they are designed. The printing of linen and cotton equilibrium, however, unless the coats of paper have is carried on in very dry rooms; but the operations a considerable thickness, is again restored in a very of spinning and weaving succeed best in air which rather inclines to dampness. The manufacturer is few minutes. Those changes are most readily perceived, on at present entirely guided by observing the effects immersing the quiescent hygrometer alternately in produced by stoves, and hence the goods are often two receivers containing air drier and damper than shrivelled or otherwise injured before be can disthat of the room. If a pyroscope, having both its cern any alteration in the state of the medium. balls covered with goldbeater’s skin, be treated in Wool and corn have their weight augmented sometimes the same way, it will indicate an effect, though mo- as much as 10 or even 15 per cent, by the presence mentary indeed, of a similar kind : For, in air of moisture. But the condition of these commodiwhich is drier, the pellicle of the naked ball will ties could be nicely and readily examined, by heapthrow off its moisture more freely than that of the ing them over a small wired cage, within which an gilt ball; and in damper air it will, on the contrary, hygrometer is placed. V. The Atmometer. *—This instrument is an Atmometer. imbibe the surplus humidity with greater eagerness; thus losing some portion of heat in the one process, useful auxiliary, and might with some attention serve and gaining a minute accession in the other. The as a substitute, of the Hygrometer. It does not mark quantity of moisture concerned in producing such the mere dryness of the air, but it measures the quanfleeting alterations may not exceed the thousandth tity of moisture exhaled from a humid surface in a given time. The atmometer consists of a thin ball of part of a grain. If a large receiver, having a delicate hygrometer porous earthen-ware, two or three inches in diameter, suspended within it, be placed on a brass plate and with a small neck, to which is firmly cemented a long over a metal cup containing some water ; thednclud- and rather wide glass tube, bearing divisions, each ed air will, from the solution of the moisture, become of them corresponding to an internal annular section, gradually damper, and this progressive change is equal to a film of liquid that would cover the outer marked by the instrument. Yet the mass of air will surface of the ball to the thickness of the thousandth never reach its term of absolute humidity, and be- part of an inch. (Fig. 8, Plate XCVII.) The divifore the hygrometer points at five degrees, the inside sions are marked by portions of quicksilver introduof the receiver appears covered with dew. While ced, ascertained by a simple calculation, and they the humifying process, therefore, still goes on, the are numbered downwai’ds to the extent of 100 to close attraction of the glass continually robs the con- 200; to the top of the tube is fitted a brass cap, havtiguous air of a portion of its moisture ; so that, a ing a collar of leather, and which, after the cavity kind of perpetual distillation is maintained through has been filled with distilled water, is screwed tight. * From Ar^ao?, exhalation, or vapour, and

a measure.

METEOROLOGY. 347 Meteor- The outside of the ball being now wiped dry, the from rain, which, by wetting the ball, would derange Meteortjogy ‘ instrument is suspended out of doors, exposed to the proper action of the instrument. This could eas- ology. ^ the free access of the air. In this state of action, ly be done, by fixing a small canopy over it; or, in the humidity transudes through the porous substance the case of drifting showers, to have a sort of shelved just as fast as it evaporates from the external sur- open screen, like Venetian blinds, turned by the wind. face ; and this waste is measured by the correspond- The only objection to this atmometer is, that it caning descent of the water in the stem. not be used during intense frost, since the expansion Quantity of If the atmometer had its ball perfectly screened of the included water, by a sudden congelation, 6 on exhaled ^r0m t^le ag*tat wind, its indications be might burst the ball and even the tube. But the ex ae ' proportional to ^ the °f dryness of the air at thewould lowered instrument could still be made to act in another temperature of the humid surface; and the quantity way: Let it be emptied, and a certain portion of of evaporation every hour, as expressed in thousand the water, measured in the stem, be spread over the parts of an inch, would, when multiplied by 20, give outside of the ball, by successive layers, to form a the hygrometric measure. For example, in this cli- coat of ice. The time is to be noted when the whole mate, the mean dryness in winter being reckoned of this crust has disappeared, or, if any portion should 15°, and in summer 40°, the daily exhalation from remain, it may be deducted from the whole, and thus a sheltered spot must in winter form a thickness of the hourly quantity of evaporation ascertained. .018, and amount in summer to .048 decimal parts VI. Photometer.*—This instrument, which wasConstrucof an inch. Suppose a pool for the supply of a na- contrived to indicate the power of illumination, by hon of the vigable canal exposed a surface equal to ten English the slight elevation of temperature which it occasions, Photometei-.acres, and that the atmometer sank 80 parts during has been shortly noticed in the article Climate of the lapse of 24 hours; the quantity of water exhaled this Supplement. It consists of a differential thermometer, having one of its balls diaphanous, and in that time would be 80 X 660x66x10, or the other coated with China ink, or rather blown of deep black enamel. (See fig. 17 and 18, Plate 2904 cubic feet, which corresponds to the weight of XCVI.) The rays which fall on the clear ball pass Sil tons. through it, without suffering obstruction ; but those Velocity of The dissipation of moisture is much accelerated which strike the dark ball are stopt and absorbed Wind. by the agency of sweeping winds, the effect being at its surface, where, assuming a latent form, they sometimes augmented 5 or even 10 times. In ge- act as heat. This heat will continue to accumulate, neral, this augmentation is proportional, as in the till its farther increase comes to be counterbalanced case of cooling, to the swiftness of the wind, the by an opposite dispersion, caused by the rise of temaction of still air itself being reckoned equal to that perature which the ball has come to acquire. At the produced by a celerity of 8 miles each hour. Hence point of equilibrium, therefore, the constant accesthe velocity of wind is easily computed, from a com- sions of heat derived from the action of the incident parison of the indications of a hygrometer with an light, are exactly equalled by the corresponding poratmometer, or of a sheltered, with those of an ex- tions of it again abstracted in the subsequent proposed, atmometer. Thus, suppose the hygrometer cess of cooling. But, in still air, the rate of cooling to mark 40 degrees, or the column of water in a is, within moderate limits, proportioned to the exsheltered atmometer to subside at the rate of 2 di- cess of the temperature of the heated surface above visions every hour, while in one exposed to the cur- that of the surrounding medium. Hence the space Theory of rent, the descent is 12 divisions; then as 2 is to 10, through which the coloured liquid sinks in the stem, its Operathe superadded effect of the wind, so is 8 to 40 miles, will measure the momentary impressions of light ortion' the distance through which it has travelled in that its actual intensity. To prevent any extraneous agitime. tation of the air from accelerating the discharge of Utility of the The atmometer is an instrument evidently of ex- heat from the black ball, and thereby diminishing Atmometer. tensive application and of great utility in practice. the quantity of aggregate effect, the instrument To ascertain with accuracy and readiness the quan- is always sheltered, and more especially out of tity of evaporation from any surface in a given time, doors, by a thin glass case. The addition of this is an important acquisition, not only in meteorology, translucid case is quite indispensable. It not only but in agriculture, and the various arts and manu- precludes all irregular action, but maintains, around factures. The rate of exhalation from the surface the sentient part of the instrument, an atmosphere of the ground is scarcely of less consequence than of perpetual calm. Under the same force of incithe fall of rain, and a knowledge of it might often dent light, the temperature of the black ball must direct the farmer advantageously in his operations. still rise to the same height above that of its encirOn the rapid dispersion of moisture depends the ef- cling medium. The case will evidently have some ficacy of drying-houses, which are too frequently influence to confine the heat actually received, and constructed most unskilfully, or on very mistaken hence to warm up the internal air. Wherefore, corprinciples. responding to this excess, the black ball will acquire It is obvious, that though the atmometer should a farther elevation of temperature; but the clear be exposed to the free air, it must be sheltered ball, being immersed in the same fluid, must expe-

VOL. V. PART II.

* From

light, and

a measure. yy

METEOROLOGY. 348 Meteor- rlence a similar effect, which will exactly counter- variously attenuated or condensed. Hence we learn, Meteerol ol °gy* °ey- balance the former. The difference of tempera* that air expanded 256 times conducts heat nearly twice as slow, or in the ratio of 7 to 13 ; but that ture between the opposite balls thus continues unaltered ; and neither has the size or the shape of the hydrogen gas transfers it with more than redoubled case, nor the variable state of the exterior atmo- celerity, or in the ratio of 9 to 4. But the photomesphere with respect to rest or agitation, any sen- ter will measure also the conducting powers of difsible influence to derange or modify the results ex- ferent liquids. It is only wanted to remove the case* and plunge the instrument erect in a wide metallic hibited by this delicate instrument. The photometer has, like the hygrometer, two ge- vessel, bright on the outside, but blackened within, neral forms: The stationary, represented by fig. 15, containing the liquid to be examined, and exposed and the portable, delineated in fig. IS. But they to the sun’s rays. In this way, it was found that waare both of them easily transported from one place ter which conveys heat about 30 times faster than to another. Their glass cases can be screwed off, air of the mean temperature of our climate, transand the former instrument, being cemented into a fuses it with still greater rapidity if warmed to a small slip of brass, which slides with a spring into the higher pitch. If the photometer, inclosed within its bottom, may be packed separately, if required, while case, be immersed under the surface of water, the imthe latter is protected by an external wooden case, in pression of the light will be much stronger than when which it is carried in the pocket as safely as a pencil. the balls were encircled by the actual contact of this This case, if screwed below, serves also as a handle to liquid. Yet will the effect be less than if the case hold the photometer in a vertical position out of doors. had been surrounded externally by a body of air inIts Use. The photometer, placed in open air, exhibits stead of water, which, by its powerful action in drawdistinctly the progress of illumination from the morn- ing off the accumulated heat, hastens the transmising’s dawn to the full vigour of noon, and thence its sion of it through the internal medium, and reduces gradual decline till evening has spread her mantle; the elevation of the temperature of the black ball to it marks the growth of light from the winter solstice nearly one-third part. to the height of summer, and its subsequent decay From observations made with this instrument, we through the dusky shades of autumn ; and it enables likewise discover that, in the clearest and most serene us to compare, with numerical accuracy, the bright- sky, one-half only of the sun’s light, sloping at an ness of different countries,—the brilliant sky of Italy angle of 25°, will reach the ground; and that at an for instance, with the murky atmosphere of Hol- angle of 15°, the proportion is reduced to one-third; land. but with an obliquity of 5°, the length of track being In this climate, the direct impression of the sun then extended ten times, one-twentieth part only of about midsummer amounts to about 90 degrees; but the whole incident light can reach the surface. it regularly declines as his rays become more oblique. When the sun has approached within a degree of The greatest force of the solar beams with us in the the horizon, and his rays now traverse a track of air depth of winter reaches only to 25 degrees. At the equal in weight to a column of about 905 feet of altitude of 17 degrees, it is already reduced to one water, no more than the 212th part of them can pehalf; and at 3 degrees above the horizon, the whole netrate to the ground. effect exceeds not one millesimal degree. The photometer discovers the relative density of Light of the The quantity of indirect light reflected from the different artificial lights, and even contrasts their force Sun. sky, though extremely fluctuating in our climate, is of illumination with that of the solar rays. It may often very considerable. It may be estimated at 30 be mentioned as a curious inference, that the light or 40 degrees in summer, and 10 or 15 in winter. emitted from the sun is 12,000 times more powerful This secondary light is most powerful, when the sky than the flame of a wax-candle ; or that, if a portion is overspread with thin fleecy clouds ; it is feeblest, of the lumtinous solar matter, rather less than an either when the rays are obstructed by a mass of inch in diameter, were transported to our planet, it congregated vapours, or when the atmosphere is would throw forth a blaze of light equal to the effect clear and of a deep azure tint. On the lofty sum- of 12,000 candles. mits of the Alps or Andes, the photometer, screened To compare the illumination of candles or lamps, Light of the from the sun, and only exposed to the dark hue of and of the flame of coal or oil gas, the best form of Sty* the broad expanse, would indicate a very small effect. the photometer, is that of fig. 15, Plate XCVI. During the late solar eclipse of the 7th of Septem- guarded both in front and behind by a pair of thin ber 1820, the sky being completely overclouded, it spreading plates of mica, set parallel at the mutual showed, both before and after the passage of the interval of about half an inch. It may be sufficient moon’s disc, only 12 degrees of light; but when the to notice at present, that the flame of coal gas has obscuration was the greatest, it marked not more more than triple the brilliancy of that of a waxthan a single degree. candle ; but a series of experiments on this subject Various Ap- The delicacy of this instrument renders it a valu- will be soon given to the public. plications of able auxiliary in various scientific inquiries. It asA photometer of the branched form is easily adaptthe Photo- certains the diminution which the rays of light suffer ed to measure the diminution which light suffers in meter. jn reflection, and during their passage through difpenetrating through a body of water. The scale may ferent transparent substances. By combining it with then be shortened, and the balls enlarged. A botthe transferrer of an air-pump, it likewise detects the tom of lead is turned to receive the instrument, with comparative powers for conducting heat of the seve- its case, which are cemented to it. Thus loaded, ral gases, whether in their ordinary state, or when the photometer is suspended vertically by cross silk-

METEOROLOGY. 349 Meteor- threads, to which a cord of some definite length is windy weather whichhas prevailedfor almosttwo years. MeteorolQ £y- attached, terminating by a small bladder. The sky The chief object then was to render the aethrioscope being clear, and the sun shining bright, the instru- more portable, in the hope of obtaining, through it, ment is, by help of a long pole, stretched from the some correct information regarding the state of the side of a boat, held a few minutes suspended about atmosphere in other quarters of the globe. The upper four inches below the surface of the water, and then ball is now scarcely half an inch in diameter ; but to drawn up, and the number of degrees marked. When compensate for this diminution, the lower ball has a the direct action of the solar rays amounted to 90 pho- diameter of about four-fifths of an inch. The tube, tometric degrees, their enfeebled influence on the in- which exceeds not four inches in length, has its bore strument, while thus encompassed externally by a contracted a little above its junction to the very dense chilling body of water, was commonly found short cylindrical cavity that holds the coloured lito be reduced to 32 degrees. From this point, there- quor ; this simple contrivance, augmenting greatly fore, the subsequent diminution, occasioned by the the capillary action, prevents the descent of the descent of the instrument, was computed. The pho- column into the ball from any sudden change of tometer, being let down, was left to float near a quar- temperature, while it only retards the motion of the ter of an hour at the depth of perhaps three or six fluid, without affecting the accuracy of its play. fathoms. On drawing it up, the diminished action Fig. 10, Plate XCVII. represents the instrument in of the light, occasioned by the length of oblique pas- this abridged form, and fig. 11 shows the way of packing it, the bottom being merely screwed to the sage, was at once perceived. From experiments performed in this way last sum- top of the case. The only precaution needed, is not mer, it follows that half of the incident light which to shake the aethrioscope or invert it; and as it might pass through a field of air of the ordinary densi- takes very little room, it may easily be carried by ty and 15| miles of extent, would penetrate only to the traveller in his pocket. We may soon expect the perpendicular depth of 15 feet in the clearest sea- information, at once curious and interesting, from water, which is, therefore, 5400 times less diaphanous remote climates. In ordinary cases, the hot or cold pulses propa- Theory of than the atmospheric medium. The light is hence this diminished four times for every five fathoms of ver- gated through the air only assist the energy of the1 111Tnstrutransfer of the different portions of the fluid, in pro™ * tical descent; and, consequently, the 64th part only could reach to the depth of 15 fathoms. Supposing moting an equilibrium of temperature. But the the bottom then to consist of a clear white sand, the aethrioscope proves that those pulses are incessantly portion of light reflected, and sent back to the sur- forwarding such a balance, even while the mere transface, would be attenuated more than 6'4 X 64 or 4096 fer and commixture of the medium would not contritimes, and would therefore hardly be perceptible to bute to the effect. In the article Climate, it was the most acute eye. But the water of shallow lakes, shown that the rapid interchange which takes place though not apparently turbid, betrays a still greater between the higher and lower strata of the atmoopacity, insomuch that the perpendicular light was sphere, maintains an equal distribution in the quandiminished one-half, in descending only through the tity, and not in the intensity, of heat. Since air has space of six feet in Loch Leven, or even two feet in its capacity for heat increased by rarefaction, it must, a fine artificial sheet of water at Raith, near Kirkaldy. with the same igneous infusion, indicate a proportionalThese results, however, are to be considered as mere ly depressed temperature. But this inequality of temapproximations, the state of the weather having been perature, resulting from the internal commotion produced by the sun's rays acting more powerfully near very unfavourable for such experiments. It would be easy, by a small modification, to the surface of the earth, is partly corrected by the adapt the photometer as a diaphanometer, for mea- influence of the cold or hot pulses, which are at all suring the comparative transparency of different col- times darted and in every direction, unless obstructed lections of water. The black and the clear ball or absorbed by the interposition of the clouds. While might be blown larger than usual, and the instru- the cold pulses from the upper strata of the atmoment covered with two thin parallel cases of glass, sphere are constantly chilling the lower strata, the separated by an interval of about three-eighths of warm pulses again from below are exerted in warman inch. The transparency of a lake, or of the sea, ing the higher regions. In most cases this mutual would be inversely as the length of passage traversed influence, indeed, is comparatively feeble ; but if the by the light, when it had suffered a proportional di- rays of the sun were withdrawn for any considerable time, a great progress would be made by such a minution of intensity. Construction VII. ^Ethrioscope.*—Such is the name of another mutual interchange of the pulsations towards an equaofthe^Eth- very delicate modification of the differential thermo- lity of temperature through the mass of atmosphere. rioscope. meter, intended to measure those frigorific impressions The lowest strata would become unusually colder, which are showered incessantly from the distant sky. while the highest regions would grow warmer, and The history of this invention, and of its progressive im- sparkle with augmented clearness and lustre. Such provement, has been given already in this Supplement are some of the effects of the long protracted nights (Art. Climate). Since that time, few good observa- within the Arctic Circle. Much yet remains to be explored in the higher Its Inverted tions have been added, owing to the very cloudy and

* From Aifytof, which signifies at once clear, dry, and cold.

350 METEOROLOGY. Meteor- strata of our atmosphere. If the differential thermo- 13 to 24, and again to 16, while the colour of the Meteor0 meter, included within the aethrioscope, had its posi- ocean fluctuated between 34 and 44. l°gy. tion reversed, that instrument would become adapt1 he misfortune is, that we cannot annex any very ed to measure the hot pulses, which are, no doubt, distinct ideas to these numbers. We are not informshot incessantly upwards with various obliquity from ed even of the proportions of the ingredients of the the warmer beds incumbent over the surface of the series of colours. The manner of composition likeearth. It would be most interesting to obtain the wise will modify the colorific effect; and most of the reports of both the erect and the pendant oppo- pigments, and especially the Prussian blue, not only site aethrioscope, when carried up in the car of a want uniformity of tone, but are subject to great alballoon to the elevation of four miles. In that re- teration. It would be quite impossible to paint with gion of mid-air, we might expect the hot and the any water colours two cyanometers that should concold pulses, as they crossed in opposite directions, tinue to agree, after being exposed for some time to to act with nearly equal energy. The measures of the action of the air and the sun. those effects, compared with the simultaneous indiIf an accurate method could be devised to discri- Composition cations of the photometer, could not fail to dispel minate colours, and mark their different tints with a of Colours, much obscurity, and to open new views of the dis- sort of numerical precision, it would prove a valuposition of the elements, and of the economy of na- able acquisition to philosophy and the arts. This ture. Construction VIII. Cyanometer. *—-This instrument was con- was first attempted by the famous painter Leonardo da Vinci. Zahn proposed, in 1702, to accomplish anometer." fnved.by M* de Saussure, to measure the variable it, by the graduating mixture of primary colours disintensity of the cserulean hue, which the sky assumes persed over the surface of a triangle; but he recin different climates and elevations, according to the koned five of those colours, including black and white, progress of the day or the advance of the season. It with red, yellow, and blue. The celebrated Profesconsists of 53 slips of paper of about a quarter of an sor Mayer of Gottingen, after various trials, simpliinch broad, stained with the successive shades of fied the procedure in a posthumous work, published blue, from the palest sapphire to the deepest azure, by Lichtenberg in 1775. Having distinguished each which are. pasted around the circumference of a side of an equilateral triangle into 13 equal parts, he circle of pasteboard of about four inches in diame- subdivided the whole space into 91 small triangles, ter. The colours were obtained from fine Prussian which he painted with the successive mixtures of blue, diluting it with white chalk, or darkening it vermillion, ultra-marine, and bright orpiment. Lamwith a mixture of ivory black. He likewise com- bert assumed three colours, carmine, Prussian blue, pared those coloured spaces with the pure tints of a and gamboge, to cover a triangular base, upon which solution of copper in ammonia, which resemble most he erected a coloured pyramid, having white planted the soft transparent hues of the atmosphere. To re- at its apex. But Dr Thomas Young, whose authopresent the effect of clouds, and diffuse aqueous va- rity in those matters has deservedly great weight, pours, he dropped into that liquid a portion of very prefers the simple triangle, and adopts red, green, and fine divided argillaceous earth, precipitated by am- violet, for the primary colours. Their binary commonia from a solution of alum. binations are yellow, formed by mixing red with In observing with the cyanometer, it should be green ; crimson, consisting of red and violet; and held out of doors, between the eye and the part of blue, produced by blending green with violet. The the heavens which is to be compared, and, with a little practice, the corresponding tint is easily distin- difficulty, however, is to regulate the intensity of the compounds; nor can the powders be safely mixed guished. except in a dry state, lest some chemical action In this way, Saussure found, that the deepest blu should be introduced which might alter their tints. of the zenith on the summit of Mont Blanc, at hi But the colours thus combined must evidently want station on the Col du Geant, at Chamouni, and at Ge the freshness and brilliancy of those which nature neva, corresponded respectively to the shades, denote* paints, or which the prism reveals. 39, 37, 34, and 26£. From morning till noon, the co Air, like water, is no doubt, by its constitution, a lour of the vertical sky darkened, but became lighte coloured fluid. The former is naturally blue, as the again as the evening advanced; and this transitioi latter is green; but these colours acquire intensity was wider and more rapid in great elevations. Oi only from the depth of the transparent mass. A the Col du Geant, the tint of the horizontal air a small body of limpid water has the appearance of sunrise was 5, it deepened to 11| at noon, but agair crystal, but in proportion as it accumulates, it asrelapsed to 5 towards night. On the 15th of July which was a very clear day, the atmosphere at the sumes all the successive shades till it rivals the tints of the emerald and the beryl. This gradation is dishorizon had the 11th shade; at the altitude of 10°. tinctly seen in the profound lakes of Switzerland, 6 5 at that of 20 the 31st at tha 0 S t of SO the 34th ; at that of 40°, °>the 37th; ; and thence with' whose lustre is never stained by any vegetable inany sensible variation to the zenith. Baron Hum- fusion. The same series of colours emerges, on reboJdt, m his voyage from Corunna to Cumana, found ceding from our shores and approaching the vast the tints of the sky to vary by the cyanometer, from abyss of the Atlantic Ocean. At first, the water on the shelving banks is merely translucid; at the depth

Fiom K'junog, ccerxdean or sky-blue, and

a measure.

METEOROLOGY. 351 f t6n fathoms il a ears we have had occasion to observe the same at AvigMeteor° ’ more PP intense greenish, the tint, degrees, becomes till and it passes intobya non. It was no doubt occasioned by the reddish 0,°gyfull green, at the depth of fifty fathoms; but beyond rays of the declining sun dyeing the intense blue ofs,— soundings, it darkens almost into azure. the higher atmosphere. In like manner, the blue shade of the air becomes The easiest and readiest way of ascertaining the Another more intense in proportion to the length of the tract of tints of different portions of the sky, is perhaps to Form Pr°light. This we perceive in viewing distant objects, employ a sharp wedge of blue glass, of which theP05^’ whose colours are always tinted by the deepening hues base and the parallel sides are painted black and of the interjacent range of atmosphere. The remotest cased with thin brass, and the slanting sides are hills seem lost in a caerulean vesture. The mixture ground to true planes and highly polished. To of aqueous vapours only diffuses a mist, which tar- these angular surfaces two slides might be adapted, nishes rather than dilutes the fine blue. having each a broad slit, or intermediate opening, to It must be observed, that no substance can dis- permit the entrance and transmission of white light. close its inherent colour, but by a sort of internal Such rays having a greater length of passage to trasecretion or dissection of the rays of light. The mere verse, according to their distance from the top of reflexion from the surface of a solid body could never the wedge, must emerge with a proportional intensibetray its tints, for when rendered most perfect ty of blue. The scale would hence be determined by polish, it would only, like a mirror, send back by dividing the slides into ten or twenty equal parts, unchanged the incident beams. To detect the sub- which might probably be sufficient. jacent colour, it is necessary that the particles of To examine the orange and crimson tints which light should at least penetrate under the surface, and gild the east in the morning, or suffuse the western after suffering a sort of chemical separation, should sky on the approach of evening, it would be necesbe again emitted. In transparent substances, whe- sary to combine a series of the complementary or acthei solid or fluid, the penetration is greater, but cidental colours. A wedge of glass, stained of a the mode of evolving the native colours must be gold-red or deep orange, might answer the purpose; still the same. The atmosphere, besides dispersing or perhaps a nearer approximation would be obtaininternally the blue rays, likewise reflects in various ed by joining two reversed wedges, one of an angle proportions the white light unaltered. This fact is of 8 degrees, and crimson coloured, and another havestablished by some experiments of polarization, ing only 3 degrees, but of a yellow body. which show that such simple reflexions are the most These instruments might be reduced to a very copious from the portion of the sky which is 90 de- convenient size, not exceeding four inches in length ; grees fiom the sun, and regularly decline on either but they would require to be formed out of the same side to the opposite points, where they cease alto- mass of glass, and exactly after the same pattern. gether. With some skill in the execution, they could be . The white, or compound beam of light, suffering made to unite elegance and correctness. in its passage through the air, a continual defalcaIX. Anemometer.*—Various attempts have been Anemometion of the blue rays, must, as it advances, assume made to construct an instrument that should readilyter* the complementary colour, or the tints of the rethe force and velocity of the wind. One maining portions of the spectrum, and therefore indicate method was to employ a very small model of a windmerge successively into yellow, orange, red, and mill, and either to reckon its revolutions, or to esticrimson. Such, accordingly, are the graduating mate its power by the application of a weight to a colours of the solar rays, as they approach to their conical barrel or axis. But a more direct and accuextreme obliquity. Near sun-setting, the shadow of rate procedure consisted in measuring the impulse a pencil along a blank card appears a bright azure of wind against a vertical plane, as intimated by on a lilac ground. When a diffuse attenuated vapour reflects the incident light unaltered, the west- the contraction of a spiral spring. All these instruern sky, as the sun declines from his altitude, glows ments, however, act with such extreme irregularity, with the successive shades of yellow and orange, as scarcely ever to furnish any definite results. They are, besides, racked by incessant motion, and soon which deepen finally into a blush red. These co- put out of order. lours again may, under certain circumstances, come We may notice, however, a material improvement to be blended with the natural blue of the atmomade in this construction of the machine, by Mr sphere. Hence the explication of a curious phenoWaddel, of the Trinity-House, Leith, who, amidst menon, which rarely occurs in this climate,—the ex- other objects of useful experimental inquiry, has istence of green clouds. This happens in the morn- long directed his ingenuity to ascertain the force ings and evenings, when a thin cloud is illuminated and velocity of the wind. A circular plate, of four at once by the yellow rays of the sun and the bright azure of the upper sky, these contrasted colours pro- inches diameter, is opposed to the blast; but instead ducing a green by their mixture. For the same rea- of pushing against a spring, it presses a fine cylinson, sometimes a portion of the bright sky appears, in drical bag, of about an inch long, and the third part the finer climates, tinted with violet. This was re- of an inch diameter, filled with quicksilver, and marked by Humboldt in his voyage to America, and joined tight to a vertical tube of glass, a foot or 15 inches high; but having a bore only the 20th part

From Ai^s/aothe wind) and /ast^ov, a measure.

METEOROLOGY. 352 Meteor- of an inch wide. The compression of the bag caused hour. Since air will rush into a vacuum, at the rate Meteorology. by the impulse of the wind upon the plate, squeezes of 1350 feet in a second, it would, under a predomi- ology. the quicksilver up into the tube, carrying with it a nating pressure of the 100th part of an atmosphere, small steel mark, which slightly adheres to the sides or at 100 degrees, flow with a celerity ten times less, of the bore. The height of the mercurial column, or 135 feet in a second, which corresponds to Q2 diminished in the ratio of the surface of the plate to miles in an hour. Wherefore, 25 degrees of the the section of the bag, must evidently give the mea- scale of impulse would be marked by a velocity of sure of the force of the wind. But, in the actual ex- 46, and degrees by that of 23 miles an hour. The posure of this anemometer, the quicksilver oscillates subordinate divisions could hence be easily formed. Such are the velocities which theory would assign excessively, so that the extreme effects only are indicated. The instrument, however, is very sensible, to the different altitudes of the columns supported and may continue to act for a long period without by the force of the wind. But the actual resistance of fluids, owing chiefly to their detention at the obbeing impaired. Its Improv- The direct action of the wind in supporting a co- structing surface, generally exceeds the result of caled Construe-]umn 0f water appears to furnish the best and simplest culation. In the case of water and air, the ratio of kind of anemometer. This principle was first employ- excess appears from experiment to be nearly that of ed, in 1731, by Pitot, the French engineer, in his re- 8 to 5. We may therefore modify the velocities afcurved tube for estimating the force of the current of ter this proportion above stated. The relations of a river ; and, forty years afterwards, it was applied by celerity and impulse will stand thus : Dr Lind, to measure the impulse of a stream of air. Impulse in With some modifications to correct, or at least to di10,000th Parts Celerity in minish, the oscillations of the liquid, this instrument of the Weight Miles per is rendered quite manageable. The tube may conof the AtmoHour. sist of two pieces, each about a foot in height, havsphere. ing bores of the fiftieth and the fifth parts of an inch, the narrow piece being swelled out into a cylinder 1°.9 10 perhaps an inch wide, and two inches long, near the 7°.6 20 end where is joined hermetically to the other piece. 30 17°.1 The top of the narrow tube is bent horizontally, and 30°.4 40 cemented into the centre of a vertical circle of plate 47°.5 50 glass, of about three inches in diameter ; or, instead 68°.4 60 of this plane, a hollow segment of a sphere of the 93° 70 same expansion, but including only 30 or 40 degrees, 121 °.5 80 is substituted. The top of the wide tube is likewise This anemometer, being furnished with a vane to bent horizontal, and drawn to a point at the same height as the minute central orifice of the cavity, make it always face the wind, might also, by an index, and bent in the opposite direction. A portion of nut- point out the direction. Nor is it absolutely requioil, tinged by the alkanet root, had been previously site that the instrument should be exposed out of introduced into the cylindrical cistern. On turning doors. The funnel, with its vane, may have a socket the small plate, or bason, to front the wind, a con- of bell-metal, nicely fitted to the top of a long perdensation, corresponding to its force, is immediately forated brass tube, which descends from the roof of produced on the opposing surface, a small portion of the house, and terminates below in the recurved tube air enters the orifice, and continues to press upon and its double scale. The impressions of the wind the oil, till this rises to form an equiponderant co- would thus be conveyed with great regularity and lumn in the wide tube. As the air can with difficul- undiminished effect to the surface of the oil. Still, ty penetrate through the very narrow bore, the irre- however, it would be impossible to avoid entirely the gular action of the blast is, in a great measure, cor- oscillations of the liquid column. Even the steadiest rected, and the oil moves rather tardily. wind will be found to blow with a reciprocating A scale is adapted bearing two sorts of divisions, force, now swelling and again relaxing, and, at certhe one indicating the impulse, and the other the ve- tain short intervals, concentrating all its vehemence. locity of the wind. Reckoning the weight of the X. Ombrometer, * or Rain-Gauge.—-A very Ombromeatmosphere equivalent to a column of oil of 400 in- simple instrument, contrived to indicate the quanti-terches in altitude, this space is subdivided into 10,000 ty, or rather the depth, of the rain which falls upon equal portions, each degree thus corresponding to any spot. It is likewise named Hyetometer, and has the 25th part of an inch. It would hence be easy been sometimes called by the barbarous compound to show, that the pressure of the wind upon every Pluviometer. It is composed generally of a circusquare foot of surface is expressed in pounds avoir- lar bason of tinned iron, soldered to the top of a dupois, by dividing by five the number of degrees vertical cylinder, w'hich is contracted in some given through which the oil ascends. proportion and closed below. A small float is inBut we may place an adjacent line of subdivisions troduced, bearing a slender rod, distinguished by the that shall mark the velocity of the wind in miles each corresponding divisions. In the most ordinary con-

* Fiom Opfigog, rain, and /jurgw, a measure* S

Meteorotogy-

its Variatie Indiestions.

METEOROLOGY. 353 struction, the bason being a foot wide, the attached tom indicates always a greater fall of rain than on Meteor_ _ _ cylinder has 3$ inches in diameter, and its section the exposed top. The observations furnished by this instrument are consequently ten times smaller. The inches on hence liable to considerable inaccuracy, unless made the rod are hence marked only tenth parts. This method of measuring the fall of rain is evi- in an open champaign country. Thus, a register dently not susceptible of much accuracy; and it would kept at Keswick gives 67^ inches, which evidently require the gauge to be very frequently visited, on ac- exceeds greatly the annual fall of rain in that discount of the loss of the water by continual evapora- trict ; the quantity at Carlisle, not 25 miles distant, tion. The more correct ombrometers have their being only 20 inches. Again, the measures of rain, bason made of brass, and turned to a fine sharp edge ; being S3 and 34£ inches in the open country about the rain, as it falls, runs though a small orifice into Manchester and Liverpool, are found to amount to the vertical cylinder, which has only about the fourth 45 and 60 inches at Lancaster and Kendal, which part of the diameter, and communicates, by means approach the flanks of a mountainous range. In geof a cock, with another perpendicular tube still nar- neral, twice as much rain falls on the western as on rower, and consisting of glass having a scale affixed. the eastern side of our island ; and the average anThe divisions of this scale are determined from the nual quantity may be reckoned at 30 inches, or it proportion of the joint sections of the cylinder and would form, if all collected, a sheet of water of that tube to the horizontal surface of the bason. In depth. According to this estimate, the whole dismaking an observation, the cock being turned, lets charge from the clouds in the course of a year, on the collected water rise to the same level in the glass every square mile of the surface of Great Britain, tube, and thus indicate its quantity, which, by ano- would, at a medium, be 1,944,643, or nearly two ther operation, is now drawn off. In the time of millions of tons. This gives about three thousand frost or snow, it becomes necessary to warm the in- tons of water for each English acre. XL Electrometer, * which detects the electri- Electromestrument gently, and make the water flow. ter We may suspect that the measure of the rain, hail, cal state of the lower atmosphere. The best instru- or snowy flakes received by the ombrometer, is not ment of this kind undoubtedly is Bennet’s, consistexactly proportioned to the extent of surface which ing of two slips of thick gold-leaf suspended from a it presents, for, while torrents pour down from the knob within a small cylinder of glass, which is surheavens, an eddy plays about the rim of the bason, mounted by a cap of brass. This may be connected deranging the regularity of the discharge. A bason with an insulated rod or wire, extending a few feet of several feet in diameter would perhaps be prefer- beyond the window. The electrometer indicates the condition of the able ; or the platform of a roof could be adopted, if it were sufficiently sloped to allow the rain to collect air only in its immediate vicinity. But when thunder storms prevail, the atmosphere becomes affected quickly. But the most perplexing circumstance affecting to a very considerable extent. Yet the indications the ombrometer is, that it has been found to indicate of the electrometer are often capricious and evanevery different quantities of rain as falling upon the scent. Whenever clouds are suddenly formed, or very same spot, according to the different elevation melt way, whether the air changes to dryness or huat which it was placed. In general, less rain is col- midity, the electrical equilibrium is disturbed. The lected in high than in low situations, even though observations made with the electrometer are hence the difference of altitude should be inconsiderable. of much less importance than was once expected, Thus it was discovered, that, in the space of a year, and have been gradually falling into neglect. XII. Drosometer, f—An instrument so called Drosometer, while 12.1 inches only fell on the top of Westminster Abbey, 18.1 inches were collected on the roof of a was proposed by Weidler, a German professor, in house sixteen feet lower, and even 22.6 inches of 1727i to measure the quantity of dew which gathers rain at the ground. Similar observations have been on the surface of a body which has been exposed to made at the summit and near the base of hills of no the open air during the night. It consisted of a bent great elevation. In such situations, we can hardly balance, which marked in grains the preponderance suppose the clouds to stretch down to the surface, or which a piece of glass of certain dimensions, laid hoto augment the lower portion of rain. We must rizontally in one of the scales, had acquired from the hence refer the copious fall near the ground to some settling and adhesion of the globules of moisture. The main objection to a drosometer of such a conother cause. Most of the rain which falls proceeds from drifting showers of short duration. The cur- struction is, that it would require to be protected rent moves more slowly along the surface, and al- from the action of the wind, and being thus screenlows the drops to descend as fast as they are formed. ed, it could not receive the whole of the dew which But being forced to mount a swelling eminence, and might otherwise have been deposited. The steel thus compressed into a narrower stream, it hurries beam too, from continual exposure to the weather, the mass of vapour along with it, and does not suffer would soon lose its polish, and become unfit for any the free or full discharge on the summit. On both accurate performance. Besides, it is in general sides of the hill, an ombrometer placed near the bot- easier to measure than to weigh a portion of liquid.

* From Eksx7pov, amber, and asrgov, a measure. f From Agong, dew, and /uirgov, a measure.

554 METEOROLOGY. MeteorA simpler and more convenient drosometer could ed at the proper hours, or in a situation sufficiently Meteor, oIog ^_ be formed on the principle of the ombrometer, or detached from the buildings and solid walls. ology. rain-gauge. Suppose a glass funnel, of about three It is customary, for the sake of convenience, to inches diameter, whose interior surface is very smooth note the thermometer in the morning, at the height and slopes towards the centre, at an angle of 15 or of the day, and again in the evening. But these 20 degrees, to be joined hermetically to a long tube, three observations must evidently furnish results besealed at the lower end, and having an equable bore low the medium temperature of the whole twenty, not exceeding the quarter of an inch, with an attach- four hours, since the accumulated warmth is reckoned scale divided into portions, corresponding to the ed but once, while the freshness partaking of the thousandth parts of an inch, on the external aper- night is counted twice. It would be nearer the ture. The only difficulty is to make the dew which truth to assume the middle point between the maxigathers during the night to run down the sides of mum and minimum though even this cannot be the funnel into the tube. To facilitate this descent, deemed absolutely correct, because the heat neither a coat of deliqueate salt of tartar may be spread with mounts nor declines in an uniform progression. The a hair pencil over the shallow surface, and renewed hottest time of the day is generally about two o’clock, as often as occasion requires. The dew, instead of and the coldest just before sunrise. This hour of settling in minute detached globules, would then be extreme descent is consequently very variable ; and attracted by the alkaline lye, which thus becoming it would be difficult to fix the times suited for obdilute, would gradually flow into the narrow cavity serving, unless they were more multiplied. But of the tube. It would be easy at any time to make even fewer observations may sometimes be made to an allowance for the very small portion of liquid al- serve the purpose. In this climate, the daily averkali blended with the dew. age may be reckoned from eight o’clock of the morning, and the month of October is found to have nearly MetearoloSuch is the complete apparatus required for keep- the mean temperature of the whole year. jncal Regi- jng a meteorological register. But those instruments The observations usually made with the hygroare not all of equal importance. The barometer, the scopes of Deluc or Saussure cannot be regarded as thermometer, and the hygrometer, may be consider- affording any definite indication of the dryness of ed as indispensable. Next to them deserve to be the atmosphere. It would essentially contribute to ranked the photometer and aethrioscope, which dis- the advancement of meteorological science, if the close the more recondite condition of the atmosphere. hygrometer which we have described were introThe atmometer, the ombrometer, and the anemome- duced into general practice. This adoption cannot ter, besides, are of consequence, from the practical be very distant. results which they furnish. Some of the monks, in the religious houses scatThe value of any meteorological register, how- tered over the Continent, might find an agreeable ever, depends on the accuracy with which it is kept. and useful occupation in recording the state of the The observations should be made in a place rather atmosphere. Many of these establishments are seatelevated, and exposed freely on all sides to the as- ed in lofty and romantic situations ; and several of pect of the sky; and they should be repeated either them, destined by their founders for the charitable at equal intervals, during day and night, or at least accommodation of travellers, occupy the summits of at those hours which represent most nearly the mean the most elevated and inaccessible mountains. Acstate of the atmosphere. These requisites are seldom curate registers kept in such towering spots are peattained, and very few registers of the weather, ac- culiarly interesting. cordingly, are entitled to much confidence. Light-houses would, from their usual position, be It cannot be expected, that registers of the wea- well fitted for observing the force and direction of ther will possess much value, so long as they are kept the wind, and the swell and relapse of the tide. The merely as objects of curiosity. Like astronomical navigators who traverse the ocean in every latitude observations, as now conducted, they should no long- might, besides keeping meteorological soundings, er be left to the chance of individual pursuit. They record the variation of the needle, and examine the would require to be unremittingly prosecuted in all intensity of magnetic attraction. variety of situations, and at the public expence. To promote the science of meteorology, it would Proper sets of meteorological instruments should be be most expedient that the various learned associaplaced not only in the regular Observatories, but sent tions, planted in different parts of the globe, should to the different Forts and Light-houses, both at home institute inquiries into the state and internal motions and at our principal foreign stations. They might of the higher strata of our atmosphere. As the ulalso be distributed among the ships employed in dis- timate results could not fail to prove advantageous covery, or engaged on distant voyages. The cost of to the public, the several governments might be exproviding those instruments would be comparatively pected to defray the moderate expence incurred in trifling, and the charge incurred, by keeping regi- carrying this plan into effect. Light small balloons sters on a regular and digested plan, might shrink to might from time to time be launched towards the nothing in the scale of national expenditure. most elevated regions, to detect by their flight the The state of the barometer alone is kept with to- existence and direction of currents which now escape lerable accuracy, because that instrument, being lit- observation. Barometex's, thermometers, hygrometle influenced by collateral circumstances, marks ters, and perhaps sethrioscopes, in compact forms, nearly the same impressions over a wide extent of and which should register themselves, might be sent surface. The thermometer, again, is seldom observ- up in. the car. Observers, furnished with accurate

METEOROLOGY. Meteor- and complete instruments, could likewise be disThe current which rushes from all sides towards Meteorology- patched occasionally to the intermediate heights in any heated portion of the atmosphere is easily ex- ology. large balloons. By classing the various meteorolo- plained and computed from the diminution of presgical journals, and Combining those ulterior facts, sure which rarefaction produces at that place. The some new lights could not fail to be struck out, celerity of the flow is precisely the same as that of which would gradually reveal that simple harmony, the efflux from a small aperture under the pressure w’hich no doubt pervades all the apparent complica- of a column equivalent to that diminution, or to the tion of the universal frame. Till we obtain such in- difference between the weight of the warm air and sight, we must content ourselves with the best expli- of an equal volume of the exterior fluid. Thus, cations of the phenomena of the atmosphere, which suppose a chimney 20 feet high, were heated up our imperfect and limited knowledge will admit. We 50 centesimal degrees, or 90 on Fahrenheit’s scale; shall, therefore, treat in succession of the origin of the air in the flue being therefore expanded onewinds ; the generation of clouds and fogs; and their fifth part or four feet, would be driven upwards by precipitation in the form of rain, snow, or hail. the pressure of a column compensating this differOther collateral objects will be discussed, as they ence. The velocity of the discharge would hence be present themselves to view. The narrow space which feet every second, or at the rate of about we have allotted to this discourse must confine our eleven miles in the hour. If a fire be kindled in an remarks to the more general topics. open field, it is evident that the rush of air must Cause of 1. Wind.—It is a curious circumstance, that in all proceed from all sides. At the spot itself, thereWind. languages the ordinary name of air refers to its mo- fore, the opposite currents will produce a counter bility, and merely signifies to blow. This impulse balance, and no dominant wind can prevail. But if alone of the fluid appears to have awakened our the warm air should cover a very wide extent of sursensations; and had the atmosphere continued per- face, its influence may be felt at a great distance, fectly still, we might forages have remained ignorant and the several converging winds may have space to of the very existence of the fluid which we breathe. blow without any mutual interference. The main cause of wind, or the flow of air, is unThese views afford a complete explication of the Sea and doubtedly the variable distribution of heat through phenomena of sea and land breezes, which are occa- Land the atmosphere, which incessantly affects the local sionally met with in every latitude, but are con- Breezesdensity, and disturbs the equilibrium of the mass. stantly observed near the shores of the continent, The presence of the sun affects the surface of the and of the larger islands within the tropics. In those terraqueous globe, which again warms and dilates sultry regions, as the day advances, a refreshing the lower strata of atmosphere. The calorific action wind blows from the sea, and is succeeded by an opof the solar beams is greatly diminished by their obli- posite current from the interior of the land on the quity ; it rapidly accumulates on the land, but becomes approach of evening, and during a great part of the attenuated and diffused in the waters of the ocean. night. In open seas, and especially near the equaThe alternation of day and night, and the annual tor, the thermometer scarcely varies a degree, and revolution of the seasons, are hence the perpetual very seldom two degrees, by Fahrenheit’s scale, in sources of winds. If the surface of the globe, how- the whole course of a day. But on the land the ever, had been wholly covered by the ocean, and change of temperature between the night and day, not disparted by land and seas, those winds must in similar situations, will rise often higher than 76 have been scarcely perceptible. The daily illumina- centesimal degrees, or 126 of Fahrenheit. If we, tion of the sun does not warm the ground to the therefore, conceive a stratum of air 2000 feet in aldepth of an inch ; but the same quantity of illumi- titude, heated only to the mean difference, or three nation penetrates, though with a decreasing inten- centesimal degrees, it would receive an expansion of sity, many fathoms into water, spreading and divid- 24 feet; whence the velocity of the wind produced ing its influence. We may reckon the tenth part would be 8^/24=39 feet every second, or at the rate of the incident light to be intercepted by a superfi- of 26 miles in the hour. This is a very moderate esticial stratum of the thickness of one foot; and it mate ; but the celerity of the current must, no doubt, will hence follow, that the solar beams communicate be diminished from the retardation which it suffers in every day a hundred times less heat to the surface proportion to the length of track over which it has of a body of water than to an expansion of level to sweep. ground. The subsequent influence again of those During the night the lower atmosphere is colder contrasted surfaces in warming the incumbent air, on land than at sea, owing partly to the descent of must be proportionally different, though slightly the more elevated and colder portions of air which modified by the portion of light reflected from the chill the surface of the ground, and partly to those water. In a general view, the diurnal variation of cold pulses which are incessantly darted from every temperature in the atmosphere may be considered point of the azure sky. If we reckon the reduced as limited to the lowest stratum, not exceeding 2000 temperature of the land only a centesimal degree feet in height. Such a body of air will intercept and a half below the standard of the adjacent ocean, commonly the fiftieth part of all the light which this would give 12 feet for the contraction of the traverses it. We may hence conclude, that the vertical column of air, and, consequently, a stream change of temperature in the air, caused by the suc- would flow towards the sea with a celerity of SJ\2 cession of day and night, is, on the whole, about =28 feet per second, or very nearly 20 miles every thirty times less above a spacious lake than over the hour. In general, the land breeze may be considersurrounding land. ed not so powerful as what blows from the sea. VOL. v. PART II. zz

55

Meteorology-

METEOR 0 L 0 G Y. The ordinary appearances r are clearly and graphi- places not so many miles, and in some places they Meteorcally described by that verj intelligent and enter- scarce peep without the rocks, or, if they do some- ®^gy* times in very fair weather make a sally out a mile or prising navigator, Captain Dampier: . two, they are not lasting, but suddenly vanish away, “ These sea-breezes do commonly rise in the morn- though yet there are every night as fresh land-winds ing about nine o'clock, sometimes sooner, sometimes ashore at those places as in any other part of the later. They first approach the shore so gently, as if world. they were afraid to come near it, and oftimes they “ Indeed, these winds are an extraordinary blessmake some faint breathings, and as if not willing to ing to those that use the sea in any part of the offend, they make a halt, and seem ready to retire. I have waited many a time both ashore to receive world within the tropics ; for as the constant tradewinds do blow, there could be no sailing in these the pleasure, and at sea to take the benefit of it. “ It comes in a fine, small, black curl upon the seas; but by the help of the sea and land-breezes, water, when as all the sea between it and the shore ships will sail 200 or 300 leagues, as particularly from Jamaica to the Lagune of Trist, in the bay not yet reached by it is as smooth and even as glass of Campeachy, and then back again, all against the in comparison; in half an hour s time after it has reached the shore it fans pretty briskly, and so in. trade-wind. “ The seamen that sail in sloops or other small creaseth gradually till twelve o clock, then it is comvessels in the West Indies, do know very well when monly strongest, and lasts so till two or three a very brisk gale ; about twelve at noon it also veers off to they shall meet a brisk land-wind by the fogs that sea two or three points, or more, in very fair weather. hang over the land before night; for it is a certain After three o’clock it begins to die away again, and sign of a good land-wind to see a thick fog lie still gradually withdraws its force till all is spent, and and quiet, like smoke over the land, not stirring any about five o'clock, sooner or later, according as the way; and we look out for such signs when we are weather is, it is lulled asleep, and comes no more plying to windward. For if we see no fog over the land, the land-wind will be but faint and short that till the next morning. “ These winds are as constantly expected as the night. These signs are to be observed chiefly in day in their proper latitudes, and seldom fail but in fair weather: for in the wet season fogs do hang the wet season. On all coasts of the main, whether over the land all the day, and it may be neither landin the East or West Indies, or Guinea, they rise in wind nor sea-breeze stirring. If in the afternoon the morning, and withdraw towards the evening, yet also in fair weather we see a tornado over the land, capes and head-lands have the greatest benefit ot it commonly sends us forth a fresh land-wind. “ These land-winds are very cold, and though the them, where they are highest, rise earlier, and blow sea-breezes are always much stronger, yet these are later. '- to notice, very briefly, the more considerable only of those opinions. Des Cartes and his followers imputed the tradewinds to the inertia of the atmosphere, which they conceived to prevent this fluid from acquiring the full rotation of the earth, especially near the equator. The air being thus left behind as the globe rolled from the west, would have an apparent motion in the contrary direction, and seem to blow from the east. But it may be urged, that as passengers almost insensibly gain the celerity of the ship which carries them, so every portion of the incumbent atmosphere, though more loosely adherent to the terraqueous surface, must soon acquire the peculiar motion corresponding to the parallel of latitude. Nor would the inequality of such combined movements in the air at all disturb the order and arrangement of its general mass. Halley’s Dr Halley gave a different explication of the oriHrpothesis. gin of trade-winds, which seems very plausible, and has long been deemed quite satisfactory. This able philosopher and experienced navigator supposed, that the spot w'here the sun’s vertical rays exert their utmost heating energy, being in the lapse of a day successively transferred from east to west round the circumference of the globe, must, as a centre of confluence, draw in its train a current of air. The current thus formed would result from the excess of the streaming from the east above that from the west; and it would therefore advance with a tardy pace, following at a distance the powerful energy of the sun. The same easterly wind might incline towards the north or the south, according as the great luminary appears to approach to the northern or the southern tropic. But it should be observed, that the torrid zone stretches mostly over the ocean, and includes only a narrow portion of land. The heat excited in succession through that liquid track, by the diurnal passage of the sun, is hence extremely small, and hardly sufficient to produce the aspiration of the gentlest air. Nor could even this feeble current have a decided and constant direction. It would only tend towards the heated part of the surface of the ocean. In the morning, it would breathe from the west; about noon, it would become neutral, and die away; and, in the evening, it would again spring up, and flow from the east. Near midnight this current would sink into a perfect calm. The hypothesis will, therefore, not bear any strict examination. It is neither adequate to the production of such effects, nor accordant with the actual phenomena of the trade-winds. It casts a false glare over the subject, without elucidating its real bearings. True The first who succeeded in taking a correct view Theory. of the question was George Hadley, in a short paper inserted in the Philosophical Transactions for 1735. By combining in some measure the idea of Des Cartes with the opinion of Halley, he produced a clear and simple account of the cause of trade-winds, which appears entirely consistent and free from every objection. Though the daily variation of temperature be very inconsiderable within the tropics, yet the annual accumulation of heat renders

R 0 L O G Y. 357 the equatorial regions much warmer than the high- Mcteorer latitudes, and consequently maintains a perpetual ul°g^_ current of air from either side. If those aerial mo' tions were not modified by the figure and rotation of the globe, there would always be two opposite winds blowing directly from the north and from the south to the equator. But the stream which perhaps originates at the northern tropic, in advancing to the equator, must seem gradually to deflect towards the west, in consequence of the increasing velocity with which the successive parallels of latitude are carried eastwards. During the time this current takes to perform its journey, it is apparently transported to the west, through a space equal to the excess of the arc described by the equator above the corresponding arc traced by the tropic. The current from the southern tropic is equally bent towards the west. When both ef them meet at the equator, their opposite impulsions from the north and the south are extinguished, and they flow directly west in a single united stream, and with accumulated force. The apparent motions of the different streamlets which from both hemispheres conspire to constitute the tradewind, is represented in Fig. 18, Plate XCVII. But it is not enough to connect the general facts; Its Details, a complete theory should harmonize all the subordinate details. An easy calculation accordingly is conducted to those precise results which are commensurate and exactly congruous with the actual phenomena. The trade-wind may be reckoned to begin about the latitude of 25 degrees. At this parallel, the mean temperature is four centesimal degrees colder than immediately under the equator, which difference of heat may graduate through the atmosphere to the altitude of 10,000 feet. Wherefore the expansion of the air at the equator which draws to it a meridional wind, will amount to a column of 100 feet. The velocity of the current hence produced must be 8^100, or 80 feet every second, which corresponds to 54 miles in the hour. But each point on the parallel of 24'° is carried eastwards by its revolution about the earth’s axis 7 miles faster every hour than on the parallel of 25°. Consequently, when the wind arrives at the parallel of 24'’, it will seem to have acquired a tendency of 7 miles an hour to the west. As it reaches the successive parallels of 23°, 22°, 21°, &c. it will gain continual, though decreasing, additions to its apparent westerly course, which at the equator will have augmented to 104 miles in the hour. In this calculation, we have made no deduction for the resistance which the streams of air must experience in sweeping over the surface of the globe, because no experiments have been made to ascertain the effect of such retardation. It is no doubt less on the ocean than on the land, and must evidently be diminished in proportion to the depth of the mass of fluid which is borne along. Still, however, this obstruction, joined to this impediment of internal motion, must be very considerable; and we may safely reduce the numbers before stated to one-third, which would give 18 miles an hour for the celerity of the primary meridional wind, and 35 miles for that of the oriental or trade-wind, resulting from the influence of the figure and rotation of the earth.

358 Meteorolc) gy*

METEOR Our northern hemisphere presenting to the action of the solar beams a larger surface of land than the southern, is, on the whole, rather warmer. Hence the parallel of greatest heat runs not exactly through the equator, but about three degrees farther north. This circle is therefore strictly the mean path of the aggregate easterly streams of air. But though the hottest part within the torrid zone, taking the average of a whole year, occupies the parallel of three degrees north latitude, it must to a certain extent shift its position with the seasons. In the summer months, the sun shines twice vertical upon the tropic of Cancer, and consequently raises the temperature of the northern half of the zone. During winter again, this effect is transferred to the southern half of'the torrid region. In the progress of summer, therefore, the trade-wind gradually bends about a point towards the north ; but as winter advances, it declines as much to the south. Such is the character of that general wind which encircles the globe, flowing with slight deviation constantly from the east, and spreading over a zone of more than 50 degrees in breadth. It sweeps the Atlantic Ocean from the coast of Africa to Brazil, and the Pacific from Panama to the Philippine Isles and New Holland, and again the Indian seas partially fom Sumatra to Zanguehar. Monsoons. The trade-wind undergoes an essential modification, however, where the continent stretches into the torrid zone. The sun acting more powerfully upon the land than upon the surface of the sea, the accumulated warmth is much greater, and shifts with the revolution of the seasons on either side of the equator. The centre of heat approaches in summer to the northern, and in winter to the southern tropic. Instead of the great eastern stream, those regions have two opposite periodic winds alternating towards the north and the south, and called the monsoons. When these winds advance to the equator, they conjoin an apparent easterly velocity; but when they recede from the equator, they carry their excess of velocity from the west. A diagonal motion results from the combined tendencies. In the Arabian and Indian seas, on the north side of the equator, the monsoon blows north-west during the summer months, from April to October; and in the opposite direction, or south-east, during the winter. But on the south side of the equator, near Java and Sumatra, the course of the monsoon is north-east in summer, and south-west in winter. The primary winds which blow from the parallels of 25 or 30 degrees to the equator, must evidently give rise to opposite currents that flow in the higher atmosphere towards the poles. These streams, after they have travelled beyond the tropics, may descend to the surface, transporting the celerity of equatorial rotation. They will appear, therefore, tb blow from the western quarter, with the excess of their previous velocity above that of the parallel which they reach. Hence a westerly breeze, of considerable force and regularity, prevails in either hemisphere above the latitude of 30 degrees. The same winds cross the Atlantic from Newfoundland to Cornwall, and traverse the Southern Ocean from the Plata to the Cape of Good Hope, and thence to New Hol-

O L O G Y. land. Any wind which blows from the quarter in- Meteordining to the south of the west comes really from 0I°gy* the equatorial region, and is therefore relatively warm. Such is the disposition of our westerly winds, which commonly prevail for nine months in the year. On the same principle, a wind which blows directly from the arctic pole, and impregnated with intense cold, must, in consequence of the rotation of the globe, appear to arrive from some point to the north of the east. In passing through the first degree of latitude, it will suffer a deflection of 18 miles in the hour towards the west; in a short space, therefore, it will seem to flow with impetuous force, and almost directly from the east. Hence our easterly and north-easterly winds have a polar origin, and are always bitterly cold. Local winds could be explained, if the different Local circumstances which affect them were distinctly Winds, known. The latitude and temperature of the place —its relative position—the figure and contour of the surrounding country—would all enter into the calculation. We shall content ourselves with a concise notice of some peculiar winds. The Bize is a cold piercing wind, which blows from the ridge of the Jura, and the frozen summits of the Pyrennees. The Sirocco is a hot, moist, and relaxing wind, which visits Naples and the south of Italy, from the opposite shores of the Mediterranean. The Harmattan seems to be a cold and dry wind, of a very parching quality, which is frequent in Africa and some of the eastern countries. The Samiel, or Simoom, is a burning pestilential blast, extremely arid, which springs up at times in the vast desarts of Arabia, and rushes with tremendous fury, involving whole pillars of sand. II. Clouds.—Their formation and dissolution pro- Theory of duce all the varied train of the meteorological phe- Clouds, nomena. The humidity suspended in the atmosphere is derived by exhalation partly from the land, but ultimately from the vast expanse of the ocean. A surface of lake, of pasture, corn-fields or forest, supports a continual evaporation, augmented only by the dryness of the air, and the rapidity of its successive contacts. Even ploughed land will supply nearly as much moisture to the exhaling fluid as an equal sheet of water. It is only when the ground has become quite parched, that it obstinately retains its latent store. If the whole of the waters, which fall from the heavens, were to return again, the evaporation from the ground might be sufficient alone to maintain the perpetual circulation. But more than one-third of all the rains and melted snows are carried by the rivers into the ocean, which must hence restore this continued waste. The commerce of land and sea is thus a necessary part of the economy of nature. The air, in exhaling its watery store, is rendered quite damp ; but it may afterwards become dry, on being transported to a warmer situation. Such is the case of the sea breeze, particularly in summer. It arrives on the shore, cold and moist; but as it advances into the interior of the continent, it grows milder and drier. The same principle accounts for the disposition of different winds in respect to humidity. At Colombo, in the island of Ceylon, as we gather from some remarks of Dr Davy, the north12

METEOROLOGY. 359 Meteor- east monsoon, with a temperature of only 68 on darted from the ground and the inferior strata of the Meteorology- Fahrenheit’s scale, has yet a dryness of 75 hygrome- atmosphere. We shall not err much, if we estimate oIogytrie degrees; but the opposite monsoon, from the the position of extreme humidity at the height of ^ south-west, though at 82 by the thermometer, is so two miles at the pole, and four miles and a half undamp as to indicate scarcely SO degrees. The cold der the equator, or a mile and a half beyond the liwind, coming from the north, was rendered warmer mit of congelation. This range is represented in Fig.Modificaand drier in its progress; while the hot wind, flow- 18, Plate XCVII. running nearly parallel to the curve ing from the equator, was somewhat chilled and made of perpetual congelation, but bending nearer in approaching the equatorial parts. It marks the mean damper as it approached Ceylon. Since air in mounting upwards has its capacity for height of the clouds in different latitudes, and intiheat enlarged, and becomes colder, it will hence mates the shading into the fine etherial expanse. The moisture deposited by a body of air in minute likewise grow proportionally damper. But a continual intercourse being maintained between the lower globules, which remain suspended or subside slowly and the higher atmosphere, the middle region must, in the atmosphere, constitutes a Cloud. When it from its chillness, be soon charged with moisture. If comes near us, whether it hovers on the tops of the this tendency were to act, therefore, without con- hills, or spreads over the vallies, it receives the name trol, the heavens would have been shrowded with of a Fog. The cold occasioned by the ascent, or perpetual clouds and darkness, and never could the transfer of air, may be sufficient to form thin clouds, cheering rays of the sun have visited the surface of but a more powerful and extended energy is requirthe earth. A principle of conservation happily oc- ed for the production of Rain. The subject has curs to restrain, and finally to overpower the effect from the earliest times engaged the attention of phiof cold, in disposing air to part with its mois- losophers, who have made numerous unavailing atture. By expansion, this fluid is made capable of tempts to explain it. At length, the very ingenious holding, at the same temperature, a larger share of. Dr James Hutton subjected the problem to a correct humidity. Each portion of air, in rising vertically, analysis, and succeeded in deducing a most satisfactogrows, from the predominance of cold, constantly ry solution. His fine. Theory of Rain, which first apdamper; but after having reached a certain altitude, peared in the Transactions of the Royal Society of it again becomes gradually drier, from the influence Edinburgh for the year 1787, constitutes an epoch of its wide dilatation. Every time the air has its in meteorological science. Its merits, however, have volume doubled, it acquires an additional dryness been slowly perceived by the public, because the aucorresponding to 50 hygrometric degrees. Hence thor, full of his original conception, satisfied himself one degree would be the effect of the rarefaction with merely sketching the general outline. But it of only the 72d part. This small variation again was not enough that the operation of the principle answers to a depressed temperature of on the advanced should always cause rain; it was farther centesimal scale, which, near the surface, will occa- requisite, that the results arising from its application sion an increase of humidity equal to the actual range should quite accord with the actual phenomena. We of the solvent power of the air divided by 31.4. shall, therefore, endeavour to render this theory more Suppose the thermometer to mark 15° centesimal at definite, and more complete. Air in cooling becomes ready, we have seen, to Hutton’s the ground, the air would, for each ascent of about part with its moisture. But how is it cooled in theTh.eory°f 200 390 feet, be , or 8 hygrometric degrees damper, free atmosphere, unless by the contact or commix-Rain* 31.4 ture of a colder portion of the same fluid ? Now, which wouldbe reduced to 7° by the influence of dilata- the portion of the air which is chilled must in an tion. Had the temperature at the surface been as equal degree warm the other. If, in consequence of low as—25°, which answers to a solvent power of this mutual change of condition, the former be dis31 the opposite agencies of cold and rarefaction posed to resign its moisture, the latter is more inwould evidently have produced a perfect balance, clined to retain it; and, consequently, if such oppoand the same dryness would have continued to a site effects were balanced, there could, on the whole, moderate height. be no precipitation of humidity whatever. The sepaTheir Mean It would be easy to show that d, expressing the ration of moisture, on the mixing of two masses of Height. density of the air at any altitude, and h the corre- damp air at different temperatures, would therefore prove, that the dissolving power of air suffers more sponding indication of the hygrometer, diminution from losing part of the combined heat, will denote the increment of humidity occasioned by than it acquires augmentation from gaining an equal depressed temperature, while the corresponding de- measure of it; and, consequently, this power must, crement resulting from expansion is one degree. under equal accessions of heat, increase more slowly Hence at the pole the position of the maximum hu- at first than it does afterwards, thus advancing almidity in the atmosphere must occur at an elevation ways with accumulated celerity. The quantity of moisture which air can hold thus Illustrations, of 13,300 feet; where the density is .6, the temperature would stand at 26.7°, and the hygrometric range increases in a much faster ratio than its temperature. only 290. Under the equator, that limit would attain This great principle in the economy of nature was a much greater altitude, and yet not rise so far traced by Dr Hutton from indirect experience. It above the curve of perpetual congelation. It is pro- is the simplest of the accelerating kind, and perfectly bable, however, that the canopy of clouds descends agrees with the law of solution, which the hygromeconsiderably lower, being warmed by the hot pulses ter has established. Suppose equal bulks of air in a

360 M E T E O R 0 LOG Y. Meteor- state of saturation, and at the different temperatures mixture at 80° and 100° amounts to 19°. This re- Meteorol °gJ'* of 15 and 45 centesimal degrees, were intermixed, suit is entirely conformable to observation, for show- ol°gy*the compound arising from such union will evidently ers are most copious during hot weather and in the have the mean temperature of 30°. But since, at tropical climates. r these temperatures, the one portion held 200 parts Ihe quantity of moisture precipitated from the atof humidity, and the other 800, the aggregate must mosphere thus depends on a variety of circumcontain 1000 parts, or either half of it 500 ; at the stances,—on the previous dampness of the commixmean or resulting temperature, however, this portion ed portions of the fluid,—their difference of heat, could only suspend 400 parts of humidity, and. con- the elevation of their mean temperature,—and the sequently, the difference, or 100 parts, amounting to extent of the combination which takes place. When the two hundredth part of the whole weight of air, this deposition is slow, the very minute aqueous glomust be precipitated from the compound mass. bules remain suspended, and form clouds; but if it As another illustration, let air of 15° be mixed be rapid and copious, those particles conglomerate, with air at the temperature of 35°, in three different and produce, according to the state of the medium proportions, all at the point of saturation ; one part with regard to heat, rain, hail, or snow. being combined with three parts, two with two, and The profuse precipitation of humidity is caused Velocity of three with one. The temperatures arising from the by a rapid commixture of opposite strata. The ac-the D«>ps commixture would be 20°, 25°, and 30° ; the corre- tion of swift contending currents in the atmosphere of Kain* sponding parts of moisture precipitated from the mass brings quickly into mutual contact vast fields of air being derived from the intermediate proportions of over a given spot. The separation of moisture is 200 and 504, are 352—317-5, or 34.5, 27(5—252 or hence proportionally copious. In temperate wea24, 352.—317-5 or 34.5, and 428—400 or 28. These ther, this deposition forms rain; but, in the cold depositions are represented in Fig. 8, Plate XCVII. season, the aqueous globules, freezing in the midby the several intervals between the logarithmic curve air into icy spiculae, which collect in their slow deand the oblique line which connects the summits of scent, become converted into flakes of snow. Hail the ordinates of 15° and 35°. is formed under different circumstances, and geneIn these examples we have assumed the portions rally in sudden alternations of the fine season, the of differently heated air to be quite charged with drops of rain being congealed during their fall, by moisture before mixing; but it is only required that passing through a lower stratum of dry and cold air. they should approach to the point of humidity. The The drops of rain vary in their size perhaps from effect, however, of simple commixture would, in the twenty-fifth to a quarter of an inch in diameter. most cases, be very small. To explain the actual In parting from the clouds, they precipitate their phenomena, we must have recourse to the mutual descent till the increasing resistance opposed by the operation of a chill and of a warm current, driving air becomes equal to their weight, when they conswiftly in opposite directions, and continually mix- tinue to Fill with an uniform velocity. This acing and changing their conterminous surfaces. By quired or terminal velocity is therefore in the subthis rapidity, a larger volume of the fluid is brought duplicate ratio of the diameters of the aqueous glointo contact in a given time. Suppose, for instance, bules. A thunder shower hence pours down much the one current to have a temperature of 50, and faster than a drizzling rain. In general, if d express the other that of 70 degrees, by Fahrenheit’s scale; the diameter of a drop in parts of an inch, the terthe blending surfaces will, therefore, assume the minal velocity, according to theory, will be denoted mean temperature of 60°. Consequently, the two by l&Jd, or if the usual correction be made for the streams throw together 200 and 334.2 parts of discrepancy in fluids, it will be 61 Jd. Thus a drop moisture, making 567-1 parts for the compound, of the twenty-fifth part of an inch, in falling through which, at its actual temperature, can hold only 258.6 the air, would only gain a celerity of 11| feet, and parts; the difference, or 8.6 parts, forms the mea- while one of a quarter of an inch would acquire a sure of precipitation, corresponding to the 2325th celerity of 33J? feet. A flake of snow being perhaps of the whole weight of the commixed air. It would nine times more expanded than water, would dethus require a column of air 30 miles in length to scend thrice as slow. But hail-stones are often of furnish, over a given spot, and in the space of an considerable dimensions, exceeding sometimes the hour, a deposit of moisture equal to the height of an length of an inch. They may hence fall with a veinch. If the sum of the opposite velocities amount- locity of 70 feet each second, or at the rate of about ed to 60 miles an hour, and the intermingling influ- 50 miles in the hour. Striking the ground with ence extended but to a quarter of an inch at the such impetuous force, it is easy to conceive the exgrazing surfaces, there would still, on this supposi- tensive injury which a hail shower may occasion in tion, be produced in the same time a fall of rain the hotter climates. The destructive power of those reaching to half an inch in altitude. missiles in stripping and tearing the fruits and foliThese quantities come within the limits of proba- age, increases besides in a faster ratio than the mobility, and agree sufficiently with experience and ob- mentum, and may be estimated by the square of servation. But in the higher temperatures, though their velocity multiplied into mass. This fatal enthe difference of the heat between the opposite strata ergy is hence as the fourth power of the diameter of air should remain the same, the measure of aque- of the hail-stone. ous precipitation is greatly increased. Thus, while IH. Optical Phenomena—It remains for us the mixing of equal masses of air, at the tempera- to explain the general optical appearances of the tures of 40° and 60°, is only 6.6, that from a like sky. When the rays of the sun strike upon a

Meteorol °^

Rainbows.

Halos.

M E T E O R 0 L O G Y. 361 cloud, they are eopiously reflected, but partly ab- window-shutter of a dark room. But even when Meteorsorbed by the minute suspended globules. In the sun shines from an azure firmament, circles of 0’°syworking their progress through the mass of va- the richest tints may be produced by experiment. pour, they suffer a great diminution from the mul- Holding a hot poker below, and a little before J^cir Ur * tiplied acts of absorption. The quantity of light the small hole of the shutter, throw a few drops of” thus finally detained depends on the density of the water upon, and the sun will be painted on the paper clouds and its thickness. But the portion which like the glowing radiations of the passion Jlovoer. penetrates through the nebulous medium is always The appearance is exactly similar to what the tramuch less than what traverses an equal body of air. veller, in awakening from a short slumber, perceives, In extreme cases, perhaps, the solar beams will suf- in a winter’s morning, on opening his wearied eyes fer greater defalcation by repeated repercussions with- to a burning candle—concentric rings of violet, in a congregated cloud, than from passing through green, yellow, and red. fifty times the same extent of a clear aerial expanse. The explication formerly given of the cause of Hence such clouds always appear dark and black halos, even that proposed by Newton himself, is inby their scanty transmitted light. Whiteness being admissible—since it would confine them, like the produced by the copious emission of intermingled rainbows, to certain definite limits, whereas they rays, can belong only to very thin clouds. The appear with every possible degree of extension. Our depth of shade indicates the mass of floating vapour. earliest inquiries led us to refer the origin of halos Owing to the excessive minuteness of the aqueous to the deflexion of light, or that property of the rays globules, the particles of light are only reflected or to.bend and divide as they pass near the edge of a absorbed at their external surface, without entering body. Thus the light admitted through a very narthem. But when they collect into large drops, the row slit in a card, or a bit of tinfoil, spreads into luminous pencil which strikes at a certain angle, con- bright coloured fringes. The finer also is the slit, verges by refraction to a point of the posterior sur- the broader are the fringes. A similar appearance face, and after suffering one or more interior reflec- is obtained by looking at the elongated flame of a tions, it emerges dissected into its primitive colours. candle through the delicate fibres of a feather, or Hence the glorious vision of the rainbow, which was even through the streaks of grease rubbed by the reduced to mathematical calculation by Des Cartes, finger along a piece of glass. But if a very small but only received its complete explication from the round hole be substituted for the slit, the fringes optical discoveries of Newton. The phenomena oc- will change into coloured rings. Thus, if a piece of cur whenever the sun shines upon the falling drops tinfoil, punctured with the point of a needle, be held of rain behind the spectator, the coloured arch being close to the eye, the sun will appear through it sura portion of circle, whose centre is a point in the rounded by a halo very near his disc, but spreading sky directly opposite to the sun. The primary or more in proportion as the hole is contracted. That interior bow is formed by a single reflexion, and ingenious artist, Mr Troughton, constructed for us a lies 45° beyond that centre; but the secondary or slide of brass, and afterwards another of platina, persuperior bow, produced by a double reflexion, ap- forated with a series of the finest conical holes, which pears with inverted tints at the distance of 56°. A were measured by his delicate micrometer. The ternary bow' may exist, but being so extremely faint purpose was to compare the angle subtended by the from the repeated reflexions, it is scarcely ever per- coloured ring, with the diameter of the perforation, ceived. It hence follows, that rainbows are only it being inferred that an aqueous globule of the same visible when the altitude of the sun is below 45° and dimension might, by the exterior deflexion of the 56°. In summer, accordingly, they are not seen in solar rays, produce a similar halo. But our variable this climate about the middle of the day. For the sky is very seldom fit for any refined optical experisame reason, they generally appear less than a semi- ment, and many delays happening to intervene, we circle ; but viewed from the top of a spire, or any could arrive at no very precise or certain result. lofty pinnacle, they embrace nearly the whole cir- We may state, however, as at least an approximacumference. Lunar rainbows may be frequently tion, that the globules of the diffuse vapour which observed, only the faintness of their colours makes occasions the appearance of coloured circles about them far less conspicuous. the sun and moon, vary from the 5000th to the The coloured rings or halos which are often seen 50,000th part of an inch in diameter. When the surrounding the moon and sun, are evidently occa- halo] approaches nearest to the luminous body, the sioned by very thin vapour diffused through the largest globules are floating, and therefore the atatmosphere. They are supposed chiefly to encircle mosphere is surcharged with humidity. Hence the the moon; but, in this climate, hardly a day passes justness of the vulgar remark, that a dense halo close with light fleckered clouds, when at least portions to the moon portends rain. of halos may not be perceived near the sun. It is Nearly the same theory has been struck out by only necessary to remove the glare of light which Dr Thomas Young, to whose profound ingenuity, makes the delicate colours appear white. Thus, if and most extensive information, we are glad to bear we examine the reflexion from a smooth surface of honourable testimony. By a skilful application of water, we shall perceive that the sun gilds the fleecy the principle of deflected light, he has likewise conclouds with segments of beautiful coloured rings. structed the Eriometer, a curious instrument for Eriometer. This effect is still more distinctly seen, if the rays measuring the size of the fibres of wool and other from a hazy or mottled sky be received upon a sheet filamentous substances. But we cannot at present of white paper, held before a small hole in the enter inta the details.

METEOROLOGY. 362 MeteorThe same acute philosopher has given perhaps the conterminous strata, which may be assumed as the Meteorology- only true account of the origin ot the parhelia or same as their difference of density. This variation t °logy. ' rmock-suns, which are frequently seen in the arctic in a stratum of air 28 feet thick is only the thouregions during certain dispositions ot the atmo- sandth part of the whole refraction, and is hence Piirheha. Spilere> gorgeous appearance of intersecting equal to the effect of the quarter of a centesimal deluminous arches, studded with opposite and trans- gree. But since a much greater difference of heat verse images of the sun, he ascribes to the combin- often occurs within that limit, the incurvation of the ed reflexions of the rays from the natural facets of trajectory must be proportionally increased. Huthe snowy spiculce floating abundantly in the air. midity, by dilating the air, will produce a similar efWe cannot develope this theory, however, without fect, though in a much inferior degree, unless in some discussion and the help of diagrams. It may very high temperatures. Dr W. H. Wollaston, whose acuteness in devising Expericlaim our attention afterwards, if Captain Parry’s return from the north shall bring us more definite philosophical experiments is unrivalled, has beenmfntsof able to exhibit on a small scale the various appear-" ol5aston’ information. Phenomena Another most remarkable optical deception oc- ances occasioned by irregular atmospheric refraction. a of irregular curs peculiar state of the atmosphere on the His paper inserted in the Philosophical Transactions Horizontal verge of the horizon in various countries, and espe- for 1800, contains a very clear exposition of the pheKefraction cially in the warmer climates, whether on the level nomena. On looking lengthwise over the side of a treme^Obli P^a‘ns» or on t^e margio rivers or lakes, and near red-hot poker at a distant object, besides the ordi\uity. " sea-shore. In such situations the remote ob- nary image, another inverted one was seen within jects often appear with extraordinary elevation, and the edge of the streaming air, and a larger erect one in double or inverted images. This singular phe- still nearer the poker, as represented in Fig. 14. nomenon is obviously caused by the irregular re- The deviation was here only half a degree, but fractions which the rays of light occasionally suffer along a red-hot bar of iron, the separation of the imaby passing through the different strata of the lower ges was increased to a degree and a quarter. On atmosphere. When the effect is confined to the ap- directing the eye over the surface of a green beard, parent elevation of an object, our seamen call it which had been heated by exposure to sun, a double looming; but if inverted images be formed, the image was distinctly seen. Another board, merely French and Italians give to this play of vision the ap- wetted with water, betrayed a similar disposition, pellations of mirage and fata morgana. The ship- though it was very difficult to distinguish the irreguping and range of buildings on the shore of Naples lar image, its elevation being only S'. But on moishave from Messina sometimes appeared floating in- tening the surface of the board with alcohol, the verted in the air. In the autumn of 1798, the coast of images were easily seen at a separation of 15'. Still France was distinctly seen raised above the sea, from more conspicuous was the appearance on spreading the beach of Hastings; the appearance lasted about an a little aether over a plate of glass, for the irregular hour, and then sunk beneatli the horizon. In the fol- image showed itself 72° raised. lowing year, Professor Vince watched the phenoIt was easy to imitate and examine the natural His Illustramena at Ramsgate with a large telescope. On phenomena, by means of a square parallelepiped com-tion’ Observations the afternoon of the 1st of August he first de- posed of plate glass. Having filled the half of this of Vince, scried the sails of a ship, but as she came fuller in w'ith cold water, let hot water be gently poured over view, he perceived another inverted image just be- it, and the cover placed upon the top. (See Fig. 15, low the surface of the water. Fig. 16, Plate XCVII. Plate XCVII.) On standing a few feet behind the represents the successive appearances : A is the ship parallelepiped, and looking at distant objects through when first observed, B after she had approached, the stratum where the cold and hot water have beand C the inverted image. Fig. 17 exhibits a varia- come blended, the double and inverted images will tion of the effect; A marks the ship entering the for a short time be clearly perceived. But a more horizon, C and B the double image of the ships durable effect is obtained, by filling one-third of the when near, a portion of the sea lying between their glass case, as represented in fig. 15, with syrup, or a opposite traces. To produce the appearances now strong solution of white sugar, another third with represented, it was requisite that the rays of light, in distilled water, and the rest with pure alcohol. A traversing the lower strata of the air, should describe mutual penetration slowly takes place between the curves, whose final tangents point in the visual di- conterminous surfaces of the alcohol A and the warections of the objects. These curves or trajectories ter B, and between this and the syrup C ; and after are delineated in fig. 13, where E marks the place of the lapse of perhaps two or three days, the blending the observer, zb the horizon, b the hull, and a the spaces become sufficiently broad for observation. mast of the ship ; the lowest image is formed by the The appearances then are nearly such as those that curves 6 s E and a £ E, above this the curves 61; E have been sketched in the plate. and a « E give an inverted image, and the curves This mode of experiment is at once simple and His Expli6 E and a m E exhibit the highest erect image. convincing. The theory which Dr Wollaston draws cationIn ordinary cases, a ray of light, in crosing differ- from it is equally ingenious, but not so demonstrativeent layers of the atmosphere, describes a trajectory, ly established as its author presumes. It rests chiefwhich is nearly the portion of a circle, having six ly on the supposition, that the stratum occupied by times the diameter of the earth. The rate of in- the penetration of two fluids of different densities, flexion is proportional to the tangent of obliquity, graduates in refractive intensity more slowly at its and to the difference of the refractive power of the boundaries, and most rapidly in the middle. Or to

METEOROLOGY. *361 Meteor- borrow the elucidation of geometry, if the successive apartment, is often frozen so hard, as to require to be Meteor0, 0 °gy- densities be denoted by ordinates, their summits will cut with a hatchet. The whole of the inside of their l°gy'"■’■‘v-*-’ form a line of double curvature, having consequent- hut becomes lined with a thick crust of ice ; and, if ly a point of contrary flexure. This principle may they happen for an instant to open a window, the be sound, though we can perceive no cogent reason moisture of the confined air is immediately precipiwhy the curve of intermediate refraction should be tated in the form of a shower of snow. As the frost convex or concave, or should combine both sorts of continues to penetrate deeper, the rocks are heard incurvation. But admitting this double curvature at a distance to split with loud explosions. The sleep to be a constituent law, it will very satisfactorily ex- of death seems now to wrap up the scene in utter plain the phenomena. The refraction will be the and oblivious ruin. same, as if the light had traversed an uniform me“ At length the sun reappears above the horizon ; dium bounded by a surface of that reverted cur- but his languid beams rather betray ihe wide waste, vature, the convex portion diverging, and the con- than brighten the prospect. By degrees, however, cave portion converging the parallel rays. The the further progress of the frost is checked. In the different effects are exhibited in fig. 12; the distant month of May, the famished inmates venture to leave object O is viewed in its true position by the pencil their hut, in quest of fish on the margin of the sea. that arrives at O ; it is seen inverted at I, by the As the sun acquires elevation, his power is greatly rays which enter at n ; the rays which fall on r make increased. The snow gradually wastes away—the it appear again erect at A. This explication is cer- ice dissolves apace—and vast fragments of it, detachtainly very plausible, and may probably approximate ed from the cliffs, and undermined beneath, precipito the truth. But though much has been already tate themselves on the shores with the noise and crash achieved, the subject of irregular refraction needs of thunder. The ocean is now unbound, and its icy to be revised and still more closely investigated. dome broken up with tremendous rupture. The enSeveral interesting objects in meteorology remain to ormous fields of ice, thus set afloat, are, by the viobe discussed. Regarding the Aurora Borealis, Lu- lence of winds and currents, again dissevered and minous Arches, and Aerolites, we had a variety of dispersed. new remarks and calculations to offer, but we must “ Before the end of June, the shoals of ice in the rather abruptly close this imperfect article. In illus- Arctic seas are commonly divided, scattered, and tration of the general principles, we only subjoin de- dissipated. But the atmosphere is then almost conscriptions of the seasons of the Arctic and Torrid tinually damp, and loaded with vapour. At this seaZones, from the Edinburgh Review, from Hamilton’s son of the year, a dense fog generally covers the surAccount of Hindostan, and from Edwards’s West face of the sea, of a milder temperature, indeed, than Indiesthe frost smoke, yet produced by the inversion of the same cause. The lower stratum of air, as it suc1. Climate of the Arctic Regions. cessively touches the colder body of water, becomes Seasons in « It begins to snow as early as August, and the *reen and. wh0le ground is covered, to the depth of two or three chilled, and thence disposed to deposit its moisture. Such thick fogs, with mere gleams of clear weather, feet, before the month of October. Along the shores infesting the northern seas during the greater part and the bays, the fresh water, poured from rivulets, or of the summer, render their navigation extremely drained from the thawing of former collections of dangerous. In the course of the month of July, the snow, becomes quickly converted into solid ice. As superficial water is at last brought to an equilibrium the cold augments, the air deposits its moisture, in of temperature with the air, and the sun now shines the form of a fog, which freezes into a fine gossamer out with a bright and dazzling radiance. For some netting, or spicular icicles, dispersed through the at- days before the close of the summer, such excessive mosphere, and extremely minute, that might seem heat is accumulated in the bays and sheltered spots, to pierce and excoriate the skin. The hoar frost that the tar and pitch are sometimes melted, and run settles profusely, in fantastic clusters, on every pro- down the ship’s sides.” minence. The whole surface of the sea steams like a limekiln; an appearance, called the frost-smoke, 2. Climate of Bengal. caused, as in other instances of the production of va“ In the beginning of April, and sometimes ear-Seasons m pour, by the water’s being still relatively warmer her, particularly in the south-eastern quarter of Benthan the incumbent air. At length the dispersion of gal, there are frequent storms of thunder, lightning, the mist, and consequent clearness of the atmosphere, wind, and rain, from the north-west quarter, which announce, that the upper stratum of the sea itself happen more frequently towards the close of the day has become cooled to the same standard; a sheet of than at any other time. These squalls moderate the ice spreads quickly over the smooth expanse, and of- heat, and continue until the setting in of the periodical ten gains the thickness of an inch in a single night. rains, which generally commence in the beginning of 3 he darkness of a prolonged winter now broods im- June. If the rains break up early in September, the penetrably over the frozen continent. The wretch- weather is intensely hot, and the inhabitants, especialed settlers, covered with a load of bear-skins, remain ly the European part, become very sickly. The nacrowded and immured in their hut, every chink of tives, from the result of their own experience, assign which they carefully stop against the piercing exter- six seasons to the year, each containing two months. nal cold ; and, cowering about the stove or the lamp, I he spring and dry season occupy four months, durhey seek to doze away the tedious night. Their ing which the heat progresswely increases, until it slender stock of provisions, though kept in the same becomes almost intolerable, even to those born in 10

M E T E O R O L O G Y. 362* its medium, near the coast, may be stated at about Meteorology. Meteor- the country. In the middle districts it is lessened 80 °, , ology. by occasional thunder-storms, named north-westers; “ The nights at this season are transcendently ' and, in the eastern, milder showers of ram are still beautiful. The clearness and brilliancy of the heavens, more frequent, and refresh the atmosphere. « The scorched inhabitants are at length relieved the serenity of the air, and the soft tranquillity in which nature reposes, contribute to harmonize the by the rainy season, which in general commences mind, and produce the most calm and delightful sennearly at the same time throughout the whole pro- sations. The moon too in these climates displays vince. During the first two months the rain is heavy far greater radiance than in Europe. The smallest and continual. In this period an interval of many print is legible by her light, and in the moon’s absuccessive days is rare, and the rain pours with such sence her function is not ill supplied by the brightforce and perseverance, that three, lour, and even ness of the milky-way, and by that glorious planet five inches of water have been known to fall in a Venus, which appears here like a little moon, and single day. In the two following months the inter- glitters with so refulgent a beam as to cast a shade missions are more frequent, and of longer duration, from trees, buildings, and other objects. ra.*m & .Eruff-ty WB.Z'izarj'

363

MEXICO, Mexico.

or

As the Encyclopaedia contains a very accurate narrative of the early history of Mexico, drawn from the best sources, we have no occasion to make any remarks on that part of this subject. We could, indeed, add but little to it, because no documents have been discovered since the period at which that abstract was drawn up, except a few hieroglyphical remains, which rather illustrate the policy, than the history of the country, under the Aztec monarchs. New sources But the growth of Mexico since it was first subof informa- dued by Spain, its increase in population, in cultivation • tion, and in wealth, have been laid before the public in such a luminous and authentic form by Baron Humboldt, as to merit both the attention and the gratitude of the European world. We have also been furnished with much information regarding the present state of this interesting country, of the mode in which its government is conducted, of the productions of the soil, of its facilities of improvement, and of the character and condition of its inhabitants, in the Memorials of the Deputies who w ere chosen members of the Cortes that was assembled at Cadiz. Many of them, which have been printed in Spain, give information which had escaped the notice even of the indefatigable Humboldt. The latitudes and longitudes of the most remarkable stations had not till lately been accurately ascertained, but on that subject abundant and certain documents have now been obtained. Statistical accounts of the political and territorial divisions of the population, of the revenue, the produce of the mines, the exportable surplus from agriculture, the expences of the government, the nature and number of its armed forces, and many other points, have also come to the knowledge of the European public. From these various new sources we have abstracted the view we now lay before our readers of the present condition of the most extensive community in the western world. Extent and Before delineating the boundaries of Mexico, or Boundaries. New Spain, it is necessary to premise, that those boundaries have been the subject of serious discussion between the crown of Spain and the government of the United States of America, though now adjusted by a recent treaty. The eastern boundary of Mexico begins in the Bay of Honduras, and including the peninsula of Yucatan within its limits, crosses to the Lake Terminos, and then due south to Tonaloa, to the eastward of the port of Tehuantepec in the South Sea. This line divides it from the kingdom of Guatimala. From Lake Terminos, northward, the Gulf of Mexico forms the boundary to the river Mexicana, in west longitude 92° 30', from thence it is divided from Louisiana by a line drawn through the river Sabina, till it meets the Natchitoches or Red River, in latitude 35° north ; from that point, by a line to the sources of the Rio Grande, or, as it is called more usually, Rio Bravo del Norte, supposed to be in lativol. v. PART II.

NEW

SPAIN.

tude 40° north. From thence its limits are an ima- Mexico, g inary line drawn to Port San Francisco, otherwise Port Sir Francis Drake, in the Pacific Ocean, in latitude 37® 30' north. The Pacific Ocean is the western boundary from Port San Francisco to Tonala, in the Bay of Tehuantepee, where it joins Guatimala. As the more extensive part of this vast country is very thinly inhabited, and almost exclusively by unreclaimed or half reclaimed Indians (though Spain may consider it among her dominions, and in her negotiations with the American States, may successfully contend for the ownership), it can scarcely be said to belong to any other power than those rude tribes, who use it, rather as hunting grounds, than as permanent occupations. If Mexico be compared with the United States, it will be found to contain nearly the same extent of peopled country. The great mass of the population, within the States, is planted on a narrow strip of land, along the shores of the Atlantic Ocean, whilst that of Mexico is concentrated principally on the table-land on which the capital is built. The exterior country of each, the northern provinces of Mexico, and the western division of the States, are alike thinly peopled, but with this material difference, in Mexico the country most thickly peopled is the most healthy, and most fertile ; whilst in the States, the country but recently begun to be settled exceeds the more ancient territory, in the salubrity of climate, and productiveness of soil. The whole surface of Mexico is nearly 120,000 pace ofthfc square leagues, of which about one-half in extent. Country, and by tar the most considerable in every other view, is situated in what is called the Torrid Zone, though, for reasons which will appear, the climate is much cooler than in the greater part of the other half, which is placed in the temperate zone. The most important part of Mexico is the tableland, which occupies the centre of the viceroyalty. This tract may be considered as the continuation and expansion of the ridges of mountains which are denominated the Andes, which run through the whole extent ot South America, pass through Guatimala, and send forth branches to Honduras and Yucatan. After entering Mexico, it continues its course to the northward, till it terminates on the shores of the Frozen Ocean. In Mexico, however, it expands itself to a great breadth, and without deep intersecting valleys, produces an extensive plain, equal in fertility to any part of the globe, and superior in healthiness to any other between the tropics, except similarly elevated spots. The mean height of this plain is about 7000 feet above the level of the sea. The climate at that elevation is never severely cold, the snow rarely falls, and never continues on the ground, and the severest frosts that are ever felt leave no ice which remains after the break of day. The heat of summer is so tempered by nocturnal rains, and by 3a

MEXICO. 364 Mexico, the breezes which blow almost constantly, that the royalty, where it is of less consequence, the com- Mexico, "■■"^weather is never so oppressively hot as to forbid munication is so much better, that a coach mayk— travelling or labouring in the fields at day light. travel all the way from the capital to the city of Though 7000 feet is the mean height of this plain, Santa Fe, a distance of 440 leagues, with no interyet it abounds with elevations, some of which enter ruption, and with very little risk. As the road to the regions of perpetual snow, and others, whose Acapulco is not passable for wheel carriages, those tops are covered with snow during the greater part commodities which Asia furnishes to the commerce of the year. These masses of snow communicate a of Mexico are conveyed on the backs of mules. refreshing coolness to the atmosphere at all times, Rivers of great extent, and subject to frequent inand in the warmest seasons the melting of them pro- undations, present obstacles which are difficult to duces constant streams, which communicate verdure conquer. Large sums have been destined to conand fertility during their course. On the eastern struct bridges over two of these rivers, the Paside of Mexico, towards Vera Cruz, the elevation is pagallo and the Mescala, but without effect, and most abrupt, and when attained the most uniform. passengers must be conveyed across them on temIn descending from the city of Mexico to the west- porary rafts, made of reeds, which are rendered ward towards Acapulco, the fall is more gradual, but buoyant by having gourds beneath them. These more interrupted by irregular elevations which in- rafts are guided by Indians accustomed to the busitervene, than to the eastward of the city. The north- ness, who swim with one hand, and direct the course ern side of the plain more gradually descends, and of the floating raft with the other. A road has been begun from Vera Cruz to Perote, terminates at a greater distance from the medium level, than either the eastern or the western sides. the place at which the silver and other valuable It is continued to the north-east 500 miles, and to commodities are collected and deposited, till they can the north-west a still greater distance. A high ridge be conveyed to the coast. Already L.600,000 Sterthen separates one side of the viceroyalty from the ling has been expended on it. The cost per mile is other, which is scarcely passable at any point, and about L.7000, in a country where the labour of Individes the two parts of the country as securely as dians, who are principally employed on it, does not cost one-half as much as the wages of labourers in an elevated wall or a fathomless cavern. Although the table-land of Mexico is perhaps the Europe. This road is broad, solid, and of easy most healthy district on the globe, yet the other ascent, and equals the celebrated roads of the Simparts of the viceroyalty, on the borders of the sea, plon and Mount Cenis. Pillars of porphyry are inpartake of the ungenial properties of the torrid zone. tended to be placed along it, which will both indiThe eastern shore is less healthy than the western. cate the distance and the elevation of the spot above The inhabitants of the whole coast from Tabasco to the level of the sea. The question of the population of this viceroyalty Population, the river Mexicana are subject to fluxes and intermittent and bilious fevers, which lessen the enjoy- becomes the more interesting, from the great errors ment, and shorten the duration of human life; and which prevailed on the subject, before the publican though the western shores are less severely, they tion of Humboldt’s Political Essay on the Kingdom are not less frequently visited by the same mala- of New Spain. In the Encyclopaedia the inhabitants are estimated at 2,000,000. Pinkerton, after dies. The eastern and western access to this important discussing various reports and opinions, sums up by plain are both attended with difficulty and fatigue. estimating all the inhabitants of Spanish North AmeThe road from Vera Cruz to Mexico, and from thence rica, including Guatimala (now known to contain to Acapulco, are both impassable for wheel carriages; more than 1,200,000), at about 3,000,000. By an and passengers who cannot travel on foot, or endure actual enumeration made in 1793, in which the rethe fatigue of horses or mules, are conveyed in turns of two intendancies were made to depend on litters, a kind of sedan chair, the long poles of which calculation, it appears that the number of inhabitants are fastened to the sides of two mules, one of which were 4,483,529; but for reasons which appear satisprecedes, and the other follows the carriage. A road, factory, Humboldt contends that they amounted to however, of the most magnificent kind is now con- 5,200,000. The Baron hadpeculiar advantages informstructing from Vera Cruz to the capital; great pro- ing an estimate of the population in 1803, when he was gress has been made in it, and but for the interrup- in Mexico. From the information of the clergy, whose tion caused by the tumults which began in 1810, it registers of births and deaths are accurately kept; would have been completed by this time: it is carry- from the increase in the production of the soil, as ing on in some parts by the sides, in others over the evinced by the tithes, which are strictly exacted; and tops of the mountains, and in one part it crosses a from the proportion of births to deaths, he has framed mountain 10,400 feet above the level of the sea, and his estimate, which, if it does not arrive at accuracy, 3000 feet higher than the spot on which the city of must approximate to it as nearly as the nature of the Mexico stands. Whenever this communication shall case will admit; and if it in any degree errs, it must be completed, it will give a wonderful stimulus to the be in under rather than in over-rating the number agriculture of Mexico, which, for want of roads to of inhabitants. He found the births to be to the convey its surplus produce, cultivates only as much deaths in the proportion of 170 to 100; the births to .ana as is required by the domestic consumption; the number of inhabitants to be 1 to each 17; and and hence, when a year of less than usual fecundity the number of deaths to be 1 in 30; whilst, in occurs, it is exposed to great scarcity, if not to ab- France, which may be considered as the fair average solute famine. To the northern part of the vice- of Europe, the births are to the deaths as 110 to 4

MEXICO. Mexico,

9

100; the births 1 to 28T 0ths of all the inhabitants, and the deaths 1 to Souths. The result of his calculations give 6,500,000 as the population in 1803, being an increase of 25 in tiie 100 in ten years. If the same increase has continued, which there is no reason to doubt, in the year 1813 the population must have advanced to 8,150,000; from that period to the present, 1821, calculating at the increase of 15 per cent, for the eight years, the numbers now would exceed 10,000,000. During part of this period, great internal commotions prevailed, which must have checked the growth of the population, and therefore some allowance must be made for that circumstance. It is very difficult to calculate the effect of such wars as Mexico has entertained; because the mere loss of life forms a less important feature in the estimate, than the effect which is produced by the neglect of cultivation, and the consequent scarcity of subsistence, which tends both to destroy and to prevent life. In stating the presentpopulation of the viceroyalty at 10,000,000, we cannot be in any great error, as the introduction of the practice of vaccination must have had a tendency to correct a malady which previously produced dreadful ravages. In the year 1779. upwards of 9000 persons died of the small-pox in the capital alone, and its effects in other parts of the country were still more fatal. It is but justice to a most public-spirited individual to state, that, by the activity of Thomas Murphy, of an Irish family in Malaga, but who had taken up his residence in Vera Cruz, the virus was brought from the United States to that city, in 1804. The cow-pox appeared in its mildest form; it was communicated to all classes with facility, and even the Indians readily submitted to the operation, though they are usually too stupid to be very careful in adopting remedies to prevent evils not immediately before them. It has now spread through the whole extent of North and South America ; and it is asserted that several of the most savage of the tribes have adopted it. The classes into which the inhabitants of New Classes of Inhabitants. Spain are divided is an object of great importance, when sketching a view of the country; and upon this subject the diligence of Humboldt has furnished us with ample details, which are here presented to the readers in an abridged form. Europeans. The first class is that of the Europeans, who have taken up their residence in Mexico. They are commonly there called Gachupines by the other inhabitants. They generally fill the most lucrative and honourable offices in the state, the courts of law, the boards of revenue, thachurch, and the army; and the greater part of the more opulent merchants are of the same class. They generally assume, even when in no official situation, nor possessed of any considerable property, a degree of importance which is by no means acceptable to those white men who are natives of the country. The Indians, however, look up to this class with great respect, and almost affection, as they see, or suppose they see, in them, protectors from the oppression which the white natives exercise towards them. The whole number of European Spaniards is not estimated at more than 100,000, the far greater part of whom are established in the capi-

365 tal, and the other large towns. They do not con- Mexico, stitute more than l-70th part of the whole population; and, in 1813, were calculated tq be, to the white Americans, only as 1 to 14. They consist principally of males of mature age, the females not being more than 1 in 10 of the whole number. This greater proportion of males in the meridian of life, the stations they occupy, and the superior activity of mind which they have acquired by a European education, gives them an importance in the community very far beyond what their relative numbers alone would confer. The next class to the Europeans is that of the un- Creoles, mixed whites, natives of the country, the descendants of the first adventurers who subdued it, or of others who from time, to time, have emigrated from the European peninsula. As the Spaniards, from having so small a proportion of females, intermarry with the natives, and their offspring thus become Creoles, the disproportion between these two classes of whites is becoming greater daily. In the year 1803, they were calculated, when compared to all the other inhabitants, to be one-fifth of the whole number. They certainly multiply more rapidly than any other class, both from the greater ease of their situations, and because the mixed class, to whom we shall presently attend, are constantly falling into their ranks, and increasing their numbers. After five or six crosses between the whites and the coloured classes, the children become so nearly white, that they are easily reckoned as such; and, where doubts are entertained, the courts, upon proof being exhibited to satisfy them, decree that they are to be considered white men. It is a remarkable fact, the truth of which, however, cannot be doubted, after the pains taken by Humboldt to verify it, that the proportion of females to males is much greater among the Creoles than in any of the other gradations of Mexican population. This is clear in the villages, but not so striking as in the cities, where the proportion is 134 females to 100 males. The Creoles are possessed of almost the whole of the property in Mexico; the richest mines, the most fertile tracks of land, and the most productive plantations, are in their hands; and some of them derive revenues from their estates far exceeding those of the most opulent European nobility. The family of Valenciana, noAv ennobled, exclusive of the rich mine from which the title is derived, enjoyed rents amounting to more than L.90,000 per annum, whilst the produce of the mine, commumbus annis, yielded a nett revenue of L.65,000. Count Regia, proprietor of the rich mine of Biscaina, built, at his own expence, two ships of the line, one of 120 guns, and presented them to the king, and lent him L.200,000, which has never been repaid, from the profits of a new seam of silver he had discovered. But the family of the Marquis of Fagoaga derived the greatest revenue, from the mine of Sombrete, that the history of mining has recorded. The nett produce, in six months, was upwards of L.800,000. Besides these and similar incomes, derived from mining, several of the Creole nobility possess estates on which no mines are worked, that are nevertheless vastly productive. The Duke of Monteleon, the lineal descendant of Cortes,

366 M E X Mexico, enjoys an estate, in the province of Oaxaca, worth more than L.60,000 annually, though it has recently been deprived of some branches of revenue, which have dimini shed it one-half. Though some enormous fortunes, acquired by mining, are transmitted to the descendants of the proprietors, yet there is greater fluctuation in this than in any other species of property. Money, rapidly gained, is generally as rapidly dispersed ; and as the thirst for wealth is never satiated, those who are most successful by one mine, dissipate their riches in exploring others, whose first expence is certain and enormous, whilst the returns are frequently uncertain or trifling. It has not unfrequently happened, that the sinking of a pit, and the attendant works, has cost near L.5,000,000 Sterling, and the work been abandoned without any silver ore being discovered, or any of sufficient richness to pay the expence of separating it from the other substances that it is incorporated with. That class of Creoles who have confined themselves wholly to agricultural operations have generally secured to their families estates of increasing value, and have transmitted that uniform prosperity which neither mining nor commerce are so well fitted to secure* Though the wealth of the country is mostly in the hands of the Creoles, they are far from being all individually rich ; perhaps in no class of society, in no country in the world, do the two extremes of excessive riches and excessive poverty so often meet. The pride of the Creoles, an aristocratic feeling, founded on their complexion, which gives them distinction, prevents them from pursuing those kinds of labour that are deemed degrading to gentlemen. The consequence is, that their poverty is often even greater than that of the Indians, whilst indolence, added to pride, prevents them from following any employment beyond that of the gaming table, or becoming the flatterers of the richer members of their own class. In the tremendous collisions which have recently been experienced in Mexico, the Creoles of this description have been the most energetic leaders, and have drawn into their projects many of the more rich and more successful of the white natives. Whatever of science or learning is cultivated in Mexico is almost exclusively for the benefit and improvement of this class. The University of Mexico, the Schools of Mineralogy and Chemistry, are almost solely filled by pupils from this class of society ; and, as those establishments are extensive, the benefit communicated by them is gradually extending to a larger portion of the community. The greater part of the parochial, and some of the dignified clergy, are prepared for their functions from among the Creoles: some few have filled the episcopal chairs, and some who have followed the profession of law have attained to the dignity of members of the royal audience. Unmixed The Indians form the next class of the Mexican Indians. population ; they are the unmixed descendants of the aboriginal inhabitants. They have generally remained on the same spots which their ancestors occupied, and have followed the occupations they pursued, with very little other change than substituting the Catholic rites in the room of the sanguinary religion that was formerly practised under their native

I C 0. emperors. The districts that were most populous at Mexico, the time of the conquest have, at this day, the greatest proportion of Indian population, whilst in those provinces which were then occupied by savages, in a ruder state, who were mere hunters or fishers, such as New Biscay and Durango, there are scarcely any Indians now to be found. The Indians of Mexico are of a darker colour than those of South America, though they live in a climate of lower temperature. They have more beard, and more hair on other parts of the body, than those of the southern continent. They are almost all of them free from personal deformity. The hunch back, the squinting eye, and lameness in the hands or feet, are unknown among them. Among savage tribes, this exemption from personal deformity has been attributed to their erratic vocation, in which the weak would necessarily perish in their youth ; but the Indians in Mexico have been stationary for three centuries ; they have pursued the common agricultural labours, and in their habits resemble the cultivators of other countries. It is then, perhaps, natural to conclude, that this more perfect form of the human figure is derived from some modification in the constitution that is peculiar to the swarthy race, since it extends also to the Africans and the Asiatics. Whatever the appearance of the moral faculties of the Indians may be at present, it is impossible to estimate them with impartiality, unless we consider some of the circumstances which accompanied their subjection. At the time of* the invasion by Cortes, the whole country was divided into two classes, the aristocracy and their slaves, for such was the condition of the more numerous body. Without contending that the progress of cultivation was very great among the Indians, yet from many facts which have come to our knowledge, we may assume that civilization and knowledge, as far as they had extended, were confined to the higher classes, who preserved and transmitted their acquisitions, in arithmetic, in astronomy, in architecture, and religion, by the hieroglyphical paintings, which were understood only by them. The higher classes perished almost wholly in the contest which ended in the subjugation of their country. The priests, who were the depositaries of science, who resided in colleges around the temples, and who made the astronomical observations which regulated their calendar, were exterminated by the fanaticism of their Catholic conquerors. The Spanish monks burned the hieroglyphic paintings by which knowledge had previously been transmitted from one generation to another. The people were thus plunged in ignorance, and which became so much deeper, from the missionaries being unacquainted with their language, and being therefore unable to substitute new ideas in the room of those the propagation of which they had stopped. The Indian females of the more elevated ranks were disposed to share what property they had secured, by forming alliances with the Spaniards, rather than to commit themselves with their countrymen, thus reduced to poverty and contempt. The rest of the natives consisted only of the indigent race, wrho, under their aristocratic countrymen, had been kept in subjection, and were in total ignorance of what little knowledge existed in

MEXICO. 367 Mexico, the country. They were either the cultivators, the in drunkenness during the remainder. The tribute Mexico, lowest class of artisans, the porters who had been paid by the Indians is a poll-tax on all the males beaccustomed to be treated as beasts of burden, or tween the ages of ten and fifty. It has been frethose numerous beggars, who, when Cortes first vi- quently diminished in the last two hundred years, sited the country, crowded the streets of all the and now varies in different provinces of New Spain, great cities. The few of the chiefs that were left amounting in some to one dollar annually, in others concealed their rank from the conquerors, and with to nearly two. The Indians are, hoivever, exempt no other decorations than the lowest of their tribe, from all other imposts, even the Alcavala, which were satisfied in receiving from them that voluntary every other subject of Spain pays on the sale of all homage which custom had long sanctioned. productions. The capitation tax was intended to It is impossible to judge what faculties may be favour, not oppress the Indians, but by the knavery developed in a nation by seeing only the remains of of their chiefs, probably in collusion with the white its lowest class, and those in a state of subjection inhabitants, it is made an engine of considerable exand oppression. Humboldt has said of the Indians tortion. The Indians, however, pay ecclesiastical of Mexico, “ I know no race of men who appear dues, which, in their narrow circumstances, press more destitute of imagination. When an Indian at- hard on them, but from their superstitious attachtains a certain degree of civilization, he displays a ment to the showy ceremonies of the church, are great faculty of apprehension, a judicious mind, a borne with more cheerfulness than the tribute. Tire natural logic, and a partial disposition to subtilize court of Spain, in order to benefit the Indians, have or seize the finest differences in the comparison of recently appointed an order of magistrates (Subdeobjects. He reasons coolly and orderly, but never legados), whose office it is to protect them. These manifests that versatility of imagination, that glow of were mostly chosen from the white natives, and the sentiment, and that creative and animating art, which institution, instead of benefiting, appears to have characterize the nations of the south of Europe, and depressed still more the unfortunate race, who enseveral tribes of African negros.” The Indians ge- deavour, but generally in vain, to obtain redress nerally reside in their own towns and villages, where from the extortions of the Subdelegados, by appeals they are governed by their chiefs, who, if the laws to their priests, who, being often of their own race, enacted by Spain were all obeyed in her colonies, have not sufficient power to protect them against the would have the rank and privileges of Castilian no- white Creoles. The Indians consider the Creoles as bility. It is now difficult to distinguish the chief their oppressors, and the Europeans as their profrom the others of his tribe, as they affect, in their tectors ; and hence the animosity between the two dress and mode of living, to exhibit an appearance classes of white inhabitants becomes inflamed, whilst of poverty, under which they may, with less ob- the poor Indians, from the scarcity of Europeans servation from the intendants, practise oppression near their villages, and from not understanding their on those they govern. They are the collectors language, can scarcely even obtain that relief which, of the capitation tax which is paid by the Indians, if their complaints were made known with facility, which they levy most rigidly, and at the same time would sometimes be administered to them. Though extort considerable sums for their own emolument. the Indians have appeared patient under suffering, These caciques now display the same vulgarity of and excessively indolent, yet when their vengeful manners, and the same want of civilization, as the passions have been roused, they have discovered most lower Indians, and appear to excel them in nothing vehement feelings, and have shown themselves capbut that chicanery by which they extort from them able of strenuous exertions. The same Indian who a portion of their gains. The caciques being recog- has patiently suffered himself to be whipped at the nized as nobles, might pursue the law, or enter the door of the church, for some ecclesiastical offence, army, and arrive at distinction ; but few have chosen and has meekly thanked the reverend executioner for these professions ; many of them, however, become the correction he has administered, has appeared priests, and the females of this cast are almost the cunning, active, impetuous, and cruel, when acting sole occupiers of the convents. with his brethren in the late popular disturbances. The Indians are acknowledged by the laws to be The number of unmixed Indians in the whole of freemen; and though, when in their own towns, New Spain may be estimated at near 3,000,000; they are governed by their native chiefs, and are and, by every document, it is clearly proved, that treated as in a state of pupilage, they may leave they have of late rapidly increased, though not with those towns, take up their abodes where there is no a rapidity equal to that which the Creoles and mixcacique, and dispose of their labour to the best ad- ed casts have exhibited. vantage. In this manner some families have estabThe class of mixtures from the primitive races Mixed lished themselves in places not under the native go- has, in process of time, become a very important Classes, vernors, and have acquired considerable wealth. portion of the population of New Spain. In a The great check to improvement with this race is country where rank depends more on the comtheir fondness for ardent spirits, particularly one plexion than on the endowments, which, in other kind, called Pulque, which is distilled from the countries, confer distinction, it is not surprising, Agave, 'with which they intoxicate themselves ha- that almost every shade has its limits defined by bitually, if they can procure it. As the price of terms, which, though apparently only expressing the tliis spirit is very low, whenever they work free colour, do in reality express the rank of the indivifrom their chiefs, they can procure sufficient by dual. As the terms used frequently occur in all labouring a small portion of their time, to indulge books relating to the Spanish colonies, an explana-

368 M E X Mexico, tion of them may not be useless. The son of a N — white, whether Creole or European, by an Indian female, is called Mestizo. His colour is almost a pure white, and his skin is of a peculiar transparency. The small hands and feet, and a certain obliquity of the eyes, are more frequent indications of the mixture of Indian blood than the nature of the hair. If a Mestisa marry a white man, the second generation scarcely differs in any thing from the European race. They are generally accounted of a more mild character than the mulattoes descended from whites and negresses, who are distinguished by the violence of their passions, and the singular volubility of their tongues. The issue of negros by Indian females bear in Mexico the singular name of Chinos, or Chinese, in common language; though by the laws they are denominated Zamhos. The term Zambo, however, is generally applied to the descendants of a negro and female mulatto, or a negro and a female Chinese. Another gradation, called Zambo prieto, or blackish Zambo, is the offspring of a negro and female Zamba. From the union of a white man and a mulatto w,oman the class of Quarterons is derived. When a female Quarteron marries a white man, the children are denominated Quinteron. The issue of a white man by a female Quinteron is considered as white, and is elevated to the highest rank. The number of these mixed casts is generally estimated to be equal to that of the pure Indian race. They are none of them in a state of slavery, but form the class from whence the lower kinds of traders, manufacturers, servants, sailors, and labourers, are furnished. They constitute the middle and lower ranks of society, in general, though some of them rise to wealth and knowledge, and thus, by connecting themselves with those a cast whiter, prepare their offspring for the highest municipal stations. The number of negros, whether slaves or freemen, is very inconsiderable in Mexico; of the 74,000 negros which are annually drawn from Africa for the Spanish colonies, not more than 100 are landed on the shores of Mexico, and these are generally employed in the hot countries on the coast, which are equally destructive of the lives of the Indians from the interior, and the newly imported natives of Europe. But though there are few or no negro slaves in Mexico, a species of slave kidnapping is carried on, if possible more disgraceful than that on the coast of Africa. The missionary monks make incursions into the territories of those unreclaimed Indians, whom they call Indios bravos, because they have not, like those of the missions, Indios reducidos, learned to make the sign of the cross. Impelled by a mixture of fanaticism and cupidity, they surprise all they can, even old men, women, and children. The prisoners taken in this petty warfare, which is constantly carried on in the provincias internas on the frontiers of New Spain, are not indeed numerous. The tribe that is most commonly subject to these incursions is called Mecos. When seized, they are generally conveyed as prisoners to the house of correction in the capital, where their ferocity is often increased by solitude and despair. When conducted to Vera Cruz, Havana, or other warm climates, they speedily perish,

I c o. as all the savages of the mountains do when com- Mexico, polled to labour in the most sultry of the tropical«» regions. These Mecos sometimes escape from their confinement, or their masters, and commit the most barbarous cruelties before they can be subdued. The whole system is most disgraceful, and the more from religioh being made the pretext for continuing it. Notwithstanding the considerable population of Commerce. Mexico, and its extensive agriculture, its external commerce is but insignificant. This may arise in a great degree from the impolitic and unjust restrictions laid on it by the European metropolis, but in a greater degree from the varieties of the soil and climate, being such as to produce all that man can want; and from the population being so thinly planted as to render the value of the surplus production scarcely equal to the expence of conveyance from the place of its growth to any other place of consumption. On the eastern side of Mexico the whole external commerce is restricted to the ports of Vera Cruz, Campeche, Huasacualco, Tampico, and Santander; and if the restrictions did not legally exist, it would be almost impossible for any other port to trade to a considerable extent, from the shallowness of their water, and the obstructions of their bars. As the trade of Vera Cruz is, however, of exclusive importance, the consideration of that must be principally attended to. The harbour, if it deserves the name, is protected from all but northerly winds, by a cluster of islands which surround it, and is rather a strait between the main land and the island Gallega, on which the castle of St Juan de Uloa stands, than a secure port. The depth of water at the entrance is four fathoms, and at the moorings not more than four and a half. The ships are secured by having their cables fastened to ring-bolts fixed in the castle of St Juan. The tide rises but once in twenty-four hours, and varies from one to three feet in its rise. When a violent gale from the north occurs, the vessels are no longer safe, but must seek security by running to sea, and if the gale does not endure so long as to drive them on the shore of Campeche, when it is over they may return to their moorings. The nature of this port is an impediment to commerce, but none better has been found by which a connection with the interior can be maintained. The city of Vera Cruz is peculiarly unhealthy, and equally dreaded by the sailors from Europe and the natives of Mexico, who descend from the table-land to convey the goods to and from the shore. The merchants, too, among whom are some of very great capital, prefer residing at Xalapa, to breathing the pestiferous air'of the hot region, and thus the climate, as well as the physical imperfections of the port, acts as an impediment, to commerce. Considered as a single port, and viewing the circumstances of its position, the trade of Vera Cruz is enormous, but as the only point of commerce for a rich country of eight or ten millions of inhabitants, it is very small. The importations consist principally of the superior kind of clothing which are required by the higher classes, of wine and brandy, of paper andiron. These amount together to about L.4,500,000 Sterling. Besides, there are imported from the other Spa-

MEXICO. 369 Mexico, nish settlements in America various articles, but prin- of justice in all commercial affairs, which they decide Mexico, cipally cocoa and bees-wax, to the amount of about with promptitude and equity, without the intervenL.350,000, thus making the whole imports somewhat tion of lawyers. As a corporation they enjoy conless than L.5,000,000. The exports consist almost siderable wealth, which is expended in promoting the wholly of the precious metals, of cochineal, and in- security of the port, and in improving the roads that digo. Some sugar is exported, and it is an increasing lead to it. For these purposes a tax is levied on all production, which, when the new road is completed, imports and exports, which is expended under their must be very considerably augmented. Flour has direction. The other foreign trade of Mexico, if also of late been exported to the islands, especially that can be called a foreign trade which is carried on to Cuba, and this commerce must also increase as the with a colony of the same sovereign, is from Acapulco in the Pacific Ocean, to Manilla. Acapulco is roads are improved. one of the best harbours in the world ; it has two enAverage Value of Exportations from Vera Cruz com- trances, and is completely sheltered by the island at its mouth, which separates these entrances. The puted in British Sterling. anchorage is good in from ten to twenty-five fathom To Spain. water. Though the immediate vicinity of this port Cochineal, L.760,000 is a barren soil, and the situation at present unIndigo, 725,000 healthy, yet in process of time it must become a Sugar, 325,000 place of considerable importance. There are few Gold and silver, coined and inhabitants except at the fair, which is held on the wrought, 3,950,000 • arrival of the ship from India, when both the town Various small articles, amountand the neighbouring villages are crowded with visiting together to 56,000 ants. This whole trade is carried on by a single L.5,816,000 ship called the galleon. It is usually from 1200 to 1500 tons burden, and is commanded by an officer To the other Settlements in America. of the royal navy. It sails from Manilla the latter Flour and other provisions, L.l 37,000 end of July or beginning of A ugust, loaded with calicoes, muslins, silks, spices, drugs, and the other vaGold and silver, 843,000 Various small articles, amountluable productions of India and China. The value ing together to 50,000 of this cargo is limited by law to five hundred thouL. 1,030,000 sand dollars, but it generally amounts to treble that sum. The merchants of Mexico and Lima are inteL.6,846,000 rested in the expedition ; but many of the ecclesiastical corporations invest part of their funds in the The commerce is carried on by about two hun- speculation. The arrival of the galleon draws to dred and fifty vessels of different sizes, which annu- Acapulco numerous purchasers, who are frequently ally load and unload here. The greater part of the disappointed, by finding, on their arrival, that, by a indigo, and some part of the cochineal, are the pro- combination among some of the great capitalists of ducts of Guatimala, brought to Vera Cruz for the Mexico, the whole cargo has been disposed of in a convenience of transporting to Europe. These are single lot. The returns from Acapulco to Manilla conveyed partly by land and partly by the river are made almost wholly in coined silver, and amount Huasacualco, and merely pass through Vera Cruz; to between one million and a million and a half of and in estimating, the exports ought to be deducted dollars. Some iron is sent, a little cochineal, oil, from the amount: allowing for these one million, the cocoa, and wine, but these are of small amount. whole exported productions of this vast country, in- Many passengers go by this annual ship to Manilla, dependent of gold and silver, does not exceed in value especially the missionary monks who are destined to in the whole year what is exported from Great Bri- make proselytes on the Philippine Islands. A small tain weekly. portion of commerce is conducted between Acapulco Humboldt states the number of persons employed and the ports of Guyaquil and Lima. The vessels in the mines not to exceed 30,000, or one in two from the south bring Peruvian wine, oil, copper, and hundred of the whole population; the exportable cocoa, and return with a few woollen goods manuproduce of whose labour amounts to L.4,793,000; factured at Queretaro, some cochineal, and a quanwhilst the surplus produce of all the rest of the in- tity of contraband East India articles. Though this habitants does not amount to much more than one- passage from south to north is easily accomplished, fifth of that sum. The United States of America, yet in the imperfect state of the art of navigation with a population nearly the same as Mexico, having wdiich is practised on the coasts of the Pacific Ocean, about as many negro slaves as New Spain has of In- it generally requires more weeks to return than it dians, and cultivating a less grateful soil, have been does days to arrive. Acapulco, in the hands of a enabled to export surplus native productions to power with capital and industry, might command the fourteen times the amount, and Great Britain, with whole of these two valuable branches of the fishery only half as many more inhabitants, exports sixty from which the English and the Anglo-Americans times as much. have derived such great advantages. The spermaThe commerce of Vera Cruz is under the direction ceti whales are caught on the very coasts, and the of a body called the Consulado, consisting of the black whales are abundant a few degrees to the most eminent merchants. This body acts as a court northward; but though the Mexicans have constantly

MEXICO. 370 Mexico, before their eyes the benefits which their rivals draw ocean. In the more northern provinces it is pro- Mexico, from this source, not a single vessel has ever been duced at a lower elevation. The increase of wheat, equipped by them for either of these fisheries. The in most parts of Europe, is calculated to be about trade in furs on the north-west coast of America, and five for one on the average of different countries ; the conveyance of them to China, belongs to this but in Mexico, at the proper elevation, it generally part of the world, from whence traders would find yields from thirty to forty for one, and at Cholula, advantages that would defy any competition from it has exceeded seventy or eighty for one. The those who are obliged to coast the whole of North great impediment to the cultivation of wheat and and South America on both sides the continent, be- other grains of the cerealia species, is the want of fore they can reach the station where their trade moisture. Long continued droughts frequently destroy the hopes of the cultivator. In no part of the commences. Agriculture, The view taken of the face of the country in New world does artificial irrigation so abundantly repay and its Pro- Spain must have shown that it is capable of produc- the expence that is incurred; but, owing to want of ducts. ing an the fruits which can be found in the various skill in conducting the rivulets which the melting of climates and countries of the globe. In the account the snows form, and perhaps more to the want of of its agriculture we must, however, enumerate and capital, this important operation is either omitted or describe not what it is capable of producing, but negligently executed. On some farms, where the what it actually does produce. Indian corn or maize system of irrigation is followed, they water the wheat is the most important to the natives of any aliment twice ; first, when it shoots up in January, and again which is known. It is cultivated in Mexico from the in March, when the ear begins to be formed. By warmest regions up to the height of 9000 feet above leaving the land flooded for some weeks at this latter the level of the ocean. Its fecundity, in favourable period, the tenacious soil imbibes such a quantity of years, in fertile soils, and in proper situations, is won- moisture, as enables it to resist the deleterious effects derful. Its increase in these circumstances has been of the long droughts, and the burning sun which it ascertained to be from three to four hundred times subsequently endures. In these irrigated farms, as the quantity of the seed that was sown. The gene- in Egypt, the seed is sown when the flooding comral average of the increase is stated to be from 130 mences, and this is thought to destroy many of those to 150 for one. When it returns no more than seventy weeds which would be injurious to the crop. The for one, the cultivation is thought to be not worth tillering of the wheat plants in Mexico, as well as continuing. It is used for food in a variety of ways; the number of grains in each ear, is most astonishthe green ear is boiled or roasted, and eaten in that ing. In the best lands, and in the most favourable state, when it is not unlike green pease. When ripe seasons, we have seldom seen more than six or seven it is bruised to a flour for bread, or for thickening shoots from each root that produced ears, and those the soups of the inferior casts. It is used on the de- ears average from sixty to seventy grains in each. clivity of the mountains, above the height in which In Zelaya, a cultivator took, at random, from a field the sugar-cane will flourish, to make an ardent spi- of wheat forty plants, and Humboldt found from forty rit, in the use of which the Indians indulge to great to seventy stalks from each plant. The grains were excess. By expressing the juice from the stalk a su- counted, and were found in different ears to be from gar is formed, but the sugar-cane having of late been 120 to 160. The soil of the wheat lands is generalmuch extended in its growth, has in a great measure ly composed of tenacious clay, mixed with basaltes superseded this application of the maize. Though and amygdaloids, which, though difficult to pulverise, maize is sometimes a most abundant crop, yet there such land, when brought into proper culture, is best are seasons when, in some districts, it almost wholly adapted for the growth of that plant. Rye and barfails, and the inhabitants feel the severest want. The ley, as they resist a greater degree of cold than price of this grain regulates that of almost every wheat, are grown on higher elevations. The proother commodity in Mexico. When either a pre- duce is not much greater than on the lands of some mature frost, or the absence of rain, destroys the of the best cultivators in England. Oats are scarceharvest, both human beings and die domesticated ly cultivated in Mexico, where, as in Spain, the animals suffer the severest misery. It is, however, a horses are fed on barley, though sometimes maize is slight alleviation of their sufferings, that the scarcity used for that purpose. seldom visits both the warmer and the colder regions Potatoes, for which Europe is indebted to Amein the same year ; but the badness of the roads, and rica, are much cultivated in Mexico. It is not an the great distance from one district to another, pre- indigenous plant, but was transported from the mounvents the surplus of one part from relieving the dis- tainous parts of Peru, at a very early period after tress of another to any effectual extent. Wheat is the conquest of that country. It has been generally one of the presents which the old continent has asserted, that the potatoe is a spontaneous producconferred on the new. The first introduction of it tion of the Andes, but Humboldt and his companion, into Mexico was in the year 1530, when a negro Bonpland, though diligently herborizing from the slave of Cortez found three or four grains of it among fifth degree of north to the twelfth of south latitude, some of the rice. These were sown, and the pro- found none in a wild state with nutritive roots. duce distributed to be again sown, till it has become They, however, were led to suppose, that in the general. The highest and the lowest regions in Andes of Chili they are indigenous. In Mexico, Mexico are equally unfit for the cultivation of wheat. they are cultivated on the highest inhabited lands. It is only grown in the southern provinces, at the The natives preserve them for several years, by exelevation of 2650 to 4250 feet above the level of the posing them first to the frost and then to the heat of 8

MEXICO. Mexico, the sun. They grow to a large size ; some of them great property of keeping a very long time, and is Mexico, were found by Humboldt to measure from twelve to not liable to be attacked by worms, or the other inthirteen inches in diameter, and to be better tasted sects which, in warm climates, are so destructive of than any that are grown on our continent. other bread. The cultivation of the manioc requires The banana is, to the inhabitants of warm regions, more care than the banana, and in some measure rewhat grain is to the people of temperate and cold sembles that of potatoes; the slips are planted, and countries ; but infinitely more beneficial, in as much in seven or eight months the harvest may be gaas on the same portion of land, and with the same thered. quantity oflabour, a much greater quantity of nutritive Almost every species of fruit is produced in Mexisustenance may be produced. Within eight months co, and the esculent vegetables of every climate are after planting, the banana begins to form clusters, and profusely scattered ; some of these are indigenous, these may be gathered in the tenth or eleventh month but some of the best, as the various cabbages, the of their growth. When the stalk is cut, some other turnip, the carrot, and pease, have been introduced shoots from it, about two-thirds the height of the pa- by the European settlers, and have multiplied till rent plant, are left standing, and they bear fruit in they have become as abundant as the native producabout three months after. Thus a plantation is per- tions. I he jealousy of Spain has prevented vines petuated, without any other subsequent labour than and olives from being extensively cultivated; but that of cutting the stalks on which the fruit has when they are attended to, they yield abundance of ripened, and occasionally digging and dressing round fruit. The court of Spain, instigated by the comthe roots. The ripe fruit of the banana resembles, mercial jealousy of its merchants and agriculturists, in appearance, the bean pod, but is far larger. has always discouraged the cultivation of the vine, When exposed to the sun, it is dried in the same the olive, the mulberry, and of hemp and flax. They manner as the figs of the south of Europe. The are generally prohibited in the colonies; but it is skin then becomes black, and emits a smell resem- difficult to execute the law with rigid strictness. bling that of a smoked bam, and in that state be- Whilst Humboldt was in Mexico, an order was recomes an object of considerable internal traffic. Its ceived from Madrid, to root out all the vines in the taste is agreeable, and it is considered to be very northern part of the viceroyalty, because the merwholesome, whilst the ripe fruit, in its crude state, chants of Cadiz complained that the vent for their is found difficult of digestion by newly arrived Euro- wines and brandies had diminished ; but the viceroy peans. The green fruit is frequently cut into slices would not obey the order, judging that, notwithand dried in the sun, and being thus rendered friable, standing the great patience of the inhabitants, they is reduced to powder, and serves the purposes of would not submit to have their property laid waste, flour in many culinary preparations. The facility merely to gratify the cupidity of the European mowith which this food is produced, gives it an advan- nopolists. tage over every other alimentary substance in the After sketching those productions which constisame climate. Even the bread fruit, though it af- tute the food of man, we may notice those which fords food through almost the whole year, may be furnish his beverages. The most important of destroyed by an enemy, and cannot be quickly re- these is called the Maguey, a species of cactus, or produced, whilst the banana, if destroyed, may be- opuntia. The plants are set about five feet asunder come available again for subsistence in a few months in rows. When the head of the plant throws forth by planting suckers. The produce of the banana, as the bundle of central leaves, they are cut off, and a compared to that of wheat, is estimated as 133 to 1, hole is scooped in the stalk, which is covered with and to potatoes as 44- to 1. The facility with which the leaves. In this hollow the plant seems to depofood can thus be obtained in the hot regions, neces- sit all the juice, which, without the excision, would sarily creates great indolence in the inhabitants. go to form the flowers. It is a real vegetable spring, With two days slight labour in each week, a man running for two or three months, and which may be may gain sufficient subsistence to support a family; emptied twice or thrice in the day. The plants are and yet such is the love of their native spots with the very productive; a single one will yield 150 quarts inhabitants of the mountains, that though a single of honey (for so in this state it is called) annually. frost may destroy the labour of the year, none of It is placed in a situation to ferment, an operation them will emigrate to the thinly inhabited plains, which takes place in a few days, when it becomes fit where nature showers her gifts with such profusion. to drink, and is called Pulque. It is said in its taste In the same temperature which favours the culti- to resemble cider, but has a most disgusting smell, vation of the banana, the manioc, or cassava, is which, for a long time, prevents Europeans from grown, and, like it, is abundantly productive of ali- tasting it. When accustomed to it, however, people ment. There are two kinds of manioc; one, called become very fond of it, and account it healthy and the sweet, may be eaten without injury, the other, nutritive. The cultivation of the plant which prothe bitter, is a very active poison in its crude state ; duces this liquor is of vast importance, both to the both are made into bread, but the latter is most ge- public revenue and to the comfort of individuals. nerally used for that purpose. The root is first It pays a duty on its introduction to the cities, and dried, it is then grated, and the juice carefully ex- in the year 1793, the amount of the tax produced at pressed, by which means a tolerably palatable and the gates of the cities of Mexico, Toluca, and Puewholesome flour is produced. It is generally made bla, amounted to near L. 200,000 Sterling. By disinto thin cakes, not unlike the oat-cakes eaten by tillation of pulque, a very intoxicating kind of brandy the labourers in the west of Yorkshire. It has the is produced, which, though prohibited by the laws, VOL. v. PART II, 3B

MEXICO. 372 Mexico, in order to favour the brandies of Spain, is of very merchants had fixed for cochineal, formed a combi- Mexico, 'extensive consumption. Ihe plant from which the nation, and destroyed at once both the insects and pulque is made has other valuable purposes to which the plants on which they were reared. There are it is adapted. It is used in making ropes, and even two species of cochineal, called Granajina and Grapaper ; it furnishes the inhabitants with a thread, cal- na silvestre, one the wild, the other, if we may be alled pita; its juice is used as a caustic to wounds; lowed the term, the domesticated kind. The wild is and its prickles serve the Indians for needles and found in several parts of the world, but though pains have been taken to introduce the better kind in mapins. , . , . ,, The soil of some parts of Mexico is admirably ny countries, they have hitherto been unsuccessful. adapted to the cultivation of tobacco, and perhaps The wild cochineal is covered with a cottony down, in no portion of the globe is the consumption of that which prevents the rings on its back from being viplant greater. It has been always a subject of taxa- sible ; the fine is distinguished by being covered with tion in every part of the Spanish dominions; but, in a mealy kind of white powder, which does not con1764, the royal monopoly, or farming of jt, was in- ceal the wrinkles on its back. Whether these two troduced to this viceroyalty. Not only is it now ne- insects are of the same species is still a subject of cessary to obtain special permission to plant tobacco, doubt among the most acute entomologists. It is, but the whole growth must be carried to the royal however, certain, that they are bred on different farm, and paid for at a price to be fixed by the head plants, but yet it is ascertained that they couple toof the department. It can only be raised in a dis- gether. The nopal trees, on which the fine cochineal is trict of four or five square leagues, and revenue officers traverse the country in all directions for the bred, is of the cactus tribe, known by the name of purpose of rooting up all the plants that are illegally the prickly tuna; but this variety has its fruit smallcultivated. The consequence of these impolitic re- er, of an insipid taste, and white, instead of red. gulations has naturally tended to check production ; When designed to rear the cochineal insect, it is not and as sufficient is not raised for the consumption, sutt’ered to grow to more than two feet in height. the deficiency is supplied from provinces, where the They are planted on land well cleared of weeds, and of other trees, which are usually burnt on the ground. expence of obtaining it is greater. Sugar and rum are produced in New Spain, and, The ground is cleaned twice in each year, and, if as before stated, want only good means of intercourse this be accurately executed, and the soil favourable, to increase most rapidly. As the cultivation of su- in the third year they become fit to rear the insects. gar is well known, it is needless here to give a de- In the months of April or May, the proprietors, calscription of it; but we cannot omit the striking re- led Nopaleros, purchase branches or joints of the sult of a calculation made by Humboldt, viz. that all Tuna de Castillia, with the young cochineals recentthe sugar consumed in France, amounting to about ly hatched upon them. These branches, though se18,000 tons, might be produced on seven leagues parated from their roots, preserve their moisture for square of land in the equinoctial regions. Cotton is several months. The Indians, who collect the young grown in Mexico, but to an extent too limited to ad- insects, keep them about three weeks, either in their mit of any considerable exportation; the far greater huts or in caverns, where the branches to which they part is appropriated to domestic consumption, and are attached are suspended under cover; after which the whole sent to Spain is not valued at more than they are exposed to the open air. The growth of L.25,000. The quantity is not sufficient to supply these insects is rapid, and, in August and September, New Spain, and it draws what its wants require from the mother cochineal have eggs not hatched, and Guatimala and New Granada. Some valuable drugs are big with eggs a second time. Their laying conare produced in Mexico, as sarsaparilla, jalap, vanil- tinues from thirteen to fifteen days. In about four la, snakeroot, and some others, which, however im- months after placing the cochineals on the nopals, portant to the healing art, are of too little conse- the first harvest may be collected in the warmest siquence to the agriculture or the commerce of the tuations, and in those a little cooler, though the incountry to deserve detailed notices. Of dyeing drugs sect is equally valuable, somewdiat later. Much care indigo is produced, but in very limited quantities, is necessary in keeping the nopals clean, and Indian and scarcely more than sufficient for the few domes- women sit down many hours to a single plant to brush tic manufactories. Cochineal is, however, a product them with the tail of the squirrel. The produce of exclusively hitherto Mexican, and deserves some at- the trees varies considerably; in some districts a tention. It was certainly cultivated long before A- pound of the semilla, sown in October, will yield a merica was known to Europeans. The cultivation harvest of twelve pounds in January, and leave sufof cochineal is at present limited to the intendancy ficient of the eggs to continue the produce till May, of Oaxaca. Not more than fifty years ago, it was in which time they sometimes collect thirty-six produced in the province of Yucatan ; but on a sin- pounds more. In other districts, where they are gle night, all the nopals, on which the cochineal in- occasionally exposed to slight frosts, though great sect lives, were cut down, and the breed consequent- care is taken to cover the plants at night, they scarcely exterminated. The Indians assert, that this was ly gather more than twelve pounds for each pound done by the government, to increase the price of the that has been sown. At the time of harvest, the instock on hand, and to confine the whole growth to sects are killed, sometimes by throwing them into the province of Misteca, in Oaxaca, where it is chief- boiling water, sometimes by placing them in heaps ly produced. The whites, on the other hand, aver exposed to the burning sun, and sometimes in a kind that the Indians, irritated at the low price which the of vapour bath. This last method is deemed the best, I

M E X Mexico- as it preserves the whitish powder on the body of the ■■'v'"-*' insect, which gives it an increased value in the estimation of the merchants at Vera Cruz and Cadiz. There are rigid laws to prevent the adulteration of this valuable commodity, but they are found to be insufficient wholly to stop the practice. It is, however, generally believed, that the mixture of other substances, where it is grown, is trifling in comparison with the additions made to it at Vera Cruz, and in the ports of Spain. The whole quantity exported from Mexico, communibus annis, was about 2,500,000 pounds, which, before the heavy duties imposed on it, both in Mexico and Spain, was not estimated at more than L.600,000. The quantity produced has greatly diminished of late years. The Indians have discovered, that other commodities pay them better for the labour of cultivating, and hence, in the last ten years, the produce is lessened nearly one half. The dyers of Europe have, however, found a substitute, so that, with the reduced supply, there has been no sensible increase in the price. Lac lake, a commodity from India, has in a great measure superseded it, both in England and France, and will probably, at no distant period, do so in other countries. Bees-wax is an article of considerable importance in a country where the pomp of religious worship requires a great supply of wax-tapers. In the churches of the cities, and even of the Indian villages, the consumption is enormous. The indigenous bee of New Spain differs from that of Europe in having no sting, or at least none of sufficient strength to inflict the slightest wound. They are known by the name Angelitos, little angels. Their wax is abundant, but it is more difficult to bleach than that which is produced by the bee of Europe. Some of the Indians have farms of several hundred hives. Mexico does not produce sufficient wax for its own consumption, but obtains the requisite quantity from Cuba, where both the European bee and the American are carefully bred for the sake of the wax. Besides the productions of agriculture, which have been enumerated, Mexico is abundantly supplied with animal wealth. When first discovered, the inhabitants had few or no domesticated animals. Europe has, however, furnished them with a few, which have become the rudiments of immense herds; they now cover many of the plains, and furnish to their inhabitants an ample supply of animal food. The tallow of their oxen suffices for all the manufactories of soap and candles ; oil being too valuable to be used for the former of these purposes. Hides were formerly exported from Mexico to Spain, but, of late, the population and their wealth has so increased, that they are all converted into leather for their own consumption. Sheep have never been encouraged, though the pastures are admirably adapted for their feed and propagation. The wool, which what few they have produce, is consumed in their manufactories; and as cotton cloths are better suited for the greater part of Mexico than woollen, we may attribute the neglect of sheep to that circumstance. Turkies and ducks were originally sent to Europe from America, which, in return, received the common fowls of the Old Continent; but the common goose of Europe is not

I C O.

373 Mexico.

yet to be found in any of the Spanish settlements in America. Having enumerated the most important agricultural productions of Mexico, we must state, that though the principal branch of industry which has contributed to enrich the country, agriculture is still by no means in that state of activity to which it is capable of arriving. The indolence natural to man, when all his positive wants can be supplied with little exertion, must act as an impediment to the progress of agriculture, as well as of all the other arts. The want of roads, canals, and navigable rivers, whilst it continues, is an insuperable bar to great improvements ; and, when to these are added the restrictions imposed by an impolitic government, we are rather surprised at the progress Mexico has made, than that she has made no greater. Amidst other impediments to her im. provement, the want of capital is a most important one. It is so in every country, and peculiarly so here. The capitals acquired by mining have frequently been afterwards employed to give activity to agriculture, the only purpose to which capital can be beneficially applied in a country where little or no commerce exists. The convents, and other ecclesiastical communities, possess but little landed property. Their real wealth consisting of the accumulations from tithes, and other clerical sources, has been generally dedicated to agricultural improvements. The capital of the clerical bodies, amounting to more than L.10,000,000 Sterling, is lent out, in small sums, on interest, to proprietors of land, and secured by mortgages on their estates. The benefit conferred by such a capital applied to the agriculture,—a capital gradually increasing, must be very considerable. Such was the impression of its importance on the spot, that when, under the ministry of Godoy, orders were transmitted to Mexico to send these funds to Europe, it caused general murmurs ; and though the viceroy had not sufficient firmness to defer, or to demonstrate the impolicy of executing the decree, but attempted to enforce it, the difficulty was so great, that in two years only the small sum of L.250,000 could be collected. One legal evil is felt in Mexico, as it is in Spain. The greater portion of the land, especially the larger tracts of it, is granted in what is called Mayorazgos, a species of entail which prevents alienation, or the division of land into smaller allotments, such as would be suitable for the purchase and the improvement of the class of small capitalists. There is something very striking in the reports Minerals, which circulate in Europe of the wealth of Mexico and Produce and Peru; but perhaps the mineral wealth, which oft^cMines* those countries furnish, has produced less effect on them than on the nations of the Old Continent, whose activity and intelligence has been forcibly stimulated1 by it. The mineral riches of Peru have been to no extent applied to sustain agricultural industry, which has languished in consequence. If Peru has not declined within the last century, she has certainly not advanced much in population or industry, in productions or in civilization. In Mexico, where the riches from the mines have stimulated agriculture, the progress has been considerable, more especially within the last forty years, in every thing that

374 M E X Mexico, can conduce to the greatness or the prosperity of a country. The whole quantity of gold produced in Mexico, on an average of several years, does not amount to more than 7000 marks, or 5G,000 ounces, and is worth about L.200,000 Sterling. This quantity is collected, either by washing the sands in the torrents which descend from the mountains, from some mines of small produce in the intendancy of Oaxaca, or from the silver mines, in which it is found combined with that metal. The silver which the mines of Mexico distribute over the globe is by far the most important part of what has recently been put in circulation. In a series of years at the beginning of the present century, according to the books of revenue by which the tax called the fifth is paid, the mean produce has been 22,170,000 piastres ; and, estimating that portion on which the duty was evaded at somewhat less than a seventh part, we may consider the total at least as 25,000,000 ; worth, at the average rate of silver in Europe, L.5,480,000 Sterling. This quantity exceeds the whole silver that is produced from all the other parts of America, whether belonging to Spain or Portugal. The whole of the silver mines of Mexico are in the table-land, and most of them are at a great depth from the surface. They have been calculated to amount to nearly three thousand, and are divided into 450 districts, each governed by a council of the mines. It will be easily supposed, that, of these S000 mines, some must be very inconsiderable, and some very unproductive, when it is ascertained that half of the silver raised in New Spain is the product of only three districts, viz. Guanaxuato, Catorce, and Zaccatecas. In fact, it appears that the whole of the mines do not pay an adequate profit for the capital that is employed in excavating and working them. On some of these undertakings the whole sum that is embarked is totally lost, and the works are abandoned, On others the product is for a long time much less than the expenditure; but they are continued with the hope that the proprietors will be so lucky as to meet with a rich vein of ore, that will repay them by immense wealth for the expence, trouble, and anxiety they have endured. Some of the mines, however, prove so enormously lucrative, that, like any other gambling, the adventurers are encouraged to continue the game as long as their money or their credit remains. It is of great importance to the mines of Mexico, C " ’nts' that, unlike those of South America, they are found in regions of moderate elevation and temperature. The greater portion of the most valuable are at the height of from 6000 to 10,000 feet above the level ot the ocean, and, consequently, exempt from that severity of cold which is found so injurious in Peru. In consequence of the country round the mines being thus in healthy and fruitful elevations, the great number of labourers which they require easily find subsistence; and whenever an extensive mine flourishes, the concourse of people which it collects creates a market for food, to supply which, the uncultivated fields around them are brought to afford the requisite supplies; and towns spring up, and land becomes fruitful, where a few years before

I c o. only uncultivated deserts were to be seen. It is Mexico, from the healthiness of the climate in which the mines are situated, and from the fertility of the land around them, that Mexico has been enabled to extract so great a quantity of mineral wealth, rather than to the richness of the ore, or to the accessibility of the veins. The mines of silver at Obergeberge, in Saxony, which are by no means excessively beneficial to the proprietors, wfill show how much the value of the mines of Mexico depend on the cheap* ness of labour, arising from the ease with which subsistence is obtained in a fruitful country. In each quintal of the Saxon ore that is extracted, they have commonly found ten ounces of silver, and in fortunate periods it has averaged fifteen ounces. The mean produce of the mine of Guanaxuato is four ounces in each quintal of ore. In other mines, the produce is from two to three ounces per quintal, and in few does it exceed five. The average is calculated by Humboldt at between three and four ounces. The mines of Mexico are much deeper than those of Saxony. Valenciana has a shaft of J 680 feet from whence to bring up the ore, whereas the richest of the Saxon mines, Himmelsfurst, is only 1100 feet in depth. The fruitfulness of the country around the mines is not the sole cause of their superiority, for though, as we have seen, the ore is by no means rich, yet the breadth of the veins in which it is found is highly favourable to the facility of raising it. A mine in Saxony, where the vein is six feet in extent, is considered as a prodigy, but the (veto, madre), mother vein of Guanaxuato, is from 130 to 145 feet in extent. The Saxon mine has been worked in length about 700 yards, whilst the broader one in Mexico has proceeded already to double that distance. The extent and length of other veins are of the same extraordinary dimensions, and the smaller veins, which in Europe would be worked, are left in total neglect. The use of machinery to diminish animal labour is but feebly adopted, and the execution of those few machines they construct is so bad, that they are scarcely of any benefit. As the ore is brought from the mine on the backs of men, it is necessary that the descent should be made very capacious. That of the mine Valenciana is 1680 feet in perpendicular depth, and 90 feet in circumference. This pit is dug in the solid rock, it is beautifully walled, and, when completed, having cost a million dollars, may be considered one of the greatest and boldest undertakings in the history even of Mexican mining. This mine has the peculiar property of being free from water, a circumstance of vast importance, since other mines, equally rich, have been abandoned, because the proprietors have not been enabled to exclude the water, where the steam engine is not yet adopted. In the year 1760, the country around this mine was a perfect desert. M. Obregon, a Spaniard, with a vehement passion for mining, with a small capital, but with the confidence of richer men who assisted him, began to excavate. In 1766, though he had got to the depth of 260 feet, the value of the produce was less than the current expences. He then entered into partnership with a small trader, named Otero, who had some ready money. They continued, to pursue

M E X Mexico, their operations, with confidence in the result, till, in 1771, they came to masses of sulphuretted silver, mixed with native and red silver. From 1771 to 1804, the mine has constantly yielded a gross produce of L.583,000 Sterling; and in some of the most profitable years, the two proprietors have each shared the enormous sum of L.250,000. The spot where these operations commenced was occupied by a few wild goats, and in ten years it became a considerable town, with seven or eight thousand inhabitants, surrounded with cultivated and highly productive fields. As the miners have gone deeper for the ore, the expences of raising it have been increased; but the quality has so improved, that the net profit to the proprietors has continued the same. The expence of working this mine amounts annually to L.190,000 Sterling; three-fourths of which are for wages to the labourers, and the remainder for gunpowder, steel, iron, wood, leather, and tools of various kinds. The cost of powder for blasting the rocks amounts to L.16,000 annually. The number of individuals employed is about 3000. The principal manager receives a salary of L.2500, and has under him several overseers, and nine master miners. These head men visit daily the subterraneous operations, on the backs of men, who have a kind of saddle for the purpose, and are called little horses (cavalitos). The whole of the labour of the mines is performed by freemen; no slaves or convicts are employed; and the stories circulated in Europe of criminals and smugglers being condemned to labour in the mines are totally without foundation. The labour, though voluntary, is very severe, and the people are stimulated to perform it only by being paid, not by the time occupied, but by the quantity of work that is performed. The ore is carried solely by men, who are so accustomed to this kind of labour, that they remain with a load from 240 to 370 pounds on their backs six hours at a time, during which they ascend many thousand steps in the pits, in a temperature from 71° to 77° of Fahrenheit. They proceed in files of fifty or sixty, among whom are some boys of ten or twelve years old, and some men more than sixty, each of them loaded according to his own estimation of his strength. In ascending the stairs they throw the body forward, and support themselves with a staff about a foot long. They walk in a zig-zag direction, having found by experience that their respiration is thereby less impeded. The muscular strength acquired by these men must be prodigious, since, without any burden, a person not accustomed to it, feels intolerably fatigued from ascending and descending so many thousand steps. The weight of each load is agreed on before the ascent is begun ; regular registers of the quantity carried by each individual is entered by accountants ; and the quantity of ore brought from the mine is easily ascertained to the satisfaction of all parties. Each digger of the ore is calculated to loosen as much from the vein as three of the porters can carry away. This operation is performed with a kind of iron crow, with a sharpened steel point, that requires perpetual repointing; for which purpose small moveable forges are placed in various parts of the mines. Though the workmen are almost naked, and are closely

I C O 375 watched and carefully searched, they sometimes con- Mexico, trive to embezzle considerable portions of the richest minerals, by concealing them in their hair, under their arms, and other parts of the body. These thefts are often detected, and a register is kept of what is thus seized from the depredators. In the mine of Valenciana it amounted, in fourteen years, to the value of L. 36,000 Sterling. Though the mine of Valenciana has produced the most uniform profit to its owners, that of Sombrete, in the intendancy of Zaccatecas, has produced the largest profit in a short period. A portion of this mine, called (vela negro), the black vein, yielded to its proprietors, the family of the Marquis del Apartado, upwards of L. 800,000 Sterling within six months; and though nothing approaching to that profit has since been gained, it still holds its rank among the mines of the first class. The mines of Catorce have been begun but recently to be excavated. This district was first explored by an accurate and adventurous miner, in 1778. He vras fortunate enough, at the first trial, to hit on what is called the great vein (veto grande), and in a very short time gained more than half a million dollars by it. The great riches of the vein, however, were not developed till it had been carried 350 feet down, whence, to the depth of 550 feet, they found the metals called colorades, a mixture of silver and gold, and abundance of native silver. At that period the expence of working scarcely exceeded 80,000 dollars, whilst the value of the metals amounted to 1,200,000. This vein is of the extraordinary breadth of 130 feet. It continued highly productive till 1798, when it had reached a depth of 1574 feet; since that time the mineral has become less valuable, the metales colorades have disappeared, and pyritous and coppery minerals are found with the silver. It is, however, still worked to considerable profit, but not to the extraordinary advantage which was yielded between 1778 and 1798. When the ore is brought to the surface, there are two modes of separating the minerals from the substances in which they are incorporated; smelting and amalgamation. The first of these processes is so familiar, as to need no description, being nearly the same as is applied to all other minerals. It is used in Mexico in not more than one-third of the mines; and if the uncertainty of obtaining sufficient mercury was removed, and the price of that commodity properly reduced, it would be practised in still fewer, especially as the wood required for firing is becoming scarce on the ridge of the Cordilleras, the most populous of the mining countries. As the scarcity of wood increases, the abolition of the process of smelting wull become an object of considerable importance* to the various manufactories that are carried on in that district. The progress of amalgamation depends on the quantity of mercury that can be conveyed to the mines, and as a naval war intercepts the supply, that process is necessarily greater in time of peace. In the process of amalgamation, the first step is to reduce the ore to a fine powder, which is done by well constructed mills. As the adhesion of the particles to the quicksilver depends on their fineness, this opera-

376 * M E X Mexico, tion is more attended to than any other. The pows —— v dered ore is moistened, and in that state, called schlich, is carried to the court of amalgamation, an open space paved with hard flag stones. The floor is covered with the schlich, and levelled so as to form a heap from 60 to pO feet in length, and about two feet in thickness. The materials for amalgamation are then added to it, and consist of muriate of soda or common salt, sulphate of iron and copper, lime and vegetable ashes. The salt is first applied, the quantity of which varies with its purity, which is very various, sometimes amounting to twenty, and sometimes to not more than four pounds, for every quintal of the mineral paste. The mineral, thus mixed with the salt, is left for several days till the whole of the latter is supposed to be dissolved and equally distributed. If the metal is then deemed too warm, or in a state of oxidation, and charged either with sulphates of iron and copper, which rapidly decompose in the air with muriate of silver, lime is added to cool the mass. But if the paste is thought too cold, as it will be, if it contains sulphate of lead or pyrites, which decompose with difficulty in humid air, sulphate of iron and copper are added, which are known to heat the composition. This is thought necessary, and it is only considered to be well prepared when a sensation of heat is felt by holding it in the hand. After leaving the mixture some days to repose, the mercury is begun to be incorporated with it. The quantity of mercury is fixed by the estimation made of the quantity of silver wdiich the composition will yield, and they usually add to the mixture about six times the weight of quicksilver, which they expect will be produced in pure silver. Shortly after the addition of the mercury, sulphate of iron and copper are administered to it again, if too cold, or lime, if too hot. During the space of three, four, or even five months, its temperature is watched, and corrected by the application of the lime, or the sulphates, as either one or the other may be required to make the mercury act on the silver. During the whole of this part of the operation, the action is favoured, and the union increased, by stirring the materials. This is usually done, by causing twenty or thirty horses, or mules, to run round for several hours, or by setting workmen to tread the mass, who go for whole days barefooted in this metallic mud. When it is known by the appearance of the mass, of which those accustomed to the process are accurate judges, that the mercury has united with all the particles of the silver contained in the mixture, the metallic muds are thrown into large vats of wood or stone. Small mills, provided with sails, placed perpendicularly, turn round in those vats. A stream passes through them, by which the earthy and oxidated parts are carried away, whilst the mercury and the amalgam remain in the bottom of the vat. The amalgam remaining at the bottom of the vat is then, in some measure, discharged of the mercury, by pressing it through sacks. The amalgam is then moulded into a pyramidical form, and, in that state, goes through the process of distillation, by which the remainder of the mercury is evaporated, afterwards condensed, and preserved for future use. In this process, however, a loss of mer-

I c o. cury is suffered, generally from an ounce and a half Mexico, to an ounce and three quarters for each ounce of ■ silver that is produced. Our business here is to describe the process, not to point out its errors, or to show that the same effect might be produced in a less expensive, and far more expeditious manner. Among so many thousand mines, the owners of which are the most independent of mankind, there are to be found many deviations from this mode of amalgamation, but we have described that mostly followed, without examining, with chemical criticism, the effect which would be produced if the mass of schlich was placed in a court paved with iron and copper instead of stone, or if the process of stirring would be more beneficially performed with ploughs of iron or copper, than by the feet of horses, mules, or men. This has been urged in Mexico, and will probably be adopted as soon as the benefit of it is clearly understood. The method of amalgamation has been the cause of the increase of the Mexican mines. By it, all the silver in the ore may be extracted from it, and now the residuum, which, under the former process, used to be thrown away as of no value, is made to produce a quantity of silver, that amply repays the expence of collecting it. Since this mode has been adopted, the consideration of the quantity of mercury that can be procured becomes of vast importance. The present consumption of Mexico requires a supply of 16,000 quintals, which, in time of peace, is supplied from Europe. The mine of Almaden, in Spain, would have furnished this quantity, but for an inundation, which, for want of timely attention, destroyed the works. The mine of Huancavelica, from similar carelessness, had ceased to be worked, or produced but little. In these circumstances, the court of Madrid made a contract with the Austrian government, for a supply to be furnished from the mines of Istria. The mercury from Germany either w’as, or was supposed to be, less pure than that of Almaden. The government of Spain have unwisely made quicksilver the subject of a royal monopoly, and an article of revenue. The price is thus raised, and the supply uncertain. Intrigues are carried on by the miners at the viceroyal court of Mexico, either to obtain a large quantity, or a greater proportion of Spanish than German quicksilver; and these smaller proprietors, who either have no access to the court, or have no means of creating an influence there, are compelled to be satisfied with a small portion, and that portion what is deemed of the inferior quality. The power of the viceroy to distribute quicksilver whenever it has been scarce, has been the means of great oppression on many miners, and a source of wealth, scandalously enormous, to the viceroys. The price at which the court of Madrid supplies its provinces with quicksilver is of vast importance, both to their and her own prosperity; whereas the revenue drawn from the monopoly is impolitic in its principle, corrupt in its practice, and small in its amount. The court has, indeed, gradually reduced the monopoly price from 82 to 41 dollars the quintal, a price, perhaps, as low as the consumers could obtain it on an average of years, if a competition was permitted. The great evil now arises from the favouritism by which the interests of the

M E X Mexico, small proprietors are sacrificed to those of the greater. It is also no inconsiderable evil, that a supply proceeding from only one source, and that not the most unexceptionable, must be very uncertain, and often very scanty. In New Spain, the indications of mercury are very visible. Cinnabar is found in many parts, and sulphureted mercury in others; but these mines have engaged little attention, and the monopoly of the government has acted as a bar to their being effectually investigated. Although the mines of Mexico are all of them the property of individuals, or of voluntary partnerships, yet they have a bond of union in a tribunal or corporation, which makes laws to regulate the rights created by the mining system, and (though they can only recommend) to institute improvements in the various processes. When, at the early period of the occupation of Mexico, the Spaniards first began their mining operations, a mixture of laws, some Spanish, some German, and some Flemish, emanated from the court of the Emperor Charles the Fifth. Their contradictory nature induced the proprietors of mines to form a board, which at first was a voluntary union, but has since been recognized as a legal corporation, endowed with considerable revenues, and invested with extensive authority. The board called Tribunal General de la Mineria de Nueva Espana is composed of a director, two deputies from the provincial councils of miners, an assessor, two consultors, and a judge. They are chosen by the thirtyseven provincial councils of the miners, and have two deputies constantly .residing at Madrid to protect their interests at the seat of government. They direct the studies in the College of the Mines, and select from thence students, who are sent for the purpose of communicating instruction to the chief towns in the mining districts. The influence of these students is, however, confined; they have no power to direct the most beneficial processes; and the jealousy of the miners regarding their liberty prevents the full benefit which might be derived from this diffusion of men of scientific acquirements. The institution of the tribunal, especially under the organization it has received within the last forty years, has been of great benefit to the proprietors of mines. It has preserved a degree of public spirit, disseminated the knowledge of new facts and improvements, and created a community of feeling among all those connected with the important affairs of the mines. This board is endowed with an annual income of more than L.40,000 Sterling, arising from the signorage which is divided between it and the crown, on all the gold and silver coined at the royal mints. The revenue was designed to support the School of Mines, and to be lent out to feebler proprietors, to assist their operations. It has been useful, to some extent, in both ways; but the court of Madrid, in the state of poverty which has compelled it to lay its grasp on money wherever it could be found, has extorted, under pretence of a gratuity and a loan, near L.700,000, which has absorbed more than its accumulation, and now one-half of its revenue is destined to pay tho interest of money which has been borrowed to lend to the government. The taxes levied on the mines are weighty, and

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377

produce a revenue, which, though much evaded, Mexico, is still very large. Formerly the king received a fifth of the produce of all mines, and though this tax has been reduced to half that proportion, it still retains its ancient name el quinto. The quinto is now \0per cent.; another duty called the 1 per cent. is added ; besides which, for coinage and seniorage, including the share of the tribunal of mines, 2g per cent, is paid; making together a charge on the proprietors of 13£ per cent, on the amount of the gold or silver that is extracted. Considerable intricacy exists on this subject. When the minerals contain, as they frequently do, a mixture of gold and silver, this gives rise to endless discussions, and opens a field for oppression, for bribery, for chicane and corruption, which ultimately tends to enrich the larger proprietors in some degree, and the officers of the revenue in a much greater. Besides the more precious metals, gold and silver, which we have thus far exclusively viewed, Mexico abounds in the other mineral riches, which equally contribute to the improvement and enjoyments of man in the social state. Iron is found in great abundance in the intendancies of Valladolid, Zaccatecas, and Guadalaxara, and especially in the more northern provinces. The increased production of these mines is always suspended by a return of peace, however much they may have yielded in the preceding periods of war. The difference in price in war and peace, both in iron and steel, is enormous. The former has sometimes risen from 20 to 240 the quintal, and the latter, which commonly in peace was sold for L.3, has been known in war to be worth L.50. During the early part of the wars occasioned by the French Revolution, the tribunal of mines advanced money to the iron miners, but the works were suspended by the peace of Amiens. When war recommenced, these mines were resumed, but very imperfectly, and the tribunal having lent its capital to the government, could offer them no assistance. Copper is found in a native state in the intendancy of Valladolid, and some in Guanaxuato. Tin is found in mines, but is principally extracted from the earth washed down in the deep ravines. A combination of these two metals, both of which were known to the ancient Mexicans, though they had not discovered iron, was used to form their tools and weapons. By an examination of one of their implements by some French chemists, it was ascertained that they had the art of tempering these two metals, so as to render them equal in effective utility to iron, or even steel. Lead is found, but the mines are very little worked. Zinc is found under the form of a brown and black blende in several veins. Antimony is produced in Catorce; arsenic, combined with sulphur, has been extracted from the minerals found in Zimapan. Neither cobalt nor manganese has yet been discovered in Mexico ; and both these minerals, though the latter has been discovered in Cuba, appear to be less abundant in the equinoctial regions of America than in the temperate climates of the ancient continent. To complete our view of the minerals of New Spain, it is necessary to state, that coal mines have been discovered in several parts of the

MEXICO.

378 Mexico.

northern provinces^ and one is slightly worked near the sources of Rio Sabina. Rock salt is also found in many parts ; and, if necessary, more might be obtained. It is principally required for the process of amalgamation in the silver mines, as the Indians scarcely use it with their food, but adhere to their ancient practice of applying the Chili as the sole condiment to their food. Ilevenues. New Spain, unlike the colonies of the other European nations, not only produces a revenue adequate to the expence of its own government, but a surplus to assist the mother country. Owing to the very impolitic arrangements of the government, the expences of its collection amount to more than onefourth of the gross sum of the revenue. The taxes levied on the mines are the most productive ; these have been before described, and amount, on an average of years, to . 3,516,000 dollars. Net profit of the mints, 1,500,000 Profit on the sale of mercury, 536,000 5,552,000 The monopoly of tobacco, aftet- deducting the expence of the cost of the leaf tobacco, is 594,000 dollars ; and that of manufacturing it into snuff and segars, which is 1,285,000 dollars, produces4,500,000 dollars; but this particular branch of revenue is reserved to the crown, and not mixed with the general produce of the taxes, but remitted to Spain in a distinct head of account. The alcavala, or duty on sales, from which the Indians are exempted, produces net about 3,000,000. The Indian capitation tax yields 1,300,000. The duty on the fermented liquor made from the Agava, called Pulque, produces 800,000. The Almoharifazgo, or duties on foreign trade, is 500,000. There are some other articles, which we shall presently enumerate ; but in the mean time we must mention, that the king has a monopoly of fighting cocks, and of snoxv from the mountains, which, whimsical as it may appear, are both thereby subjected to taxation, and this tax, though trifling, is found very irritating to those who love a barbarous amusement, and to those who wish to enjoy cool liquors under a burning sun. A7e£ Revenue of Neva Spain. Tax on minerals, profit on coining and mercury, . . . 5,552,000 Monopoly of tobacco, . . 4,500,000 Alcavala, . . . 3,000,000 Indian tribute, or capitation tax, ] ,300,000 Duty on pulque, . . . 800,000 Almoharifazgo, or tax on foreign commerce, 500,000 Monopoly of cock fighting, . 45,000 Ditto of snow, . . . 60,000 Profit on Papal indulgencies, . 270,000 Post-office, . . . 250,000 Monopoly of gunpowder, . 150,000 Clerical first fruits, . . 100,000 Profit on playing cards and stamped paper, 200,000 Dollars,

16,727,000

By some accounts, it appears, that, when the gross Mexico. revenue of New Spain amounted to 20,000,000, the expences of collecting it were more than 6,000,000, and, consequently, the net sum paid into the treasury was less than 14,000,000. It should, however, be remarked, that, in the expences of collecting are included the salaries of the viceroy, of the intendants of the provinces, of the different secretaries and clerks, and the pensions of governors retired from office, and all the expences, except those of the military kind, and those of the courts of justice. The revenue of 16,727,000 dollars first pays the military,naval, and judiciary charges; the repairs of fortifications, arsenals, hospitals, and other royal works, 5,700,000 dollars. The other settlements in America, whose revenues fall short of their expenditure, draw from the treasury of Mexico the requisite sums. Florida, Porto Rico, Cuba, Manilla, and St Domingo, draw from New Spain about 3,500,000 dollars annually; and the remainder, about 7,000,000^ dollars, or L. 1,700,000 Sterling, is remitted to the court of Madrid. From the gross amount of the revenue is, however, to be deducted the salary of the Viceroy. This is the annual sum of 60,000 dollars, which, large as it appears, is of itself inadequate to the state he is compelled to assume, and the expences he consequently incurs. He cannot move without his guards on horseback, most splendidly accoutred; he is constantly served by pages of honour; is forbidden by etiquette from permitting any but his own family to sit at table with him ; and preserves constantly more of the state of a monarch than is retained by most of the sovereigns of Europe. He has few honourable and fair means of accumulating a fortune, and hence the few who have filled the office with a desire to benefit the community have retired from the dignity with their original mediocrity. On the other hand, their extensive power has been used by many to enrich themselves, and that to a degree that might satisfy cupidity itself. Some individuals have returned to Spain, after filling the office of Viceroy for a few years, with fortunes of from L. 300,000 to half a million Sterling. The distribution of mercury, the patronage of lucrative places, the dispensing rank in the militia, the recommendation of individuals to the titles of count or marquis, the opening the ports to favour the commercial speculations of individuals, and the winking at contraband transactions; all these ways may be, and often have been, used by Viceroys to the injury of the public, and the pecuniary advantage of their own families. In order to escape inquiry at home, it is necessary that he should have a most intrepid assessor with him, and a powerful party in the court of Madrid ; and, with these assistants, there is no knowing the bounds to which his corruptions may be extended. None of the officers of government have any effectual control over the Viceroy. The court of royal audience, a kind of privy council, and the supreme court of justice, may indeed protest against his acts, and transmit their protests to the Council of the Indies in Spain, but it must obey his orders,

379 MEXICO. Mexico. Dollars. Mexico, without creating delay, how much soever it may con80,000 Bishop of Monterey, demn them. 20,000 Yucatan, Armed An army is constantly kept up in Mexico of about 18,000 — Oaxaca, Force. 10,000 regular troops, who are recruited, disciplin6,000 Sonora, ed, and regimented, within the viceroyalty. Of these about 6000 are in Mexico proper, and the reThe inequality of income seen in the bishopricks mainder on the various stations on the northern frontier, or in the provincias internets. Of the for- extends also to the curas or parochial clergy, some of mer 1000 are cavalry, 150 artillery, and the remain- whom have incomes amounting to 15,000 dollars, der infantry. The regular troops on the frontier whilst others have scarcely 100. The religious provinces are mostly light troops, with some flying houses are in many instances rich, but not from their artillery. Besides these regulars, called tropas ve- possessions in land, so much as from their accumulateranasy a body of militia (milicias provinciates') of tions which have been improved by lending on mortgar 22,200 men is constantly maintained; of these ges to the proprietors of lands at high interest. I he 11,000 are infantry, and the same number of caval- revenues of the church being derived almost solely ry. The Indians on the banks of the Rio del Norte from land, in the form of tithes, have partaken of carry on a constant war with the Spaniards. The that advance which the increase of cultivation has troops on that frontier are, in consequence, in a produced. The difference in the value of tithes taken state of perpetual activity. They are all natives at two following periods, will show both the increase of the country. They are tall and robust moun- in cultivation, and in the revenues of the church. taineers, admirably mounted, and equally accustom- Produce of tithes from 1771 t° 1780, 13,357,157 ed to the extremes of heat and cold. They are con- dollars,—from 1781 to 1790, 18,353,821 dollars. The proportion between the regular and secular stantly under arms, generally on horseback, and perform long marches through deserts with no other clergy is not ascertained, but the whole of the reliprovision than a little ground maize, which they mix gious of both orders, including nuns, monks, layat any brook with water, and thus subsist without diffi- brothers, probationers, choristers, and servants, do culty. It is reported by those who have seen these not exceed 14,000 persons. The political division of New Spain is into twelve Intendancies troops, that it would be difficult to find in Europe and any cavalry of greater activity in its movements, of intendancies, to which maybe added three provincesces Provingreater impetuosity in battle, or capable of enduring which, though under its government, are removed * greater privations. As these would be the first to a considerable distance, and are rather dependtroops to be encountered, in case hostilities between ant upon it, because no other plan of ruling them has the United States and Spain should lead to an inva- yet been adopted, than from any design that they sion of New Spain by the former, they are entitled should ultimately be considered a part of it. The to this brief notice. Almost the whole frontier to- intendancies are, wards the United States is by nature nearly impeneOaxaca Mexico trable. Arid savannas, resembling the deserts of Merida Puebla Tartary, separate the provinces of Mexico from the Vera Cruz Guanaxuato United States. Beyond the 32d degree of north San Luis Potosi Valladolid latitude the extent of the deserts and the nature of Durango Guadalaxara the soil afford security against an invading enemy. Sonora. Zaccatecas To the southward, between the Mississippi and Rio del Norte, several rivers intervene. The ground towards the shore is swampy, and these swamps filled After a sketch of these, the provinces of New with impenetrable thickets. On this point the two Mexico, Old California, and New California, will be countries at present approach nearest to each other; noticed. The intendancy of Mexico merits the first consi-Intendancy the American post Fort Clayborn is distant from the Spanish presidio of Nacodoches only about sixty deration, on account of its being the most populous, of Mexico, the most rich, and as containing the capital of the leagues. Although the religious establishment in Spain is kingdom, and the seat of the government. Its Ecclesiastical Esta- most profusely endowed, that example has not been extent is 5927 square leagues, and its inhabitants, to 1,511,800. blishments. followed in Mexico to so considerable an extent. by the census of 1803, amounted 0 The numbers of the clergy bear a proportion nearer It extends from 16° 34' to 21 57' of north laditude. to the Protestant than to the Catholic countries of On its western side a portion of the province is Europe. The Archbishop of Mexico is the metro- washed by the South Sea from Acapulco to Zacatupolitan, and has under him eight bishops, the differ- la, a distance of 270 miles, but no part of it approaches nearer than 35 miles to the Eastern Ocean. ences in whose revenues are very striking. The intendancy being both on the high and the low land, must partake of the climate of each, but more Bishops and their Revenues. than two-thirds of it is mountainous, and consequentDollars. ly cool and healthy ; whilst that part which borders Archbishop of Mexico, 130,000 on the South Sea, has all the heat and insalubrity Bishop of La Puebla, 110,000 usually encountered in similar circumstances. Only Valladolid, 100,000 the highest peak of one of its mountains enters the ■ — Guadalaxara, 90,000 region of perpetual snow; and no other summit but ■ Durango, 35,000 3c VOL. V. PART II.

M E X 1 C 0. Mexico, this of Toluca is equal in height to Mont Blanc in ed to the height of three or four feet above the sur- Mexico, Switzerland. The best and most valuable portion of face of the water. Beans, peas, capsicums, potatoes, the intendancy is the Valley of Mexico, which is^ artichokes, cauliflowers, and other vegetables, are called a valley, because surrounded by ridges of cultivated upon them ; the borders are generally orhigher hills, but is yet 7500 feet above the level of namented with flowers, and sometimes a hedge of the ocean. The drains of the hills around the rose bushes is planted as a fence around them. One plain run towards the city, in the vicinity of which of the most agreeable recreations of the inhabitants they form the lakes of Tezcuco, Zumpango, San of the city is taking the air in boats among these deChristoval, Xochimilco, and Chaleo. Tezcuco, from licious floating gardens. The city of Mexico, the most extensive, populous, City of the muriate and carbonate of soda in the soil, is exico brackish ; the other lakes are of good tasted water, and wealthy of any place in the western hemisphere, M and all are abundantly stocked with fish. These is built on what was formerly a lake, and is still a lakes have gradually been drying up, ever since the marshy soil, between the two lakes of Tezcuco and country has been occupied by the Spaniards. The Xochimilco. The centre of the city is distant from great quantity of trees which have been cut down the former two miles and six furlongs, and from the for building, whilst none have been planted, has ex- latter five miles and a half. It equals in regularity posed both the soil and the lakes to a greater de- of buildings, in equality of surface, and in the breadth gree of evaporation, as well by a greater surface on of its streets, St Petersburg, Berlin, or the best parts which the direct rays of the sun operate, as by lay- of Westminster. The houses are built of stone, ing them open to the influence of the drying winds with flat roofs, and generally display considerable from the south. Artificial means have been also ap- architectural taste. The public buildings are magplied to a most expensive, if not an effectual extent, nificent, and have been constructed at enormous exfor draining the Lake of Tezcuco, and preventing it pence. The most considerable of these is the Vicefrom inundating the capital, as it has sometimes done regal Palace, an extensive but heavy edifice; the in a most injurious degree. Operations have been Cathedral, a magnificent building, whose execution carrying on for near 300 years to prevent these in- occupied ninety years, and which is most profusely undations, by turning the Lake of Zumpango into a adorned with gold and silver images, rails and lamps stream, that shall empty itself by the River Tula to of solid silver, and other decorations of the same exthe Gulf of Mexico. The labour, and even the pensive character. There are near one hundred lives, of numberless Indians have been lavished on other churches, which are for the most part ornathis undertaking, and the expenditure has already mented and decorated with the same lavish profusion. ajuounted to L.2,000,000 Sterling. It is a canal of The Royal Mint is a splendid building, and one hunmost stupendous dimensions; but from the friable dred workmen are constantly employed in it. The nature of the soil through which it is conducted, edifice destined for the School of Mines cost in buildfrom frequent variations in the design, and numerous ing L.125,000, and would be thought an ornament errors in the execution, it does not yet operate as an to the best parts of Paris or London. The Plaza effectual security, or insure the inhabitants from Major is adorned with a beautiful equestrian statue of these fatal inundations, by which at several periods King Charles the Fourth, cast in bronze in this city they have been visited. The lakes in the immediate by a native artist. It is considered a chef d'oeuvre vicinity of the capital are made to supply consider- of art, and its weight, which is twenty-two tons, able quantities of vegetables and fruits, by means of must have employed mechanical talents of no comfloating gardens ; an invention of more importance, mon order to place it on the pedestal which supports when the city was almost covered, and wholly sur- it. The Treasury near the Viceroy’s palace is more rounded with water, than at present; but which has, remarkable for having been the spot from whence however, been continued by the Indian families to have issued more than one thousand five hundred the present time, and furnishes the means of subsist- millions of dollars, than for any peculiar beauty or ence to many of them. These gardens (chinampos) taste in the edifice. There are many Convents in are formed of reeds, rushes, roots, and branches of the city, the principal one, that of the Franciscans, is brush-wood, which are converted into a raft; on of great extent, and possesses a large revenue. There these materials is laid the black mould, which is are several Nunneries, the principal part of whose instrongly impregnated with muriate of soda. The soil habitants are the females of the higher Indian famiis gradually purified from the salt, by frequently lies, and some few of the white Creoles. washing it with the water of the lake. Even the Education is not totally neglected, though it is ra-State of water of Tezcuco, which, though salt, is not highly ther at a low ebb. The University is a richly endowed Science and saturated, has the effect of dissolving the salt in the establishment, and has abundance of professors, ca-1'63™118' soil, and by each washing the fertility is increased. nons, and the other offices which might be usefully emSome of these gardens contain the cottage of the ployed. The mathematics, chemistry, and botany, are proprietor, on which he guards a group of surround- more studied than the classics, but scholastic divinity ing chinampos. They are towed or pushed by long is the most favourite pursuit, in an institution whose poles from one part of the lake to the other, and in principal design it is to qualify youth for the clerical process of time, as the lakes have subsided near the profession. The study of mineralogy is prosecuted banks, these gardens have become fixed, and at length, with ardour in the school for that science. A botaby farther fall of the water, have become dry ground. nical garden is established, very richly furnished with Each chinampa is about 330 feet long, and 20 broad. the rarest specimens of those plants which are inteThe mould, purified by frequent irrigations, is heap- resting either to commerce or medicine. An Aca-

MEXICO. Mexico, deray for the Fine Arts, furnished with a good colleo astronomy is of ancient date in Mexico. It had three tion of ancient casts, has been useful in fostering a distinguished cultivators in the last century, Velascorrect taste, which has been displayed in the eques- quez, Gama, and Alzate. They7 made a number trian statue already noticed, and in a beautiful sepul- of observations, especially on the eclipses of Juchral monument consecrated to Cortez by his de- piter s satellites. Alzate was the correspondent scendant the Duke of Monteleon, which was con- of the Academy of Sciences in Paris, and though, structed by Tolsa, and stands in the chapel of the from directing his attention to too many objects, he hospital de los naturales. Instruction in the fine sometimes was led into error, he is entitled to great arts is communicated gratis, and for this purpose praise for having excited among his countrymen a an annual revenue of more than L.5000 is ap- taste for science, and a love of research, and for propriated. The building assigned to it contains having diffused a considerable portion of physical a much finer assemblage of casts than is to be found knowledge by the Gazetta de Literalura, which, for in any city of Germany. Casts of the Apollo Bel- a long series of years, he edited. vedere, Laocoon, and other large statues, have Don Joaquin Velasquez was the most able geomebeen transported over the worst roads, and over trician that has been produced in New Spain, and all higher mountains than St Gothard or St Bernard. his geodetical and astronomical labours bear the stamp The casts were purchased in Europe at an expence of the greatest accuracy. He was born in July 1732, of more than L.8000, exclusive of the cost of con- at an obscure Indian village. His uncle, a parish priest, veyance. The Academy has laboured successfully placed him under an Indian of Xaltocam, who was to introduce among the artisans a taste for elegant deeply versed in the Mexican history and mythology, and beautiful forms. Every evening the large rooms for his education, where he acquired a knowledge of of the building, well lighted with Argand’s lamps, are the various languages of the indigenous inhabitants, filled with hundreds of young people, some of whom and perused their hieroglyphical writings. He was reare occupied in drawing from relievos or living mo- moved to the Tridentine College in Mexico, which then dels, and others in copying drawings of various kinds; had a paucity of books, instruments, and able instrucand in this assemblage the distinctions of rank de- tors. With such assistance as he had, however, he pending on complexion seem to be waved, as the commenced the study of the mathematics, and was at whites, the Indians, and the Mestizoes, meet on equal length made happy by an accident, which placed in terms, and enjoy equal advantages of instruction. his hands the works of Bacon and Newton. From the The knowledge of chemistry is very generally dif- one he imbibed a taste for astronomy, and from the fused throughout Mexico ; it is called the nueva Jilo- other learnt the true method of philosophizing. Besojia, and the natives even in the distant provinces are ing then poor, he began jointly with his friend Guaaccustomed to reason on its principles and results. dalaxara, since Professor of Mathematics in the AcaThe best work on mineralogy in the Spanish language, demy, to construct telescopes, quadrants, and other 'The Manual of Oryctognosy, according to the prin- instruments. Having entered on the profession of ciples of the school of Freyberg, by M. del Rio, was the law, the fees he received as an advocate were published in Mexico, as well as the first translation of destined to procure from England those instruments Lavoisier’s Elements of Chemistry. The School of which his love of science made desirable. He conMines possesses a chemical laboratory, a geological' tinued his studies with much assiduity, and was at collection arranged according to the system of Wer- length appointed a professor in the University. In ner, a physical cabinet furnished with the instruments 1769, he was appointed to observe, in California, of Ramsdec, Adams, Le Noir, and Berthoud, and the transit of Venus, and to make other astronomical also models executed with great accuracy by native observations. He rectified the errors in the geograartisans. The Court of Spain has sedulously pro- phical positions of various places in that country, and moted botanical researches in each portion of its ex- availed himself of its translucent and serene atmotensive transatlantic dominions. The botanical gar- sphere, to make several celestial observations. The den in Mexico exhibits specimens of these expedb Abbe Chappe, from Paris, had arrived in California tions. One of the commissioners for New Spain, M. during his residence there, to observe the transit of Sesse, after returning from the expedition, and ar- \ enus, and was surprised that the Mexican astronoranging his collection, delivered a course of botani- mer was found right in having ascertained that the cal lectures, which are now continued by M. Cer- eclipse of the moon on the 18th of June would be vivantes, whilst M. Echeveria describes the extraordi- sible in California, contrary to his own calculation. nary beasts, birds, and fishes, which the country pro- He made by himself a very good observation of the duces. These gentlemen are both of them natives of transit of Venus over the disk of the sun, 3d June Mexico. 1769, and communicated the result the same mornMathematical knowledge, though not neglected, is ing to Chappe, and to the two Spanish astronomers, less assiduously cultivated in the University of Mexi- who were his fellow commissioners. In 1772, by a co than in the School of Mines. The pupils of this variety of observations, he fixed the latitude and lonlast institution proceed farther in analysis, and are gitude of the capital, and many other important plainstructed in the integral and differential calculus. ces in the viceroyalty. His labours were indefatigAs the return of peace has supplied them with chro- able, and the establishment of the School of Mines, nometers, sextants, and repeating circles, we may which owes its origin to him, will be a lasting monuhope for accurate observations from the most re- ment of his zeal and ardour in the cause of science. mote provinces of the viceroyalty. The taste for He died in 1786, whilst director-general of the Tri-

381 Mexico.

382 M E X Mexico, bunal de Mineria, and invested with the title of Al~ crdde del Corte Honoraria. After these notices, it would be unjust not to mention Gama. Without fortune, and with a numerous family to maintain by severe and almost mechanical labour, he was unknown during his life to his fellow citizens, though they eulogised him after his death. Gama, by his own exertions, became an able and w^ell informed astronomer. He published several memoirs on eclipses of the moon, on the satellites of Jupiter, on the almanack and chronology of the ancient Mexicans, and on the climate of New Spain; all of which discover great precision of ideas, and great accuracy of observation.—It is proper to record these instances of mental proficiency, both as preserving the memory of respectable individuals, and showing that the western hemisphere is capable of producing and developing talent. Police, PoThe Acordada, a prison and house of correction, pulation, jg a very gne an(j extensive building. It has room for more than 1200 inhabitants, many of whom are destined to reside there, for contravening the revenue laws, and for other offences. Besides the hospital of St Juan de Dios, which, being under the care of the monks, as in the other Spanish dominions, is not considered to receive the best medical treatment; there are several other hospitals, which receive the sick poor, and to which students in medicine are admitted, to acquire the knowledge of their profession. The streets of Mexico are well paved with a most excellent kind of porphyry, and it is well lighted with convex lamps. A common sewer runs through the centre of each street, which is covered with planks, and conveys the filth of the city away. A very good police is maintained, under the direction of the Cabildo, or corporation of the city. Mexico contains a population of about 140,000, of whom nearly onehalf are whites, either European or Creole, the remainder Indians, Negroes, and the various mixed casts. There are in the streets, without habitation, and almost without food or work, nearly 30,000 Indians, called Guachinangos, who resemble the Lazaroni of Naples, though, unlike them, they neither beg nor are tumultuous. As a small quantity of labour will enable them to indulge the propensity for drunkenness, they are often seen in the streets in a state of intoxicated insensibility, when they are carried to the guard-house, and, when recovered, set to work by the police. They are employed in cleansing the streets, and, in a day or two, having acquired sufficient to purchase as much pulque as will intoxicate them, they are soon again in the same condition, transferred to the guard-house, and from thence to the streets, and thus pass their lives in alternate drunkenness and punishment. As Mexico is built on a marshy soil, water is to be found everywhere, by digging a few feet, but this water is not much approved by the inhabitants, except for washing. The principal supply is by means of aqueducts, which convey the water to the different parts of the city. The best is from the lake of Xochimilco, which is remarkably pure and limpid, and runs incessantly. Every kind of provision is cheaply and abundantly supplied from the surrounding districts, which are highly cultivated, and covered

I C 0. with a hardy and numerous population, whose prin- Mexico, cipal occupation is the labour of agriculture. The consumption of pulque within the city is enormous; a duty is collected at the gates which produces annually 600,000 dollars. The consumption of bread in Mexico is, in proportion to the population, nearly the same as in the cities of Europe. Beef is less eaten than mutton; the annual supply of oxen is only 16,000, whilst that of sheep is 273,000. Salt is made near the city. The clayey soil is impregnated with muriate of soda, which is dissolved, and, by evaporation, refined so as to fit it for culinary purposes. In regard to the supply of all necessaries, no city can be more favourably placed than Mexico, and its local position is such as to give it a commanding influence over the whole of the American continent. It can more easily communicate both with Europe and Asia than any other capital, and nothing is wanted to augment its importance to an astonishing extent, but a free commerce, more liberal institutions, and an intercourse with some port to the northward of Vera Cruz, in a more healthy climate than that city enjoys. The next important place to Mexico in the in- other Cities tendancy of that name is Queretaro, a city of 35,000 in this In. inhabitants, surrounded with mines, celebrated for ten500 inhabitants. lavas, containing fragments of primitive rocks. The It has a line of coast on the South Sea, about 38 great eruptions of the central volcano continued till leagues in length, but has no port or navigable river February of the following year, when they began on the whole of its border. It is situated on the gradually to diminish. The country has ever since western declivity of the Cordilleras, intersected with obtained the very appropriate name of Malpays. hills and delightful valleys, which exhibit the unusual The terrified inhabitants, who had retired to a disspectacle in the torrid zone of verdant and well wa- tance of between seven and eight leagues, became tered meadows. In descending to the coast, the gradually reconciled to the spectacle, and having reclimate is hot and the soil arid. The most singular turned to their cottages, beheld, with admiration, feature in this intendancy is the Volcano de Xorul- the streams of fire issuing from a vast number of lo, or Juruyo, which was formed in the night of the great and small apertures. Although the subterra20th September 1759. The catastrophe in which neous noises now appear by no means violent, and this mountain rose in one night, to a great height, the Malpays, and even the great volcano, begin to and totally changed the face of a great extent of be covered with vegetables, yet the ambient air is so country, is one of the most singular of which we have heated by the action of the small ovens, that the any recent and accurate accounts. Till the period thermometer, in the shade, at a great distance from of the combustion, the extent of ground between two the surface, rose to 109. The traveller is still shown brooks, called the San Pedro and the Cuitamba, was the two brooks, whose clear streams formerly wateroccupied by plantations of indigo and sugar canes. ed the plantation, bursting forth at a distance of These two streams were bounded by basaltic moun- more than a mile from the spot where they were entains, the structure of which indicated that the dis- veloped in the chasm created by the volcano. These trict, at some remote period, had been subject to streams, if the same, are now united in one, and are of great volcanic convulsions. Fields, beautifully irri- the temperature of 126. There is near them a sulgated, formed the plantation of Xorullo, one of the phurous stream, more than 22 feet in breadth, the richest and most prosperous in the whole province. water of which is most highly impregnated with that In the month of June 1759, subterraneous rumbling mineral. The belief among the more rude Indians noises were heard, and were attended with shocks of in the vicinity is, that the convulsion was a miracle earthquakes, that, during an interval of fifty or sixty wrought by some Capuchin friars, who had preachdays, created terror in the cultivators. In the be- ed, but without effect, to their tribes ; that being ginning of September, tranquillity appeared to be re- thus rejected, they poured forth imprecations, and stored. The roaring had ceased, and the earth- declared that the plantation should be first destroyquakes were suspended. In the night between the ed by earthquakes and volcanos; and that when 28th and 29th, the horrid rumbling recommenced, the latter were burnt out, the climate would graand with increased loudness, so as to terrify the in- dually cool, till, from being perpetually buried in habitants, who fled to the adjacent mountains. Dur- frost and snow, it would become totally uninhabitaing the night, a surface of ground, from three to ble. As the first part of the prediction has been fulfour leagues in extent, swelled up like an enormous filled, and as the gradual coolness has been increasbladder, in a convex form, whose elevation, in the ing, they live under a strong impression that the latcentre, was 520 feet above the level of the ground ter will also be accomplished, thus expecting an imfrom which it rose. Those who saw the awful spec- possibility, because a natural, though unusual, opertacle assert that flames issued forth for an extent of ation of nature has taken place. The industry of the more than half a square league ; that fragments of monks, in making converts among the Indians, is very burning rocks wrere thrown to prodigious heights ; great; many of them are constantly employed in the and that, through a cloud of thick ashes, when illu- work, and their anxiety to succeed in it is such, that mined by the volcanic fire, the softened surface of they seldom fail to avail themselves of any natural octhe earth was seen to lift itself up like the waves of currence that can be made subservient to their views. the sea. The two rivulets ran into the fiery chasm, The Indians, who inhabit this province, are of and the decomposition of their waters contributed three different races, and each retains its original to invigorate the flames. Eruptions of mud, and language;—the Tarases, who were famed in the especially strata of clay and basaltes, in concentrical sixteenth century for their industry, and the adlayers, indicated that subterraneous water had a vancement they had made in the mechanical arts ; great share in producing this extraordinary convul- the Otomites, who are remarked for their low sion. Thousands of small cones, from six to ten feet degree of civilization, and their peculiarly gut-

MEXICO. 385 Mexico, tural language, which was noticed by Cortez at the principal productions of the soil, whilst the manufac* Mexico, first discovery; and the Chichimecs, who, like the tories furnish cloth from cotton and from wool, both ^ y-™Tlascalars, have preserved the ancient language for the inhabitants of this district and some of the spoken at the Aztec court. The whole of the north surrounding ones. One of the most productive part of the intendancy is inhabited by these tribes, mines of New Spain, that of Balanos, is within this who preserve their ancient separation, if not their intendancy, besides which are Asientos de Ibarra, enmity. They are, however, all Christians, and the Copaia, Guichichila, and several smaller ones. The only white man seen in their villages is sometimes city of Guadalaxara is the residence of the bishop a priest, though even the ecclesiastics are more fre- and of the intendant; and the highest court of quently of the Indian or Mestizo race. The benefices justice, the Royal Audience, has its sessions in it. It are so poor, that it is with difficulty any of the clergy is a corporation with a cabildo. The edifices are can be induced to reside in a country where no some of them very magnificent. The population in Spanish is spoken, and which on the sea coast is so 1793, according to Humboldt, was 19,500 ; but by an unhealthy, that the priests frequently die of malig- account now before us taken in 1809, it appears to nant fevers within six or eight months after their in- amount to more than 40,000. The only other city, duction. The population of this intendancy de- St Bias, if it were not unhealthy, would at some time creased very much in the year 1786 and 1790, when become a port of vast importance. It is the best the country, from long drought, was visited by scar- harbour on the western shore of Mexico. It has city approaching to famine. The suffering of the in- an inland communication by means of the river St habitants would have been much greater, but for the lago. The country about it is well covered with humanity of the bishop of the diocese; who, at a excellent ship timber. Pitch, tar, and turpentine, loss of more than 50,000 dollars to himself, procured are to be procured with facility, and hemp and flax maize from the neighbouring provinces to feed the grow as far as they are pei*mitted almost spontaneously. It is already the principal arsenal for building poor. The principal city, Valladolid de Mechoacan, con- ships, and the chief place where the few ships of war, tains about 18,000 inhabitants; it is the see of a belonging to Spain, in those seas are refitted. It was in bishop, and the residence of the intendant. The the contemplation of the government to concentrate town-house, churches, and convents, are handsome, their naval affairs by conveying the stores of St Bias and the public walk, the Alameda, celebrated for its to Acapulco, but the superior advantages of the beauty. Pascuaro, the next city, is finely situated former port has induced the continuance of it as an on the border of a lake of the same name. It con- arsenal. The intendancy of Zaccatecas contains 2350 Intendancy tains 6000 inhabitants, mostly Indians. A former Zaccate " bishop of Valladolid is interred here, Vasco de Qui- square leagues, and a population of 153,000 inharago, who was distinguished by his humanity to the bitants. Its dependance is almost wholly on the Indians, and by the skill with which he inspired them rich mines which it contains. The table-land, which with the practice of industry: he died in 1556, but forms the centre of the district, is composed of his memory is preserved by the rude tribes, who still sienite, on which strata of primitive schistus and schiscall him their father. The only town besides is tous chlorites repose. The schist forms the base of Huitzitzilla, with 2500 inhabitants. Some of the the mountains of grauwacke and trappish porphyry. mines are very valuable, particularly those of Zita- There are nine small lakes to the north of the capital, which abound in muriate and carbonate of soda, quaro and Ileal del Oro. Guadalaxara is an intendancy extending over a especially the latter. This carbonate is of great use Intendancy of Guada- surface of 9612 square leagues, and maintaining a in dissolving the muriates and the sulphurets of sillaxara. population of 630,500 souls. It stretches 123 leagues ver. The central table-land of Asia does not abound along the shores of the Pacific Ocean, where it has in soda more than this part of Mexico. Some of the single port of St Bias. It is crossed from east to the richest silver mines are worked in this province, west by the Santiago, a considerable river, which where was discovered the veta negra de Sombrete, rises on the lake Chapala, and empties itself into the the richest seam that was ever discovered in either Pacific Ocean, near St Bas. It is a most important hemisphere. Zaccatecas, the chief place, contains means of communication between the interior of the a population of 33,000 inhabitants. Sombrete and country and the sea, and though now only used for Fresnillo are large well-inhabited places, and infloating timber to the naval arsenal, is capable of be- creasing as the productiveness of the mines which ing made the route for the productions of Salamanca, they surround increases. The intendancy of Oaxaca is one of the richest Intendancy Guanaxuato, and Zelaya, to the ocean. The volcano of Colima in this province rises to the height of in New Spain; its extent is 4447 square leagues, of Oaxaca, 9200 feet above the sea; but the plain on which it and its inhabitants amount to 535,000. Its southstands being 5500, its appearance is not striking. ern boundary extends along the coast of the Pacific No eruption of it is recorded, but it frequently Ocean from Guatimala to the province Puebla, a throws up smoke and ashes. It is the most westerly distance of 110 leagues. Oaxaca is one of the most of all the volcanos of New Spain. This intendancy delightful countries in this quarter of the globe. is both an agricultural and manufacturing district: The beauty and salubrity of the climate, the fei’tiliaccording to the statement made by the intendant, ty of the soil, and the variety and richness of its the value of its annual agricultural produce amount- productions, all minister to the prosperity of the ined to 2,599>000 dollars, and that of its manufactures habitants, who have, in consequence, from the most to 3,302,000. Maize, wheat, and cotton, are the remote period that we are acquainted with, been the

MEXICO. 386 Mexico, most advanced in civilization of any portion of New peninsula has a ridge of high mountains in the Mexico, Spain. The mountain soil of this province forms a centre, which divides the part to which the English ^ singular contrast with that of the adjoining distx-icts. have access from the Spanish inhabitants. The In place of the strata of basaltes, and amygdaloid, western side of this range alone is, strictly speakand porphyry, with griinstein base, which cover the ing, under the Viceroy of Mexico, who has issued other regions, only granite and gneiss are found in orders for the Indians under the authority of Spain these mountains. The height of these granite sum- to be removed to such a distance as shall prevent mits are not ascertained, but the Cerro de Senpual- their assisting in contraband trade. The soil of this tepec is said to be the loftiest, and from one of its peninsula, when cultivated, is fertile, and yields the heights both the seas are to be seen. This intend- subsistence and subjects of commerce which a troancy comprehends two mountainous districts, called pical climate usually affords. Its hills abound with Mixteca and Tzapoteca. The Indians of the for- cattle, whose hides and tallow constitute part of the mer, who principally cultivate the nopal for the exports. The climate, especially in the hills in the cochineal insect, are an active, intelligent, and in- centre, is salubrious, and refreshed by the sea breezes. dustrious race of people. Some ancient cemeteries Campeche is the principal place of commerce, but which exist, though in ruins, show that the inhabit- the whole shore is so flat, that vessels cannot apants of this district, before it was known to Europe, proach within six or seven miles with safety. Its inhad made more progress than the other natives of habitants are estimated at 7000 or 8000. The town this continent. The palace of Mitla was appropri- of Merida is on an arid plain, forty miles from the ated as a retirement for the sovereign, to lament for coast. A small river passes it, and enters the sea at the loss of a wife, a mother, or a son. It forms a part which can scarcely admit the entrance of large three edifices, the principal of which is best pre- boats ; what little commerce it enjoys is by this chanserved, and is 130 feet in length. A staircase form- nel. Its exports consist principally of honey, wax, ed in a pit leads to a subterraneous apartment, 88 and an inferior kind of cotton; but the latter article, feet by 26. This gloomy place is covered with owing to the want of machines for clearing the seed Grecques, the same as the exterior walls of the pa- from the wool, is of very little value. The populalace. The most material distinction between this tion of the town is 10,000 souls. Besides these, and other Mexican edifices is, its having pillars of there is the small town of Valladolid, with about porphyry to support the ceiling; they are 17 feet 2500 inhabitants. The rest of the population is high, and the shaft is a single piece. The similarity scattered in small villages, or spread in wandering of the apartments to those found in Upper Egypt is tribes. The wood, which takes its name from one very striking. This province gives the title of mar- of the towns of this province {Campeche), is found quis to the family of Cortez, and the majorazgo be- in great abundance. It is suffered to dry for one longing to them consists of four towns and forty-nine year after it is cut down, when it is usually carried villages, which contain 17,000 inhabitants. The to Vera Cruz or Havana, to be conveyed to Europe. principal city, Oaxaca, but sometimes called Anteque- The expences of its conveyance are so great, in ra, contains about 24,000 inhabitants. It is the resi- proportion to its value, that it is scarcely worth condence of the bishop, of the intendant, and the court verting into an article of commerce. There are no of justice. It is well built, and was, till the late mines of any description in this intendancy. disturbances, when the insurgents entered and plunThe intendancy of Vera Cruz is a narrow strip of Intendancy dered it, a most rapidly improving place. San An- land extending along the coast of the Gulf of Mexi- ^r^era tonia de los Cues is a populous place, and carries co, from the river Baraderas or de los Largatos, tocr z‘ on a considerable trade. The only port is Teguan- the great river, or rather the estuary of Panuco. Its tepeque, at the mouth of a river, whose bar impedes length is 210 leagues, whilst its breadth is only from the entrance of large vessels. It is, however, the 25 to 28 leagues. Its whole surface is an extent of channel by which the indigo and other valuable 4140 square leagues, and its population no more products of Guatimala pass into the river Huascual- than 156,000. Having already, under the division co, in their way to the European markets. The of commerce, taken a view of its most important demost considerable mines are Villalta, Zolga, Yxte- pot, the city of Vera Cruz, the capital of this intenpexi, and Totomosla, but their produce is inconsi- dancy, we pass on to the description of its interior. derable, when compared with the richer veins to the There is no region of even the new continent where northward. the change and variety of climate and production is d Cy oofM : en-da. com Merida prjses isonan iy intendancy ofia New Spain, though which it so abrupt as in this province. The high and snowy t^e peninsu 0f Yucatan, mountains approach almost to the shore, where the formed no part of the ancient empire of Mexico, intense heat of a vertical sun is felt with the fullest and is now in part inhabited by a few straggling fervour. The western side of this district forms the British subjects, and a numerous body of unreclaim- acclivity of the table-land of Mexico, and the ascent ed Indians. Its extent is 5977 square leagues, and is so sudden, that, in the short space of a single day, its population is estimated at 465,000, the far greater the traveller from the plain above may, from the repart of whom live an erratic life. Cape Catoche gions of eternal frost and snow, reach the level was once probably joined to Cape Antonio, in the ground on the shore of the ocean, where the most Island of Cuba; but the period when the impetuous suffocating heats prevail. In ascending to the upper force of the ocean burst the barrier, and formed the plain, the increase of elevation is distinctly marked Gulf of Mexico, must be more a matter of con- by the different trees, and other vegetables, and by jecture than either of history or of calculation. The the modes of cultivation which the peasantry pur10

M E X I C O. 387 Mexico, sue. The growth of the oak points out the limit the physician than to the merchant, are collected Mexico, which nature has assigned to the dreadful fever of in this intendancy. The root of the Convolovulus the low country. When the region where that tree jalapae is found near the city, from which it has regrows is once gained, the apprehension of infection ceived its name. Sarsaparilla is also found in plenty from the contagious disease of the warm climate may in the humid and shady ravines of the Cordilleras. be at rest. In ascending to Xalapa, 4300 feet, the The royal monopoly of tobacco is supplied vrith part forests of liquid-amber announce that the traveller is of its consumption from the vicinity of Cordova, and in the region where the clouds from the ocean come creates a large portion of that productive branch of in contact with the basaltic summits of the Cordil- revenue. The city of Vera Cruz is the capital of leras. A little higher, the banana tree, whose fruit the intendancy, and to what has been already noticed induces indolence in the native of the hot climates, concerning it, it will be sufficient to add that its poceases to be productive, and thus compels the peasant pulation is 16,000 inhabitants, and that the public to a more laborious kind of cultivation. At the buildings and houses are all built of materials drawn height of San Miguel, pine trees begin to mingle from the bottom of the ocean ; a species of madreamong the oaks, and gradually increase to Perote, pones and petchistein, as there is neither stone nor at the elevation of 7700 feet, where the eye of the clay in the neighbourhood. Water is very scarce traveller is first regaled by the spectacle of exten- and brackish, so that most houses are provided with sive fields of wheat. A thousand feet higher the tanks for holding the rain, which falls in most co climate forbids the growth of the oak, and only pious showers, or rather torrents, at some seasons. pines are to be seen, which clothe the mountains till Xalapa, or Jalapa, is a city rather more than half they penetrate the regions of perpetual snow. The the height of the central table-land. The climate becoast of Vera Cruz is very thinly inhabited ; this ing good, it is the resort of the richer inhabitants of may in some measure be owing to the insalubrity of Vera Cruz, when their commercial affairs do not deits climate, though no more can be owing to that mand their personal attendance. The sky is serene cause there, than in the other tropical regions ; but and beautiful in summer, but from December to as the coast is the frontier against a naval enemy, February it wears a most melancholy aspect. When the only one that New Spain could dread, the mili- the north winds blow at Vera Cruz, the inhabitants tary service in the militia demanded from the inha- of Xalapa are enveloped in a thick fog, the thermobitants was much greater than in the cooler regions, meter falls to 60 or 6l, and for several weeks the where, from the climate, it is much less oppressive; sun and stars are utterly invisible. In the other and therefore many fly from the coast, to escape the parts of the year, when the heats on the coast are forced service in the corps of lancers and cavalry. intolerable, and the sufferings from insects highly Though the most fertile spot on the globe, yet annoying, the'residents at Xalapa enjoy all the deVera Cruz has frequently been exposed to a want lights that the most voluptuous climate can afford. of provisions, from the scarcity of labourers in its The buildings in this place are spacious, and partake vicinity to execute the small portion of work which of that character of magnificence which is prevalent its productiveness demands. in New Spain. Some attention to study and to the In this province are two mountains of great height. fine arts is paid ; and there is a School of Drawing, The volcano of Orixaba is 17,300 feet above the level in which children of the poorer artisans are instructof the sea; it resembles a truncated cone, and its cra- ed, at the expence of the richer inhabitants. The ter, which inclines towards the south-east, is visible population amounts to about 14,000, the greater at a prodigious distance. Its upper part is always part of whom are whites. covered with snow. Smoke constantly ascends from Perote is a fortress rather than a town, and in it it, but it has not terrified the inhabitants by an the treasure destined for Europe is usually lodged, eruption within any known period. The Coffer of to wait a secure means of conveyance. In time of Perote, another mountain, and which, with Orixaba, war, it is said to have contained at one time more serves as a guide to mariners in approaching the than 40,000,000 of dollars, waiting an opportunity coast, is 13,500 in height. On its summit is a square of being conveyed to Cadiz. It is nearly 8000 feet mass, resembling a large chest, from which its name above the level of the sea, and in a country peculiarhas been obtained. No crater is to be seen upon it, ly barren. nor are any eruptions recorded, but currents of lava, Cordova is a large town, in a good climate on the near some villages in its vicinity, appear to indicate eastern declivity of the Pic de Orizaba, whose inhathat at some distant period there must have been bitants, about 6000, are mostly employed in the cultia lateral explosion. A volcano at Tuxtla, to the vation of tobacco ; as are those of Orizaba, another southward of Vera Cruz, has had frequent eruptions town of nearly the same population, a little to the within recent periods ; one, in March 1793, was very eastward of Cordova. The inhabitants of these two considerable, the houses in Vera Cruz, Oaxaca, and places had a contest of many years continuance, rePerote, were covered with ashes, and at the latter specting the course of the new road from Vera Cruz place, though a distance of 180 miles, the subterrane- to Mexico. After much intrigue, many law-suits, ous noises which were heard there at the same time and much bribery, a road was begun, and is now resembled heavy discharges of artillery. There are proceeding from Perote to Xalapa, and from thence no mines at present worked in this intendancy ; some to the bottom of the mountains near Vera Cruz, were formerly explored, but, after being ascertained which, when completed, will have a powerful effect to be too poor to be profitable, they have been aban- on the future conditon of the whole viceroyalty. doned. Some medicinal productions, of more value to There are many smaller towns on the more elevated VOL. v. PART II. 3D

MEXICO. 388 Mexico, parts of the province, which is indeed by far the best is much larger than many other places so incor- Mexico, peopled division of it; but in the border on the sea- porated. Though the intendancy of San Luis Potosi extends coast there are merely plantations, haciendas or grazing tracts, ranchos, with none but the necessary la- over the four provinces of Leon, Santander, Cohahuila, bourers which the two species of establishments re- and Texas, those divisions are no part of the viceroyalty of New Spain, but are under a chief independquire. Intendancy San Luis Potosi is the largest intendancy in New ent of its control, though, in affairs of revenue, they of San Luis Spain, and, like the other northern parts of the vice- are accountable to the intendant of St Luis, and in Potosi. royalty, very thinly peopled. Its extent is 27,260 law processes their last appeal is to the court of square leagues, and its population 335,000. Though royal audience in the city of Mexico. As these prothis extent is mentioned, it is by no means to be re- vinces are but little known to Europe, were but lied upon, for the limits to the north have never been slightly noticed by Humboldt, and yet promise at no ascertained with any tolerable accuracy, and the distant period, both from their natural properties, greater part has never been explored by any but the and from their local situation, as the frontier towards native Indians. A considerable district lying be- the United States, to be subjects of considerable intween the rivers Conchas and Bravo del Norte, call- terest, we shall describe them according to the Meed Bolson de Mapimi, extending over 3000 leagues, morial which their delegate to the Cortez at Cadiz, is occupied by tribes of Indians called Apaches, who Don Miguel Ramos de Arispe, presented to that make perpetual incursions on the Spanish settlers in body. Coahahuila and New Biscay. San Luis Potosi, from These four provinces occupy two hundred and its southern extremity to the ridge of mountains twenty leagues of shore on the Gulf of Mexico. which separate it from the provincias internas (which Though none of the ports are good, and all have bars will be presently noticed), presents a regular decli- at their mouths, yet they are capable of considerable vity ; beginning at the table-land of Mexico, and with improvement, and probably would be improved, if a gentle descent terminating near Saltillo, where the greater freedom of commerce were allowed them. only opening in that range of mountains is to be The harbour at the mouth of Rio Bravo del Norte, found. The southern part is a country whose mines called El Brazo de Sa?itiago, is the best on the coast. are very productive, and in the northern they are It has never less than thirteen feet water at its ensupposed to be equally rich, but the want of capital trance, and as the tide sometimes rises three feet, it and the thinness of the population have hitherto pre- would admit vessels, properly adapted for it, of 400 vented them from being explored. The southern tons. It is defended from the prevailing storms by part is fertile and cool, with the exception of some the island Malahuitas, The river is already naviof the deepest valleys and the highest mountains. gable forty leagues upwards, and might be made so, Wheat is grown sufficient for the higher class of in- with very little exertion, thirty leagues higher. The habitants, but the poorer classes use bread made from port of San Barnardo, in lat. 27° 30', was, indeed, in maize. The whole country is well supplied with 1808, decreed to be opened for admitting vessels eianimal food, either from itself or from the provincias ther from Spain or the colonies, but up to March internas. As there are no settlements between the 1812, only three small sloops had entered it, and river Sabina and the mountains which divide it from owing to some jealousies of the officers of governTexas, this province contains 1500 square leagues ment, the restrictions on commerce were such as to without habitations, and most parts of the district forbid the hopes of increase. El Soto de la Marina, present nothing but impassible marshes. Mr Lafond, a port now closed by authority, in 24° 29' of north a French engineer who passed through this country, latitude, if it could be opened, would be improved by states, that eight leagues north of Chichi there are its own inhabitants, who are anxious to be allowed hills which abound in coal, from which subterranean to do so. These four extensive provinces are se« noises resembling discharges of artillery are frequent- parated from the other dominions of Spain by ridges ly heard. It occupies ten or twelve weeks to travel of mountains which are impassable in most parts by from the city of Mexico to the frontiers of this in- horses, and totally so by wheel carriages, except tendancy, and the greater number of nights, from at the single chasm where the city of Saltillo is want of habitations, must be passed in the open air. built, and which has, in consequence, become the The city of San Luis, the capital, contains a popula- focus of all communication. Their intercourse with tion of 12,000 inhabitants; being the seat of the each other is maintained with great facility, both board of revenue for the provincias internas, it has by means of their rivers and their extensive and considerable intercourse with them. The mines of rich plains; and they can exchange their different Catorce have only been worked since 1778, but they productions without encountering those difficulties now hold the second or third rank among those of which almost exclude communication with New Spain, New Spain. These mines are in rocks easily work- Coahuila, the largest of the provinces, is the southered, and requiring but a small supply of gunpowder to most, and divided from San Luis Potosi and Zacatecas blast them. They have, too, the great advantage of by the Cordilleras before noticed. It is 200 leagues in being free from water almost altogether, so as to need length, and 100 in breadth. Its situation is generally no costly machines to discharge it. The town of elevated, and being wrell sheltered from the north-west Catorce, situated near the mines, and depending on winds, its climate is generally healthy, not too hot them, has risen with great rapidity from an obscure even in the summer, nor severely cold in the winter Indian village, to be a large and flourishing place, months. Its surface is most luxuriantly irrigated by and though not yet dignified with the title of city, it the numberless springs which burst from its hills, and. 4

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MEXICO. Mexico, produce rivulets that contribute to increase the waters of the great river Bravo del Norte. The water of these springs is generally pure, from mineral solutions, and is pleasing to the taste, but some are impregnated with sulphur, and are used for medicinal purposes. Its pastures are clothed with rich natural grasses, and admirably calculated for breeding, rearing, and fattening cattle; and its forests furnish abundance of wood, well calculated for every kind of construction. There are mines of saltpetre, copperas, alum, lead, tin, and copper, besides some silver in Santa Rosa, and gold in Sacramento. These mineral treasures, for want of population and capital, have been rather ascertained than explored. The inhabitants are almost wholly of the white race, or with such slight mixture of the Indian blood, as to make no distinction in colour worthy of notice. The native tribes within the province have been extinguished ; but, on the borders, they have the warlike nations of the Lipanes and Cumanches to the north, and the Apaches and Mescaleros to the west. The principal town, Saltillo, contains 6000 inhabitants; it is the seat of the fiscal branch of the government for the four provinces. An annual fair is held at it, to which great crowds resort, and exchange their produce for the few articles of European luxury, which their high prices and the poverty of the inhabitants enable them to obtain. Monclova is deemed the capital of the province, because it is the head-quarters of the military; but the governor-general resides at Chihecahua, in New Biscay. He is independent of the viceroy of Mexico, and has equal power throughout the four provinces, except in matters of finance, and in legal decisions. Cohauila contained betwixt 70,000 and 80,000 inhabitants in 1811. They are solely occupied in agriculture, and produce excellent wheat and barley, and great variety of fruits. The vines cultivated here make wine of very excellent flavour, and considerable strength, and, if admitted into New Spain, would be a valuable source of riches. The province of Texas began to be peopled from Cohauila, in the middle of the last century. San Antonio de Bejar, the principal place, is called a city, as are Espirito Santo and Nacodoches; but all have a very small population. In each town, a troop of cavalry is established; and, since 1806, detachments have been posted on the rivers Guadalupe and Trinidad, and in the port of Arcotaisas. On account of the pretensions of the government of the United States, a body of militia of 700 men has been kept constantly in active service in this province, and they, with their families, have contributed to extend cultivation and to increase the population. The plains in this province are cultivated with indigo, coffee, and sugar, but to very trifling extent; and they produce zasafras, snake-root, and some other drugs. Mines are said to exist, but none are worked. The province of Leon, or, as it is pompously designated by the Spaniards, the New Kingdom of Leon, is one hundred leagues in length, and fifty in breadth, all in a low and hot climate, except the town of Rio Blanco, and the Valley de Labradores, which are beyond the mountains, and with difficulty approached from the other parts of the province. Its

389

soil is generally fruitful, and abounds in excellent v Mexico, pastures, on which numerous cattle are bred. It *-^v^» produces abundance of corn and fruits; and mines of lead, tin, and copper, are slightly worked. The inhabitants affirm, that it has several rich mines of silver and gold, but they are too poor to work them. The city of Monte del Rey is the capital; it is the residence of the bishop, who has spiritual authority over the four provinces. There is in it a college, a cathedral served by seventeen priests, an hospital, and a convent of Franciscans. The capital contains 9000 souls. There is another city, Linares, and several towns, but they cannot be large, as the whole population of the province only amounted to between 70,000 and 80,000 inhabitants. The province of Santander, like that of Leon, only began to be peopled about fifty years ago. As part of this province is on the coast, it is warm, but in general healthy, the air being free from humidity, and cooled by the trade wdnd in the day, and the land wind at night. The more elevated parts are cooler, but the mountains are not of that immense height, as to be intolerable even on their summits. The country is well irrigated, and the soil well calculated for every production of all climates. Its mines of tin, lead, and copper, are affirmed to be rich, and the ore of the latter is said to be the nearest to the pure metal of any hitherto discovered. The inhabitants amount only to between 60,000 and 70,000: Horcasitas, the capital, contains about 5000 ; the remainder are distributed in several smaller towns, and in numerous villages and farms, and are wholly employed in the affairs of agriculture. This province abounds with excellent horses, with which part of Mexico is supplied; they are of an active make, accustomed to perform long journeys, and, what is of vast consequence, when the use of shoes is not introduced, with very hard hoofs. The sheep have multiplied in an extraordinary degree, for the short period during which these provinces have been settled. They not only suffice for their own consumption, but supply the markets of Zacatecas, Queretara, Mexico, and Puebla, notwithstanding their immense distance. Notwithstanding the riches of the soil, and the salubrity of the air, the inhabitants of these provinces have made no progress to be compared with that of those who have proceeded from the United States, into the western part of the Continent, or to the British province of Upper Canada. This may be accounted for in some measure from the want of capital in the settlers; for it appears that they are obliged to sell their cotton, as well as the wool from their sheep, to the people of the south, as soon as it is collected, from not having money to pay for weaving it at home. Some manufactories have commenced at Saltillo, where about forty looms are at work ; but such is their poverty, that they are obliged to sell every week what they produce, that they may purchase a supply of wool to work with in the subsequent week. Although this want of capital is a great impediment, it might be, and would be surmounted, if the bad policy of the government did not tend to keep them from improvement. Being prevented, by the system adopted in many parts of the Spanish dominions, from having direct intercourse

390 MEXICO. Mexico. from their own ports with any other, all they want independent Indians. The Acoclames, the Cocoy- Mexico, comes loaded with heavy duties and charges, and ames, the Apaches, the Mescaleros, and Fardones, what they have to dispose of comes to the consumer possess the Bolson and mountains of Chamante, on with similar additions. In these kind of transactions the left bank of the Rio del Norte. The Membrenos the tax called Alcavala,—a duty on the sale of every are farther to the west, in the wild ravines of the commodity, is felt with peculiar pressure. This is Sierra de Acha. The Cumanches, and the numerous strongly stated by Don Miguel Ramos in his Memo- tribes of Chechimees, included by the Spaniards in rial. the general and vague term of Mecos, disturb the “ There is no open port for all the opulent king- inhabitants of New Biscay, and compel them always dom of Mexico,” be says, 1> ••• if the negative value of n increases. Let n become infinite, the axis will likewise be infinite; let —n 5 l 1 5 . . . 2 , 2 , Smell.—18. Taste. grey. Example, basalt. 2. Iron-black is principally distinguished from the I. Colour. preceding by its being rather darker, and possessThe colours in the mineral kingdom are not so ing a metallic lustre. Example, magnetic iron-ore. numerous as is generally imagined; and even the 3. Velvet-black is the characteristic colour of this varieties, although often extremely beautiful, and ap- series. It is the colour of black velvet. Example, parently infinite in number, bear but a small propor- obsidian. tion to the vast series that characterize the various 4. Pitch-black, or brotvnish-black, is velvet-black productions of the vegetable and animal kingdoms. mixed with a little yellowish-brown. Example, coWerner, who bestowed great attention on this intebalt ochre. resting and beautiful character, enumerates eight 5. Greenish-black, or raven-black, is velvet-black principal colours, viz. white, grey, black, blue, green, mixed with a little greenish-grey. Example, hornyellow, red, and brown. Each of these principal colours exhibits a greater or less number of varieties, blende. 6. Bluish-black is velvet-black mixed with a little many of which have been accurately defined, and are blue. Example, black earthy cobalt ochre. contained in the following enumeration. 4. Blue. I. Definitions of the different Varieties of Colour. 1. White. 1. Snoiu-iuhite is the purest colour, and nearly agrees with that of new-fallen snow. Examples of this colour occur in Carrara marble and common quartz. 2. Reddish-'white is snow-white with a slight intermixture of red. Example, red quartz. 3. Yellowish-white is snow-white with very little lemon-yellow and ash-grey. Example, chalk. 4. Silver-white is yellowish-white with metallic lustre. Example, arsenical pyrites. 5. Greyish-white is snow-white mixed with a little ash-grey. Example, quartz. 6. Greenish-white is snow-white mixed with a very little emerald-green and ash-grey. Example, amianthus. 7. Milk-white is snow-white mixed with a little Berlin-blue and ash-grey. The colour of skimmed milk. Example, calcedony. 8. Tin-white differs from the preceding colour, principally in containing a little more grey, and having the metallic lustre. Example, native antimojiy.

1. Blackish-blue is Berlin-blue mixed with much black, and a trace of red. Example, blue copper. 2. Azure-blue is Berlin-blue mixed with a little red. Example, blue copper. 3. Violet-blue is Berlin-blue mixed with much red and very little black. Example, amethyst. 4. Lavender-blue is violet-blue mixed with a small portion of grey. Examples, lithomarge and porcelain jasper. 5. Plum-blue is Berlin-blue, with more red than in violet-blue, and a small portion of brown and black. Example, spineL 6. Berlin-blue is the purest or characteristic colour of the series. Examples, sapphire, rock-salt, kyanite. 7- Smalt-blue is Berlin-blue, with much white, and a trace of green. Examples, pale-coloured smalt, named eschel, earthy blue iron, earthy blue copper, and some varieties of gypsum. 8. Duck-blue is a dark blue colour, composed of blue, much green, and a little black. Example, ceylanite. 9- Indigo-blue is a deep blue colour, composed of blue, with a considerable portion of black, and a 2. Grey. little green. Example, earthy blue iron of Eckards1. Lead-grey is ash-grey with a small portion of berg, in Thuringia. blue, and possesses metallic lustre. Example, lead10. Sky-blue is a pale blue colour, composed of glance. blue, green, and a little white. It is the colour of a 2. Bluish-grey is ash-grey mixed with a little blue. clear sky, hence its name. Example, lenticular copper. Example, limestone.

422 Mineralogy.

MINERALOGY. small portion of red and greyish-white. Examples, Mineralogy. 5. Green. 1. Verdigris-green is emerald-green mixed with Saxon and Brazilian topaz. 11. Cream-yellow, or Isabella-yellow, contains more much Berlin-blue and a little white. Example, red and grey than the wine-yellow, and also a little copper-green and green Siberian felspar. 2. Celandine-green is verdigris-green mixed with brown. Examples, bole from Strigau and compact ash-grey. Examples, green earth, Siberian and limestone. 12. Or'ange-yellow is lemon-yellow with carmineBrazilian beryl. red. It is the colour of the rind of the ripe orange. 3. Mountain-green is emerald-green mixed with much blue, and a little yellowish-grey; or verdi- Example, uran-ochre. gris-green with yellowish-grey. Examples, beryl 7. Red. and glassy actynolite. 4. Leek-green is emerald-green, with bluish-grey 1. Aurora, or morning-red, carmine-red mixed and a little brown. Examples, nephrite and common with much lemon-yellow. Example, red orpiment. actynolite. 2. Hyacinth-red is carmine-red mixed with lemon5. Emerald-green is the characteristic or pure un- yellow, and a minute portion of brown; or auroramixed green. Example, emerald. red mixed with a minute portion of brown. Ex6. Apple-green is emerald-green mixed with a amples, hyacinth and tile-ore. little greyish-white. Example, chryoprase. 3. Tile-red is hyacinth-red mixed with greyish7. Grass-green is emerald-green mixed with a white. The colour of tiles or bricks. Example, little lemon yellow. Example, uranite. porcelain jasper. 8. Blackish-green is pistachio-green mixed with a 4. Scarlet.red is carmine-red mixed with a very considerable portion of black. Example, augite. little lemon-yellow. Example, light-red cinnabar 9. Pistachio-green is emerald-green mixed with from Wolfstem. more yellow than in grass-green, and a small por5. Blood-red is scarlet-red mixed with a small tion of brown. Examples, chrysolite and epidote. portion of black. Examples, pyrope and jasper. 10. Asparagus-green is pistachio-green mixed 6. Flesh-red is blood-red mixed with greyishwith a little greyish white; or emerald-green mix- white. Examples, felspar and calc-spar. ed with yellow and a little brown. Examples, gar7. Copper-red scarcely differs from the preceding net, olivenite, and beryl. variety, but in possessing metallic lustre. Example, 11. Olive-green is grass-green mixed with much native copper. brown, and a little grey. Examples, common gar8. Carmine-red is the characteristic colour. Exnet, olivenite, and pitch-stone. ample, spinel, particularly in thin splinters. 12. Oil-green is emerald-green mixed with yel9- Cochineal-red is carmine-red mixed with bluishlow, brown, and grey; or pistachio-green, with grey. Example, dark-red cinnabar. much yellow and light ash-grey. Examples, fuller’s* 10. Crimson-red is carmine-red mixed with a conearth and beryl. siderable portion of blue. Example, oriental ruby. 13. Siskin-green is emerald-green mixed with much 11. Columbine-red is carmine-red with more blue lemon-yellow and a little white. Example, uran mica. than the preceding variety, and, what is characteristic for this colour, a little black. Example, preci6. Yellow. ous garnet. 1. Sulphur-yelloxu is lemon-yellow mixed with much 12. Rose-red is cochineal-red mixed with white. emerald-green and white. Example, native sulphur. Examples, red manganese and quartz. 2. Brass-yello'w differs from the preceding yellow 13. Peach-blossom-red is crimson-red mixed with principally in having metallic lustre; it contains a white. Example, red cobalt-ochre. small portion of grey. Example, copper pyrites. 14. Cherry-red is crimson-red mixed with a con3. Stratv-yellotv is sulphur-yellow mixed with much siderable portion of brownish-black. Examples, greyish-white. Example, yellow cobalt ochre. spinel, red antimony, and precious garnet. 4. Bronze-yelloxu is brass-yellow mixed with a 15. Brownish-red is blood-red mixed with brown. little steel-grey and a minute portion of reddishExample, clay iron-stone. brown. Example, iron pyrites. 5. Wax-yellow is lemon-yellow mixed with red8. Brown. dish-brown and a little ash-grey; or it may be considered as honey-yellow with greyish-white. Ex1. Reddish-brown is chesnut-brown mixed with a amples, opal and yellow lead-spar. little red and yellow ; or chesnut brown with a small 6. Honey-yellow is sulphur-yellow mixed with portion of aurora-red. Example, brown-blende from chesnut-brown. Examples, fluor-spar and beryl. the Hartz. 7• Lemon-yellow is the pure unmixed colour. It 2. Clove-brown is chesnut-brown mixed with cois the colour of the rind of ripe lemons. Example, chineal-red and a little black. It is the colour of yellow orpiment. the clove. Examples, rock-crystal and brown he8. Gold-yellow is the preceding colour with me- matite. tallic lustre. Example, native gold. 3. Hair-brown is clove-brown mixed with ash9- Ochre-yellow is lemon-yellow mixed with a grey. Example, wood-opal. considerable quantity of light chesnut-brown. Ex4. Broccoli-browti is chesnut-brown mixed with amples, yellow earth and jasper. much blue, and a small portion of green and red. 10. Wine-yellow is lemon-yellow mixed with a Example, zircon. 4

M I N E R Mineralogy. 5. Chesnut-bro'wn is the characteristic or pure w^^^hrown colour. Example,, Egyptian jasper. 6- Yellovcish-broxvn is chesnut-brown mixed with a considerable portion of lemon-yellow. Examples, iron-flint and jasper. 7. Pinchbeck-brovon is yellowish-brown with metallic lustre. Rather the colour of tarnished pinchbeck. Example, mica. 8. Wood-bro'wn is yellowish-brown mixed with much pale ash-grey. Examples, mountain wood and bituminous wood. 9. Liver-broxun is chesnut-brown mixed with olive-green and ash-grey. The colour of boiled liver. Example, common jasper. 10. Blackish-brown is chesnut-brown mixed with black. Examples, mineral pitch from Neufchatel and moor coal.

A L 0 G Y. 423 d. Reddish,—native bismuth. Mineralogy. II. Variegated. The variegated, or party-coloured, are distinguished according to the colour of their basis. Of these the following are enumerated in the tabular view. a. Pavonine, or peacock-tail tarnish. This is an assemblage of yellow, green, blue, red, and brown colours, on a yellow ground. The colours are nearly equal in proportion, and are never precisely distinct, but always pass more or less into one another. Example, copper pyrites. b. Iridescent, or rainbotv tarnish. In this variety the colours are red, blue, green, and yellow, on a grey ground. It is more beautiful and brighter than the preceding. Example, specular iron-ore or ironglance of Elba. c. Columbine, or pigeon-neck tarnish. The colours II, The Play of the Colours. are the same as in the preceding, with this differIf we look on a mineral which possesses this pro- ence, that the tints of colour are paler, and the red perty, we observe, on turning it slowly, besides its predominates. Example, native bismuth of Schneecommon colours, many others, which are bright, berg. d. Tempcred-steel tarn ish. It consists of very pale change very rapidly, and are distributed in small spots. We observe it in the diamond when cut, blue, red, green, and very little yellow, on a grey ground. Example, grey cobalt. and in precious opal.

III. The Changeability of the Colours. When the surface of a mineral, which we turn in different directions, exhibits, besides its common colours, different bright colours, that do not change so rapidly, are fewer in number, and occur in larger patches than in the play of the colour, it is said to exhibit what is called the changeability of the colours. The changeability of colour is seen only in particular directions, the play of colour in all directions. We distinguish two kinds of this phenomenon. 1 st, That which is observed by looking in different positions on the mineral, as in Labrador felspar. 9,d, That observed by looking through it, as in the common opal, -which shows a milk-white colour when we look on its surface, but when held between the eye and the light is wine-yellow. IV. The Iridescence. When a mineral exhibits the colours of the prism or the rainbow, arranged in parallel, and sometimes variously curved layers, it is said to be iridescent. It is to be observed by, 1st, Looking ow the mineral only, as in precious opal, adularia, &c. Zd, Both by looking on the mineral and through it, as in calcareous spar crossed by thin veins, some arragonites, rainbow calcedony, and some amethysts. V. Tarnished Colours. A mineral is said to be tarnished when it shows on its external surface, or on that of the distinct concretions; fixed colours different from those on its interior or fresh fracture. Tarnished colours are simple or variegated. I. Simple. a. Grey,—white cobalt. b. Black,—native arsenic. c. .firotrrc,—-magnetic pyrites.

II. Common and Particular External Forms 1. Common External Shape. Common external shapes are those in which there are neither a determinate number of planes meeting under determinate angles, nor any resemblance to known natural or artificial bodies. As they occur more frequently than the other shapes, they are named Common external shapes. Six different kinds are enumerated by Werner, which are distinguished according to their relative length, breadth, and thickness, their relative magnitude, and their connections with other minerals. The kinds are massive, disseminated, in angular pieces, in grains, in plates, and in membranes. 1. Massive is that common external shape which is from the size of a hazel-nut to the greatest magnitude, and whose dimensions, in length, breadth, and thickness, are nearly alike. It occurs imbedded in other minerals, and it is intermixed with them at their line of junction. Example, Galena or lead-glance. 2. Disseminated is from the size of a hazel-nut until it is scarcely visible, and its dimensions, in length, breadth, and thickness, are nearly alike. It is imbedded, and is intermixed with the inclosing mineral at the line of junction. 3. In angular pieces. Minerals having an angular shape, in which the length, breadth, and thickness are nearly alike, which are found loose, or slightly imbedded, and without any intermixture with the inclosing mineral at the line of junction, and from the'size of a hazel-nut and upwards, are said to occur in angular pieces. It is distinguished from the massive by its occurring either loose, or not intermixed with the basis at the line of junction. Of this external shape there are two kinds : a. Sharp-cornered, as in quartz. b. Blunt-cornered, as in common opal.

MINERALOGY. 424 Mineralogy. 4. In grains. Minerals having a roundish form, perforated tubes, which are somewhat longitudinally Mineralogy, ' and imbedded or loose, and not much larger than a knotty. Example, calc-sinter. k. Claviform is the reverse of stalactitic ; it is hazel-nut, are said to occur in grains. 5. In plates. Minerals which occur in external composed of club-shaped parallel rods, which adshapes, whose length and breadth are great in com- here by their thin extremities. Example, compact parison of their thickness, in which the thickness is black hematite. 1. Fruticose. This external shape has the appearnot equal throughout, and is so considerable as to allow the fracture to be distinguished, are said to occur ance of cauliflower. Example, calc-sinter. in plates. The maximum thickness of plates is half 2. Roundish Particular External Shapes. an inch. Example, red silver. a. Globular. Under this are comprehended: 6. In membranes or jlakes. This shape is distina. Perfect globular or spherical, as in alumguished from the former by its thinness, as it never slate. greatly exceeds the thickness of common paper, and /3. Imperfect globular, as in calcedony. the fracture cannot be seen. Example, iron py7. Ovoidal or elliptical. Examples, rounded rites. masses of quartz in puddingstone. II. Particular External Shape. 5. Spheroidal. When the spherical is compressParticular external shapes differ from the common* ed the spheroidal is formed. Example, Egypexternal shapes, in bearing a resemblance to natural tian jasper. or artificial bodies, and in being far more characterise. Amygdaloidal. When the ovoidal is comtic and varied in their aspect. There are four differpressed in the direction of its length, the ent sets, entitled, longish, roundish, flat, and cavernous. amygdaloidal is formed. Example, zeolite. 1. Longish particular external shapes. b. Botryoidal consists of large segments of small a. Dentiform. Adheres by its thick extremity, balls, which are irregularly heaped together, and have and becomes gradually thinner, incurvated, and at many interstices. It resembles grapes, whence its length terminates in a free point, so that it resembles name. Example, hematite. a canine tooth, whence its name. Example, native c. Reniform consists of small segments of large silver. balls, which are so closely set together, that no interb. Filiform. Adheres by its thicker extremity, stices are formed. Example, calcedony. and terminates by an almost imperceptible diminud. Tuberose. This shape consists of irregular tion of thickness, and is usually curved in different roundish or longish elevations and depressions. Exdirections. It is thinner and longer than the denti- ample, flint. form. Example, native silver. e. Fused-like or liquiform. This consists of nuc. Capillary. When the fiHform becomes longer merous very flat rounded elevations, which are geand thinner, it forms the capillary. It is generally nerally depressed in the middle. Example, leadmuch entangled, and sometimes the threads are so glance. near each other that it passes into the compact. ExS. Flat Particular External Shapes. ample, native silver. d. Reticulated is composed of many straight a. Specular has on one side, seldom on two oppothreads, which are sometimes parallel and sometimes site sides, a straight smooth shining surface. It ocmeet each other at right angles, and form a net-like curs in veins. Example, galena or lead-glance. shape. Example, native silver. b. In leaves. In this external shape there are thin e. Dendritic. In this external shape we can ob- leaves, which are either irregularly curved, or are serve a trunk, branches, and twigs, which are dis- straight, and have throughout the same thickness. tinguished from each other by their thickness, the It occurs frequently in native gold. trunk being the thickest. Example, native copper. 4. Cavernous Particular External Shapes. /. Coralloidal. When two or three branches, having rounded or pointed extremities, proceed from a. Cellular. A mineral is said to be cellular, when one stem, the coralloidal external shape is formed. it is composed of straight or bent tables, which cross There are usually many stems together. Example, each other in such a manner as to form empty spaces calc-sinter. or cells. Example, quartz. g. Stalactitle. A mineral is said to possess a stab. Impressed. That is, when one mineral shows lactitic external shape, when it consists of different the impression of any particular or regular external straight, more or less lengthened rods, which are shape of another mineral. It borders on the cellular thickest at their attachment, and become narrower shape, and is formed when a newer mineral is depoat their free extremity, which is rounded or pointed. sited over an older, the form of which it assumes, Example, calc-sinter. and retains even after the impressing mineral has h. Cylindrical consists of long, rounded, straight, been destroyed or removed. imperforated, usually parallel rods, which are attachc. Perforated consist of long vermicular cavities, ed at both extremities, and are generally thicker at which occupy but an inconsiderable portion of the tlie extremities than the middle. The interstices are mass, and terminate on the surface in small holes. either empty or filled up with another mineral. Ex- When the holes become very numerous, it passes ample, galena or lead-glance. into spongiform. Example, bog iron-ore. i. Tubiform consists of long, usually single. d. Corroded. A mineral is said to be corroded when 8

MINERALOGY. 425 Mineralogy, it is traversed with numerous hardly perceptible 2. Granulated. When the surface appears like Mineralogy, shagreen, it is said to be granulated. roundish holes. Example, quartz. 3. Rough. This kind of surface is marked with 6c Amorphous is composed of numerous roundish and angular parts that form inequalities, between small scarcely visible elevations, which we can hardwhich there are equally irregular hollows. Ex- ly discover but by the feel. It has little or no lustre. ample, silver-glance or sulphuretted silver. Example, rolled pieces of common quartz. f. Vesicular. When a mineral has distributed 4. Smooth. Here there is no perceptible inequalithrough its interior many single, usually round, el- ty, and the surface reflects more light than the preliptical, and spheroidal, also amygdaloidal, or irregu- ceding kinds of external surface. Example, fluorlarly-shaped cavities, it is said to be vesicular. Ex- spar. 5. Streamed. This kind of surface is marked with ample, wacke and lava. line-like elevations. It is either simply streaked or doubly streaked, III. Distinct Concretions. a. Simply streaked, when the line-like elevations Distinct concretions are those parts into which run but in one direction. minerals are naturally divided, and which can be a. Longitudinally streaked. When the streaks are separated from one another, without breaking through parallel with the length of the lateral planes. the solid or fresh part of the mineral. In describing * Example, topaz. them, we have to attend to the following appearan/3. Transversely streaked. When the streaks are ces. 1. Their shape; 2. Their surface; and, 3, parallel with the breadth of the lateral planes. Their lustre. Example, rock-crystal. y. Diagonally streaked. When the streaks are 1. Shape of the Distinct Concretions. parallel with the diagonal of the planes. ExThey are granular, lamellar, prismatic, radiatample, garnet. ed, and fibrous. 8. Alternately streaked. When transverse and 1. Granular distinct concretions are those in which longitudinal streaks occur on alternate planes. tlie length, breadth, and thickness, are nearly alike. Example, cubic iron-pyrites. Primitive limestone or marble is composed of granub. Doubly streaked, when the streaks run in diflar distinct concretions. ferent directions. This is of two kinds. 2. Lamellar distinct concretions are those in which a. Plumiformly. When the streaks run obliquely the length and breadth are nearly equal, and much towards a principal streak, like the disposition more considerable than the thickness. Lamellar of the parts of a feather. Example, plumose heavy-spar affords a good example of this kind of native bismuth. concretion. 0. Reticularly. When the streaks either cross 3. Prismatic distinct concretions are those in which each other in a promiscuous manner, or under the length is very considerable, in comparison of right angles, forming a kind of flat net-work. the thickness, or in the form of irregular prisms. Example, silver-white cobalt. Examples, amethyst and prismatic heavy spar. c. Drusy. When a crystal is coated with a num4. Radiated distinct concretions are those in which ber of minute crystals of the same kind as the mithe form is then prismatic, differing from the pre- neral itself, so that the new surface acquires a scaly ceding in being narrower, and in having the form of aspect, it is denominated drusy. Example, common rays. The radiated fracture of Werner belongs to iron-pyrites. this division. Example, radiated iron pyrites. V. Lustre. 5. Fibrous distinct concretions are those in form of Here we have to consider the intensity and the fibres. The fibrous fracture of Werner is included sort of lustre. under diis head. Example, actynolite. 2. Surface ofi the Distinct Concretions. The surface varies considerably; in some it is smooth, as in hematite; in others it is streaked, as in schorl, or it is uneven, as in hornblende. 3. Lustre of the Distinct Concretions. Here the varieties of lustre are the same as already enumerated, and therefore require no particular illustration. IV. Surface. The following are the varieties of this character : 1. Uneven. This, of all the kinds of external surface, presents the greatest and most irregular elevations and depressions, yet they are not so considerable as to alter the external shape. Example, surface of balls of calcedony.

3. The Intensity of the Lustre. Of this there arefive different degrees. 1. Splendent. A fossil is said to be splendent, when in full day-light (not in the sun-shine) it is visible at a great distance. Example, galena or leadglance. 2. Shining. When a mineral at a distance reflects but a weak light, it is said to be shining. Example, heavy-spar. 3. Glistening. This degree of lustre is only observable when the mineral is near us, and at no greater distance than arms-length. Example, porcelain-jasper. 4. Glimmering. If the surface of a mineral, when held near to the eye in full and clear day-light, presents a very great number of small faintly shining points, it is said to be glimmering. Example, red hematite.

MINERALOGY. 1. Cubic, which occur in minerals possessing a Mineralogy, Mineralogy. 5. Dull. When a mineral does not reflect any rectangular three-fold cleavage, as galena, or lead-v-w light, or is entirely destitute of lustre, it is said to be glance, and rock-salt. dull. Example, chalk. 2. Rhomboidal, or oblique-angular, which occur in 2. The Sort of Lustre. minerals having a three-fold cleavage, as calcareousspar. The following are the different kinds of lustre : 3. Tetrahedral, or three-sided pyramidal and octa1. Metallic lustre, which is always combined with opacity. It is divided into perfect and imperfect. hedral, occur in minerals having a four-fold cleavage, The perfect occurs in native metals, the imperfect in which the folia meet under equal angles, as in fluor-spar. in tantalum ore. 4. Dodecahedral. Fragments of this form occur 2. Adamantine. Of this lustre there are two varieties, viz. metallic adamantine, zx\&. common adaman~ in minerals having a six-fold cleavage. Example, tine. White lead spar is an example of the first, and rock-crystal. II. Irregular fragments are such as have no regudiamond of the second. 3. Pearly is divided into common and metallic-like,. lar form. The following are the different varieties: 1. Cuneiform, in which the breadth and thickness Mica is an example of the first, and schiller-spar of are much less than the length, and gradually and rethe second. gularly diminish in magnitude from one end to the 4. Resinous or waxy. Example, pitch-stone. other. Example, radiated zeolite. 5. Vitreous or glassy. Example, rock-crystal. 2. Splintery, in which the breadth and thickness VI. The Fracture. are less considerable than the length, but without Fracture surfaces, or planes, are those produced diminution of magnitude from one extremity to the on breaking a mineral. The following are the prin- other. Example, asbestus. 3. Tabular, in which the breadth and length are cipal kinds: ]. Splintery. When, on a nearly even fracture more considerable than the thickness. Example, sprface, small wedge-shaped or scaly parts are to be clay-slate. 4. Indeterminate angular, in which the length, observed, which adhere by their thicker ends, and allow light to pass through, we say that the fracture breadth, and thickness, are in general nearly alike, is splintery. It sometimes passes into even. Ex- but the edges differ much in regard to sharpness, which gives rise to the following distinctions : ample, quartz. a. Very sharp-edged, as in obsidian. 2. Even is that kind of fracture in which the surb. Sharp-edged, as in common quartz, face is nearly even, or without inequalities. Exc Rather sharp-edged, as in basalt. ample, Lydian-stone. d. Rather blunt-edged, as in pumice. 3. Conchoidal is composed of concave and convex e. Blunt-edged, as in gypsum. roundish depressions and elevations, which are more f. Very blunt-edged, as in loam. or less regular. When regular, they are accompanied with concentric ridges, as in many shells, and hence present a conchoidal appearance. Example, VIII. The Transparency. obsidian. 4. Uneven. In this kind of fracture the surface This character presents the five following degrees: is marked with numerous angular elevations. These 1. When a mineral, either in thick or thin pieces, inequalities are termed the grain, so that we have allows the rays of light to pass through it so comcoarse and fine-grained uneven fractures. Example, pletely, that we can clearly distinguish objects placopper-pyrites. ced behind it, it is said to be transparent. It is ei5. Earthy. When the fracture-surface shows a ther simply transparent, that is, when the body seen great number of very small elevations and depres- through it appears single, as in mica and selenite; sions, which make it appear rough, it is called earthy. or duplicating, when the body seen through it apExample, chalk. pears double, as in calcareous-spar. 6. Hackly. When the fracture-surface consists of 2. Semi-transparent. When objects can be disnumerous small slightly-bent sharp inequalities, it is cerned only through a thin piece, and then always said to be hackly. Example, native copper. appear as if seen through a cloud. Example, calce7. Slaty. In this kind of fracture the mineral dony. splits into tables or slates which are more or less 3. Translucent. When the rays of light penetrate perfect. Example, common roof-slate. into the mineral and illuminate it, but objects cannot be observed either through thick or thin pieces, VII. The Shape of the Fragments. it is said to be translucent. Example, pitch-stone. Fragments are those shapes which are formed 4. Translucent on the edges. When light shines when a mineral is so forcibly struck, that masses, through the thinnest edges and corners, or when the having surrounding fracture-surfaces, are separated edges are illuminated in the same degree as the whole from it. mineral in the immediately preceding variety of transThe fragments are either regular or irregular. parency, it is said to be translucent on the edges. I. Regular fragments are inclosed in a certain num- Example, hornstone. ber of regular planes, that meet under determinate 5. Opaque. When, even on the thinnest edges of angles. The following are the varieties of regular a mineral, no light shines through, it is said to. be fragments: opaque, as in chalk.

Mineralogy.

MINERALOGY. 427 IX. The Opalescence, order to distinguish the different degrees of greasi- Mineralogy, NSome minerals^ when held in particular directions, ness, the following distinctions are employed: 1. Very greasy, as talc and graphite. reflect from single spots in their interior, a coloured 2. Greasy, as steatite and fuller’s earth. shining lustre, and this is what is understood by opa3. Rather greasy, as asbestus and polished serpenlescence. tine. X. The Streak. 4. Meagre, as cobalt. By the streak we understand the appearance XVII. The Smell. which minerals exhibit when scratched or rubbed with a hard body, as a knife or steel. In some inOf this we can give no definition, and shall therestances, the colour of the mineral is changed; in fore illustrate it by the minerals in which it occurs. others, the lustre, and frequently neither colour nor It is observed under the three following circumlustre are altered. stances : 1. Spontaneously emitted; in which case it is. XI. The Soiling or Colouring. a. Bituminous, as mineral oil and mineral pitch. When a mineral, taken between the fingers, or b. Faintly sulphureous, as natural sulphur. drawn across another body, leaves some particles, or c. Faintly bitter, as radiated grey antimony. a trace, it is said to soil or colour. 2. After breathing on it, in which a clayey-like smell is produced, as in hornblende and chlorite. XII. The Tenacity. 3. Excited by friction. By tenacity is understood the relative mobility, or a. Urinous, in stink-stone. the different degrees of cohesion of the particles of b. Sulphureous, in iron-pyrites. minerals. The degrees of tenacity are the followc. Garlick-like, or arsenical, in native arsenic ing; _ and arsenic-pyrites. 1. Brittle. A mineral is said to be brittle, when, d. Empyreumatic, in quartz and rock-crystal. on cutting it with a knife, it emits a grating noise, XVIII. The Taste, and the particles fly away in the form of dust, and This character occurs principally in the saline leave a rough surface, which has in general less class, for which it is highly characteristic. lustre than the fracture. Example, quartz. The varieties of it are, 2. Sectile or Mild. On cutting minerals possess1. Sweetish taste, common salt. ing this degree of tenacity, the particles lose their 2. Sweetish astringent, natural alum and rock connection in a considerable degree, but this takes place without noise, and they do not fly off, but re- butter. 3. Styptic, blue and green vitriol. main on the knife. Example, galena or lead-glance. 4. Saltly bitter, natural Epsom salt. 3. Ductile. Minerals possessing this degree of 5. Saltly cooling, nitre. tenacity can be cut into slices with a knife, and ex6. Alkaline, natural soda. tended under the hammer. Example, native gold. 7- Urinous, natural sal-ammoniac. XIII. The Frangibility, By frangibility is understood the resistance which System of Arrangement of Simple Minerals. minerals oppose, when we attempt to break them inCLASS I. to pieces or fragments. It must not be confounded with hardness. Quartz is hard, and hornblende comOrder I.—Gas* paratively soft; yet the latter is much more difficultGenus I. Hydrogen Gas. ly frangible than the former. 1. Pure Hydrogen Gas. 2. Carburetted Hydrogen Gas. XIV. The Flexibility, 3. Sulphuretted Hydrogen Gas. This term expresses the property possessed by 4. Phosphuretted Hydrogen Gas. some minerals, of bending without breaking. Flexible minerals are either elastical Jlexible, that is, if Genus II. Atmospheric Air. 1. Pure Atmospheric Air. when bent they spring back again into their former direction, as mica; or common Jlexible, when they Order II.—Water. can be bent in different directions without breaking, and remain in the direction in which they have been Genus I. Atmospheric Water. 1. Pure Atmospheric Water. bent, as molybdena, gypsum, talc, asbestus, and all Genus II. Sea Water. malleable minerals. 1. Common Sea Water. XV. Adhesion to the Tongue. Order III.—Acid. This character occurs only in such minerals as Genus I. Carbonic Acid. possess the property of absorbing moisture, which 1. Aeriform Carbonic Acid. causes them tp adhere to the tongue. Example, Genus II. Muriatic Acid. meerschaum. 1. Aeriform Muriatic Acid. XVI. The Unctuosity. Genus III. Sulphuric Acid. 1. Aeriform Sulphuric Acid. Some minerals feel greasy, others meagre ; and in 3 i VOL. V. PART II.

MINERALOGY. 4‘28 Genus V. Baryte. . ^ Mineralogy. Mineralogy. 2. Liquid Sulphuric Acid. 1. Pyramido-prismatic Baryte, or Stron—Genus IV. Boracic Acid. tianite. 1. Prismatic Boracic Acid. 2. Di-Prismatic Baryte, or Witherite. Genus V. Arsenic Acid. 3. Prismatic Baryte, or Heavy-Spar. 1. Octahedral Arsenic Acid. 4. Prismatoidal Baryte, or Celestine. Order IV.—Salt. Genus VI. Lead-Spar. 1. Di-Prismatic Lead-Spar, or White Genus I. Natron. and Black Lead-Spar 1. Prismatic Natron. 2. Rhomboidal Lead-Spar, or Green and Genus II. Glauber Salt. Brown Lead-Spar. 1. Prismatic Glauber Salt. 3. Hemiprismatic Lead-Spar, or Red Genus III. Nitre. Lead-Spar. 1. Prismatic Nitre. 4. Pyramidal Lead-Spar, or Yellow Genus IV. Rock Salt. Lead-Spar. 1. Hexahedral Rock Salt. 5. Prismatic Lead-Spar, or Sulphate of Genus V. Sal-Ammoniac. Lead. 1. Octahedral Sal Ammoniac. * 1. Corneous Lead-Spar—2. ArseniGenus VI. Vitriol. ate of Lead.—3. Plomb Gomme. 1. Hemiprismatic Vitriol, or Green Vitriol. Order IIL—Kerate. 2. Prismatic Vitriol, or Blue Vitriol. 3. Pyramidal Vitriol, or White Vitriol. Genus I. Corneous Silver. Genus VII. Epsom Salt. 1. Hexahedral Corneous Silver. 1. Prismatic Epsom Salt. Genus II. Corneous Mercuby. 1. Pyramidal Corneous Mercury. Genus VIII. Alum. 1. Octahedral Alum. Genus IX. Borax. Order IV.—Malachite. 1. Prismatic Borax. Genus I. Copper Green. Genus X. Glauberite. 1. Uncleavable Copper Green. 1. Prismatic Glauberite. Genus II. Liriconite. 1. Prismatic Liriconite, or Lenticular CLASS II. Arseniate of Copper. 2. Hexahedral Liriconite, or Cubical Order I—Haloide. Arseniate of Iron. Genus I. Gypsum. Genus III. Olivenite. 1. Prismatoidal Gypsum, or Common 1. Prismatic Olivenite, or Prismatic ArGypsum. seniate of Copper. 2. Prismatic Gypsum, or Anhydrite. 2. Di-Prismatic Olivenite. Genus II. Cryolite. Genus IV. Blur Malachite, or Blue Copper. 1. Prismatic Cryolite. 1. Prismatic Blue Malachite. Genus HI. Alum Stone. * Velvet Blue Copper. 1. Rhomboidal Alum Stone. Genus V. Emerald Malachite. Genus IV. Fluor. 1. Rhomboidal Emerald Malachite. 1. Octahedral Fluor. Genus VI. Green Malachite. Genus V. Apatite. 1. Prismatic Green Malachite, or Phos1. Rhomboidal Apatite. phat of Copper. Genus VI. Limestone. 2. Di-Prismatic Green Malachite, or 1. Prismatic Limestone, or Arragonite. Common Malachite. 2. Rhomboidal Limestone. * Atacamite. 3. Macrotypous Limestone. 1. Prismatic Atacamite, or Muriat of 4. Brachytypous Limestone, or RhombCopper Spar. Order V—Mica. Order II—Baryte. Genus I. Sparry Iron. 1. Rhomboidal Sparry Iron. * Spharosiderite. Genus II. Red Manganese. 1. Rhomboidal Red Manganese. * Manganese Spar. Genus III. Calamine. 1. Prismatic, or Electric Calamine. 2. Rhomboidal Calamine. Genus TV. Tungsten, or Scheelium. 1. Pyramidal Tungsten.

Genus I. Copper-Mica. 1. Rhomboidal Copper-Mica, or Micaceous Arseniate of Copper. 2. Prismatic Copper-Mica. Genus II. Uran-Mica, or Uranite. 1. Pyramidal Uran-Mica. * Uran-Ochre. Genus IIL Cobalt-Mica, or Red Cobalt. 1. Prismatic Red Cobalt. * Cobalt-Ochre. 1. Black Cobalt-Ochre.

MINER Mineralogy. 2. Brown Cobalt-Ochre. ^ 3. Yellow Cobalt-Ochre. Genus IV. Antimony-Mica, or White Antimony. 1. Prismatic White Antimony. * Antimony Ochre. Genus V. Blue Iron, or Iron-Mica. 1. Prismatic Blue Iron, or Phosphat of Iron. Genus VI. Graphite. 1. Rhomboidal Graphite. Genus VII. Talc-Mica. 1. Prismatic Talc-Mica, or Talc. * 1. Native Magnesia, or Hydrate of Magnesia.—2. Ophite—3. Pikrolite. -—4. Nephrite.—5. Steatite, or Soapstone.—6. Figurestone, or Algalmatolite.—7- Magnesite—8. Meerschaum.—9. Lithomarge.—10. Mountain Soap.—11. Bole. 2. Rhomboidal Talc-Mica, or Common Mica. * Pinite. Genus VIII. Pearl-Mica. 1. Rhomboidal Pearl-Mica.

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Genus VIII. Augite. _ Mineralogy. 1. Paratomous Augite, or Common Au* gite, &c. 2. Hemiprismatic Augite, or Hornblende, &c. 3. Prismatoidal Augite, or Epidote. 4. Prismatic Augite, or Tabular Spar. Genus IX. Azure-Spar. 1. Prismatic Azure-Spar, or Lazulite. 2. Prismatoidal Azure-Spar, or Blue Spar. * 1. Azure-Stone, or Lapis Lazuli.— 2. Hauyne—3. Calaitc, or Mineral Turquois. — 4. Amblygonile. —5. Diaspore.—6. Gehlenite. Order VII-—Gem. Genus I. Andalusite. 1. Prismatic Andalusite. * Fibrolite. ** Chiastolite. Genus II. Corundum. 1. Dodecahedral Corundum, or Spinel. 2. Octahedral Corundum, or Automolite. 3. Rhomboidal Corundum, or Sapphire. 4. Prismatic Corundum, or Chrysoberyl. Genus III. Diamond. 1. Octahedral Diamond. Genus IV. Topaz. 1. Prismatic Topaz. Genus V. Emerald. 1. Prismatic Emerald, or Euclase. 2. Rhomboidal Emerald. Genus VI. Quartz. 1. Prismatic Quartz, or lolite. 2. Rhomboidal Quartz. 3. Uncleavable Quartz. 4. Fusible Quartz. Genus VII. Axinite. 1. Prismatic Axinite. Genus VIII. Chrysolite. 1. Prismatic Chrysolite. Genus IX. Boracite. 1. Octahedral Boracite. Genus X. Tourmaline. 1. Rhomboidal Tourmaline. Genus XI. Garnet. 1. Pyramidal Garnet, or Vesuvian. 2. Tetrahedral Garnet, or Helvine. 3. Dodecahedral Garnet. 4. Prismatic Garnet, or Cinnamon-Stone. 5. Prismatoidal Garnet, or Grenatite. * Aplome. * Eudialite. Genus XII. Zircon. 1. Pyramidal Zircon. Genus XIII. Gadolinite. 1. Prismatic Gadolinite.

Order VI—Spar. Genus I. Schiller-Spar. 1. Diatomous Schiller-Spar, or Common Schiller-Spar. 2. Axotomous Schiller-Spar, or Green Diallage. 3. Hemiprismatic Schiller-Spar, or Bronzite. 4. Prismatoidal Schiller-Spar, or Hypersthene. 5. Prismatic Schiller-Spar, or Anthophyllite. Genus II. Kyanite. 1. Prismatic Kyanite. Genus III. Spodumene. 1. Prismatic Spodumene. Genus IV. Prehnite. 1; Axotomous Prehnite. * Karpholite. Genus V. Datolite. 1. Prismatic Datolite. Genus VI. Zeolite; 1. Trapezoidal Zeolite, or Leucite. 2. Dodecahedral Zeolite, or Sodalite. 3. Hexahedral Zeolite, or Analcime. 4. Paratomous Zeolite, or Cross-stone. 5. Rhomboidal Zeolite, or Chabasite. 6' Diatomous Zeolite, or Laumonite. 7. Prismatic Zeolite, or Mesotype. 8. Prismatoidal Zeolite, or Stilbite. 9. Hemiprismatic Zeolite. 10. Pyramidal Zeolite, or Albine. Order VIII.—Ore. 11. Axotomous Zeolite, or Apophyllite. Genus I. Titanium-Ore. Genus VI. Petalite. 1. Prismatic Titanium-Ore, or Sphene. 1. Prismatic Petalite. 2. Peritomous Titanium-Ore, or Rutile. Genus VII. Felspar. 3. Pyramidal Titanium-Ore, or Octahe1. Rhomboidal Felspar, or Nepheline. drite. 2. Prismatic Felspar, or Common Felspar. Genus II. Zinc-Ore. 3. Pyramidal Felspar, or Scapolite, &c. 1. Prismatic Zinc-Ore, or Red Zinc-Ore, * Elaolite.

MINERALOGY. 430 * 1. Osmium—-2. Palladium—3. ^in*ral°gy Mineralogy. Genus III. Red Copper-Ore. Nickel. 1. Octahedral Red Copper-Ore. Genus IV. Tin-Ore. Order X.—Pyrites. 1. Pyramidal Tin-Ore. Genus I. Nickel Pyrites, or Copper-Nickel Genus V. Wolfram-Ore. 1. Prismatic Nickel Pyrites. I. Prismatic Wolfram. * Nickel Ochre. Genus VI. Tantalum-Ore. ** Black Nickel. 1. Prismatic Tantalum-Ore. Genus II. Arsenic Pyrites. * Tantalite. 1. Axotomous Arsenic Pyrites. Genus VII. Uranium-Ore. 2. Prismatic Arsenic Pyrites. ]. Uncleavable Uranium-Ore. Genus III. Cobalt Pyrites. Genus VIII. Cerium-Ore. 1. Hexahedral Cobalt-Pyrites, or Silver1. Uncleavable Cerium-Ore. White Cobalt. * Allanite, or Prismatic Cerium-Ore. 2. Octahedral Cobalt-Pyrites, or Tin** Cerin. « White Cobalt. Genus IX. Chrome-Ore. * Grey Cobalt Pyrites. 1. Prismatic Chrome-Ore, or Chromat ** Cobalt-Kies. of Iron. *** Radiated Tin-White Cobalt PyGenus X. Iron-Ore. rites. 1. Octahedral Iron-Ore, or Magnetic Genus IV. Iron Pyrites. Iron-Ore. 1. Hexahedral Iron-Pyrites. * Titanitic Iron-Ore. ** Iserine. 2. Prismatic Iron-Pyrites. *** Menachanite. 3. Rhomboidal Iron-Pyrites, or Mag2. Rhomboidal Iron-Ore, or Red Ironnetic Pyrites. Ore. 3. Prismatic Iron-Ore, or Brown Iron- Genus V. Copper-Pyrites. 1. Pyramidal Copper-Pyrites, or Yellow Ore. Copper-Pyrites. * Bog Iron-Ore. ** Lievrite. Undetermined Pyrites. Genus XI. Manganese Ore. * 1. Nickeliferous Grey Antimony.—2. 1. Prismatic Manganese-Ore, or Black Common Tin Pyrites. Manganese. * Scaly Brown Manganese-Ore. Order XI.—Glance. 2. Prismatoidal Manganese-Ore, or Grey Manganese. Genus I. Copper-Glance. 1. Tetrahedral Copper-Glance, or Grey * 1. Earthy Grey and Brown Manand Black Copper. ganese-Ore, or Wad.—2. Phosphatof Manganese. 2. Prismatoidal Copper-Glance. 3. Prismatic Copper-Glance, or VitreOrder IX.—Native Metals. ous Copper. * 1. Variegated Copper.—2. ArgentiGenus I. Arsenic. ferous Copper-Glance.—3. Plumbi1. Native Arsenic. Jerous* Copper-Glance—4. TennanGenus II. Tellurium. tiie..—5. Eukairite. 1. Native Tellurium. Genus II. Silver-Glance, or Vitreous Silver. Genus III. Antimony. 1. Hexahedral Silver-Glance. 1. Dodecahedral Antimony. 2. Prismatic Antimony, or Antimonial Genus III. Galena, or Lead-Glance. 1. Hexahedral Galena, or Lead-Glance. Silver. * Blue Lead. Genus IV. Bismuth. 1. Octahedral Bismuth. Genus IV. Tellurium Glance, or Black Tellurium. Genus V. Mercury. 1. Prismatic Tellurium Glance. 1. Liquid Native Mercury. 2. Dodecahedral Mercury, or Native Genus V. Molybdena, or Molybdena Glance. 1. Rhomboidal Molybdena. Amalgam. * Molybdena Ochre. Genus VI. Silver. 1. Hexahedral Silver. Genus VI. Bismuth Glance. Genus VII. Gold,. 1. Prismatic Bismuth-Glance. * Bismuth Ochre. 1. Hexahedral Gold. 4 Genus VIII. Platina. * Acicular Bismuth-Glance, or Needle Ore. 1. Native Platina. Genus IX. Iron. Genus VII. Antimony Glance. Prismatic Antimony-Glance. 1. Octahedral Iron. Prismatoidal Antimony-Glance, or 1. Subsp. Terrestrial Native Iron. 2. Meteoric Native Iron. Grey Antimony. Axotomous Antimony-Glance, or Genus X. Copper. 1. Octahedral Copper. Bournonite. 10

MINERALOGY. Mineralogy. Genus VIII. MeLANE GLANCE. 1. Diprismatic Melane-Glance, Black Antimony-Ore of Werner. 2. Prismatic Melane-Glance, Brittle Silver-Glance of Werner. Order XII.—Blende. Genus I. Manganese-Blende. I. Prismatic Manganese-Blende. Genus II. Zinc-Blende, or Garnet-Blende. J. Doilecahedral Zinc-Blende. Genus III. Antimony-Blende, or Red Antimony. 1. Prismatic Antimony-Blende, or Red Antimony. Genus IV. Ruby Blende. 1. Rhomboidal Ruby-Blende, or Red Silver. 2. Peritomous Ruby-Blende, or Cinnabar. Order XIII—Sulphur. Genus I. Sulphur. 1. Prismatoidal Sulphur, or Yellow Orpiment. 2. Hemi-Prismatic Sulphur, or Red Orpiment. 3. Prismatic Sulphur, or Common Sulphur. CLASS III. Order I.—Resin. Genus I. Mellilite, or Honey-Stone. 1. Pyramidal Mellilite, or Honey-Stone. Genus II. Mineral Resin. 1. Yellow Mineral Resin, or Amber. 2. Fossil Copal. 3. Black Mineral Resin. 4. Retinite. 5. Dysodilite. Order II.—Coal. Genus I. Mineral Coal. 1. Bituminous Mineral-Coal. 2. Glance-Coal.

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grees of hardness ; and the specific gravity. The first Mineralogy, character then given in the Specific Character is the system of crystallization to which the form and cleavage of the species belongs. Then follows, together with its dimensions (if known), the fundamental form, from which all other simple and compound forms are derived. In rhomboids, that edge which ends in the apex of the axis, that is to say, the terminal edge is given ; for instance, in calcareous spar, R=: 105o5'; in isosceles four-sided pyramids, both edges, first the terminal one, and then that on the base, are mentioned; for instance, in pyramidal zircon, P^z^S0^7, 84°20/; and in scalene four-sided pyramids, first, both of the terminal edges, and then that at the basis, are given: thus, in prismatic topaz, P=141°7/, 101°52', 90°55'. In this system, besides the dimension of the finite forms, those of the infinite ones, or of the limits, are mentioned, as in the last example, P+oo =124019', and so on ; which is very convenient, as the cases in which these can be examined occur more frequently than those in which the edges of pyramids can be measured. After this follows the indication of the general aspect of the combinations, explained in the foregoing §§ 63-67, under the denominations of dirhomboidal, hemi-prismatic, &c. Of the former are mentioned the angles at the edges of combination, of the latter that terminal edge, which is formed by the intersection of the remaining faces of the scalene foursided pyramid. With respect to cleavage, the expression “ cleavage, R,” for instance in rhomboidal calcareous spar, means, that this mineral has its cleavage parallel to the faces of a rhomboid, similar to the fundamental form of the species ; “ cleavage P—co . P-joo . [P-f-oo]’’ in pyramidal garnet means that this mineral has its cleavage parallel to the faces of two rectangular prisms, and at the same time perpendicular to their axis; “ cleavage Pr+ oo” in prismatic chrysolite, indicates that the cleavage of this mineral passes at the same time through the axis and the short diagonal of the prism P + oo ; and cleavage

(Pr-f-oo)0 =87042'. Pr-j-oo . Pr-foo ,” expresses, for instance, in paratomous augite* that the indiAPPENDIX. viduals of this species can be cleaved, first parallel to the faces of an obliquangular four-sided prism, Minerals Imperfectly Known. of the given dimensions; and, secondly, parallel to 1. Allophane 2. Bismuthic Silver.—3. Bloedite- planes, which pass through the axis and both diago—4. Fluat of Cerium—5. Conite.—6. Cronstedtite. nals of the prism P-fco ; or, what comes to the 7. Couzeranite 8. Gieseckite—9. Gismondite. same, parallel to the faces of a rectangular prism. —10. Hisengerite.—11. Humite—12. Ligurite— 13. Mellilite.—14. Mol>bdenic Silver—15. Orthite. Characters mutually excluding each other. —16. Polyhalite.—17. Pyrallolite—18. Pyrorthite. If two or more characters, the one of which ex—19. Pyrosmalite.—20. Sapparite.—21. Skorodite. —22. Spinellane.—23. Stilpnosiderite.—24. Sorda- cludes the other, be coexistent in the character of walite.—25. Wavellite—26. Yttrocerite.—27- Zur- an order, or of a genus, as in the genus Corundum, “ Tessular, rhomboidal, prismatic,’’ the meanlite. ing is, that an individual belonging to this genus Mode of determining a Mineral, or of referring it to must be either tessular, or rhomboidal, or prismatic ; its place in the System. because only one of these three can take place at The characters principally employed in the forma- the same time. In the specific character this never tion of what is called the Specific Character are the re- happens, because all the forms must belong to one gular crystallizations (including cleavage) ; the de- system.

432

MINERALOGY. Determination of a Mineral in general. If a mineral is to be determined, first its form must be made out, at least so far as to know the system to which it belongs. Then hardness and specific aravity must be tried with proper accuracy, and expressed in numbers. It is sufficient, however, to know the latter to one or two decimals. The specific character requires these data ; and they are also of use in the characters of the genera, orders, and classes. This being done, the system may be consulted, and this will at the same time point out what other characters are wanting; so that a mere inspection of the mineral, or a very easy experiment, for instance, to try the streak upon a file, or, still better, upon a plate of porcelain biscuit, will be sufficient. Having advanced in this manner to the character of the species, it will, in some instances, be necessary, and in all cases advisable, tor the sake of certainty, to have recourse to the dimensions of the forms. This is particularly necessary, if the genus to which the mineral belongs contains several species having forms of the same system, as is the case in the genus Augite. This determination of the dimensions of the forms may be effected by the common goniometer, the differences in the angles being in general so great, that they cannot easily be missed, even by the application of this instrument. It will seldom be necessary to read over the whole of any character of a class, order, genus, or species, excepting those which comprise the individual; one character that does not agree sufficing for its exclusion. Thus even the characters of the orders, though the longest, will not be found troublesome. The application of the method will become very easy and expeditious, by taking particular notice of some characters, which may be termed prominent. Such are a metallic aspect ; a high degree of specific gravity (particularly if the mineral is not metallic), and a high degree of hardness. The observation of these will immediately decide whether an individual can belong to any particular class, order, genus, or species. It is understood, that if it be not thereby excluded, the other characters must next be examined, till either an excluding one be found, or, if not, the individual maybe considered as belonging to that class, order, &c. with which it has been compared and found to agree. Example.—In illustration of this, let us take the following example : Let the form of an unknown mineral be a combination of a scalene eight-sided pyramid, of an isosceles four-sided pyramid, and of a rectangular four-sided prism ; the cleavage paiallel to the faces of two rectangular four-sided prisms, in a diagonal position to each other; form and cleavage, therefore, pyramidal, or belonging to the pyramidal system. Let hardness be =6.5; specific gravity =6-9. In this case, both hardness and specific gi’avity are prominent characters, and exclude at once the individual from the first and third, but not from the second class; with the characters of which its other properties also perfectly agree. Hence the individual belongs to the second class. Comparing the properties of the individual with

the characters of the orders in the second class, hard- Mineralogy, ness and specific gravity will be found too great for v^-**** the order Haloide ; hardness too great for the orders Baryte and Kerate; both of them too great for the orders Malachite and Mica; and specific gravity too great for the orders Spar and Gem. But in the character of the order ore, both hardness and specific gravity fall between the fixed limits, and cannot exclude the individual from this order. The other parts of this character are now to be taken in consideration. If the lustre of the individual be metallic, its colour must be black, otherwise it cannot belong to the order ore. But the lustre is not metallic; therefore the colour of the individual is of no consequence ; that is, this conditional part of the character does not affect the individual, and consequently cannot determine its place. Since the lustre is not metallic, the individual must exhibit adamantine, or imperfect metallic lustre; the first will be found particularly in the fracture. The next part of the character refers to minerals of a red, yellow, brown, or black streak; and as the individual gives none of these, its streak being white, this part of the character does not come into consideration. Hardness keeps between the limits, as stated in the character of the order ore. Should it be =4.5 and less, the streak must be yellow, red, or black; but hardness is =6.5, therefore the colour of the streak is indifferent. If the hardness be =6.5 and more, and streak white, then the specific gravity must be =6.5 and more. Now, this condition takes place : hardness is =6.5, and the streak is white; the specific . gravity being =6-9, which is greater than (i.5. Lastly, the specific gravity keeps within the limits. As far as respects the individual which is to be determined, all the characters in the characteristic of the order ore may be divided into two parts. The first part contains those which refer to the individual; the second those which do not; the last afford no decisive distinctions. But with the first all the properties of the mineral agree. These properties agree consequently with the whole character of the order, as far as it is applicable to the individual, and determine it to belong to the order ore; or, in shorter terms, to be an ore. Beginners may also compare the characters of the remaining orders. Sometimes they find one individual belonging to two orders, in which case there must be evidently a mistake in the comparison, which would perhaps not have been discovered, had they stopt at the first order, which does not exclude it. In the present case, the want of metallic lustre excludes the individual from the orders, metal, pyrites, and glance; hardness from the order blende; and both hardness and specific gravity from the order sulphur. The individual can, therefore, be nothing else than an ore; and the characters of the genera of the order Ore may now be examined. If we consider again hardness and specific gravity as prominent, the individual will be immediately excluded from the genera titanium-ore, zincore, and copper-ore, but not from the genus tinore. The form of the pyramidal system, and the white streak, show that it belongs to this genus. From the genus scheelium-ore, it is excluded by its

433 MINERALOGY. Mineralogy, too great hardness, and too low specific gravity. be ascertained. Some varieties, however, may be Mineralogy, From the genera tantalum, uranium, cerium, chrome, observed, whose crystals are a little thicker, though, iron, and manganese-ore, by hardness and specific in other respects, these varieties perfectly agree gravity, both of them being too high ; as also by its with amianthus. These varieties lose their flexiwhite streak, which only agrees with that genus bility, yet they are too frangible to be able to susfrom which the individual differs most by its hard- tain the trial of hardness. Others are still thicker, ness and specific gravity. The form also does not but the dimensions of their forms cannot be ascertainagree with any in these genera, consequently the in- ed on account of their minuteness. They sink in wadividual can belong to no other than to the genus ter, and scratch prismatoidal gypsum, but they break, if tried upon calcareous spar. By thus proceedtin-ore. This genus contains but one species. The con- ing, we come to such varieties, as possessing a clusion that the individual must belong to this spe- discernible form, allow the cleavage to be invescies might, nevertheless, be erroneous. There could tigated; we find their specific gravity about three exist a second species of this genus. The dimen- times that of the water, and their hardness between sions of the form must now be accurately consider- five and six. These will be immediately determined. If these coincide with the angles given in the able, and be found to belong to the species of hemicharacter, the highest degree of certainty that the prismatic augite. Chalk, rock-milk, clay-slate, and individual belongs to or is pyramidal tin-ore, will be a great many other minerals not allowing of an imobtained. mediate determination, are determined in the same way, and thus nothing escapes in the natural history Perfect determination supposes all the Characters to method, which in any one of the other methods can be fcnotvn. be an object of determination.— Vide Edinburgh The perfect determination of an individual de- Philosophical Journal, for fuller details in regard to pends, as the above example has shown, upon the the determination of species, and also for a series of possibility of making out correctly those three pro- observations on the principles of the Natural History perties, viz. form, including cleavage, hardness, and method. specific gravity. In botany it is the same. The chaNatural History of Simple Minerals. racters must be observable, otherwise the determination will be impossible. In mineralogy, the method CLASS I. affords sometimes more: it leads to a correct determination, even if the knowledge of the form remains Specific gravity under 3.8. If solid, is sapid. No imperfect. But it will be an useful rule for be- bituminous smell. ginners to occupy themselves at first with the determination of such individuals as present properOrder I.—Gas. ties which can be easily and fully investigated. Sp. gr. =0.0001,—0.00014. Elastic. Not acid. The rest will come of itself, when their knowledge of the mineral kingdom, and particularly of the proGenus I—Hydrogen Gas. perties of minerals, increases, and when they have Evident smell. Sp. gr. =0.0001,—0.00014. by experience acquired the skill to judge properly of form and cleavage, at least, so far as is necessary for 1. Pure Hydrogen Gas. the determination of the system of crystallization, even in those cases where form and cleavage are Specific Character—Hydrogenous smell. Sp. gr. somewhat difficult to be observed. This exercise is =0.00012. recommendable to every naturalist who intends to Geognostic and Geographic (SiVwfl^/ows.——Emanates acquire a satisfactory knowledge of minerals, by from rocks of limestone, and of the coal formation, not means of the present method. only in Europe, but in other quarters of the globe. Immediate and Mediate Determination. 2. Empyreumatic or Carburetted Hydrogen Gas. The method of determination, illustrated by an Svecific Character—Empyreumatic smell. Sp. example at page 432, is termed the immediate deter- gr. =0.0008. mination, because it is applied immediately to the Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Rises from individual which is to be determined. The contrary marshes in different parts of Great Britain, and from of this is the mediate determination, so called on ac- marshes and volcanoes in other countries. count of its mediate application to the given in3. Sulphuretted Hydrogen Gas. dividual. That variety of hemiprismatic augite, which is known by the name amianthus, occurs in Specific Character—Smell of putrid eggs. Taste crystals so very seldom, as to withdraw their form, and bitter. Sp. gr. =0.00135. supposing it to be regular, from the sight, aided even nauseous Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—YWsqs from by the most powerful magnifying instruments ; cleav- marshes, sulphureous springs, and volcanoes. It is age is evidently still less observable. These crystals are flexible like fibres of flax, their hardness, there- met with in many places in Great Britain. fore, cannot be estimated. Their surface has so great 4. Phosphuretted Hydrogen Gas. an extent in respect to their bulk, that they will Specific Character.—Smell of putrid fish. Sp. gr. swim in water, though endowed with a pretty considerable specific gravity, which, therefore, cannot unknown.

MINERALOGY. 434 Geognostic Situation.—Occurs in volcanic districts Mineralogy, Mineralogy. Geognostic and Geographic Situations. It rises v ■■■ v ^from marshy places, where organic substances are in in Italy, America, and Java. a state of decomposition. Genus IV.—Bor acid Acid. Solid. Sp. gr. under 3.0. Genus II.—Atmospheric Air. 1. Prismatic Boracic Acid. Without smell or taste. Sp. gr. =0.001,—0.0015. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid un1. Pure Atmospheric Air. known. Occurs in scaly crusts. Taste first sourish, Specific Character.—Without smell or taste. or sub-acid, then bitter and cooling, and lastly, Forms the atmosphere which surrounds the earth. sweetish. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Found on Order II..—Water. the edges of hot springs in Italy, &c. Liquid. Tasteless, or with sensible taste and smell. Sp. gr. =1.1,—1.0269. Genus V.—Arsenic Acid. Genus I Atmospheric Water. Solid. Sp. gr. above 3.0. Without smell or taste. 1. Octahedral Arsenic Acid. 1. Pure Atmospheric Water. Arsenic oxyde—Hauy. Specific Character.—Without smell or taste. This is common rain, river, and spring water. MiSpecific Character—Tessular. Cleavage, octaheneral waters might be introduced into this part of dral. Taste sweetish-astringent. Hardness unknown. the system. Sp. gr. =3.6,—3.7Description.—Colour white. Occurs in delicate Genus II—Sea Water. capillary crystals ; also massive, in crusts, stalactitic, reniform and betryodal. Translucent or opaque. Sensible smell and taste. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in 1. Common Sea Water. veins at Andreasberg in the Hartz. Specific Character—Bitter nauseous taste, and disagreeable smell. Order IV.—Salt. Is the water of the ocean. Sp. gr. =1.2,—2.9- Solid. Not acid. Order III—Acid. Genus I.—Natron. Sp. gr. =0.0045,—3.7. Acid. Prismatic. Taste, pungent and alkaline. Hardness, =1.0,—1.5. Sp. gr. =1.5, —1.6. Genus I Carbonic Acid. 1. Prismatic Natron.—Jameson. Taste slightly acid. Sp. gr. =0.0018. Prismatishes Natron-Salz, Mohs.—NatiirlichesMi1. Aeriform Carbonic Acid. neral-Alkali, Werner.—Soude carbonatee, Hauy. Specific Character.—Elastic. Taste acidulous and Specific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. pungent. Combination, hemi-prismatic. Cleavage prismatic. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Description Its chief colours are grey, white, marshy places and in acidulous waters, in Great and yellow. Occurs in acecular crystals, in radiated Britain and other countries. and granular distinct concretions; also in loose earthy particles, and in crusts. Is more or less translucent. Genus II Muriatic Acid. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Smell of saffron, and strong acid taste. Sp. gr. crusts on rocks and soils of different kinds; and also =0.0023. in the waters of natron lakes and springs. It is particularly abundant in the natron lakes in Egypt. 1. Aeriform Muriatic Acid. Genus II Glauber Salt. Specific Character Elastic. Smell pungent and suffocating. Prismatic. Taste, first cooling, then saline and Geognostic Situation—Rises from volcanoes. bitter. Hardness, =1.5, —2.0. Sp. gr. 1.4, —1.5. Genus III.—Sulphuric Acid. 1. Prismatic Glauber Salt.—Jameson. If gaseous, the smell is sulphureous. If liquid, Prismatisches Glauber Salz, Mohs.—Natiirliches the taste is strongly acid. Sp. gr. =0.0025,—1.5. Glauber Salz, Werner. Soude sulphate, Hauy. Specific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. 1. Aeriform Sulphuric Acid. 0 p Specific Character.—Elastic. Sp. gr. =0.0028. Combination, hemi-prismatic. —. Cleavage, Pr-foo Geognostic Situation.—Often rises in considerable quantities from volcanoes. perfect. Less perfect, Pr-foo. (Fig. 29, 28.) 2. Liquid Sulphuric Acid. Description.—Colour white, sometimes inclining Specific Character.—Liquid. Sp. gr. =1.4,—1.5. to yellow. Occurs in acicular crystals, granular con-

MINERALOGY. 435 Mineralogy, cretions, stalactitic, in loose earthy particles, and in Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Mineralogy, crusts. More or less translucent. crusts in the fissures and on the surfaces of volcanic Geognostic and Geographic Situations'-—Occurs on rocks, as in Vesuvius, iEtna, &c. soils and rocks of different descriptions, in Scotland, Genus VI.—Vitriol. England, and other countries. Pyramidal, prismatic. Taste, astringent. HardGenus III.—Nitre. ness =2.0, —2.5. Sp. gr. =1.9, —2.3. Prismatic. Taste, cooling and saline. Hardness, 1. Hemi‘prismatic Vitriol, or Green Vitriol.—Jame=2,0. Sp. gr. 1.9, —2.0. son. 1. Prismatic Nitre—Jameson. Hemiprismatisches Vitriol-Salz, Mohs. Eisen ViPrismatiches Nitrum-Salz, Mohs. — Natiirlicher triol, Werner. Per Sulfatee, Hauy. Salpeter, Werner.—Potasse nitratee, Haiiy. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid =161° Specific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid =132° J5 ; 82° 20'; 103° 35', P+00 =24° 25'. Combina22'; 91° 15'; 107° 43'. Cleavage, P+00 =120°. tion, hemi-prismatic -P = 82® 26'. Cleavage, P . More distinct, Pr+oo. (Fig. 30, 29.) 2 2 Description.—Colour white, grey, and sometimes yellow. Occurs in acicular crystals, in crusts, and More perfect, Pr+ x . (Fig. 40.) The inclination in fibrous concretions. More or less translucent. r P Pr Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in"2"t0 ~2^~00 := 80° Green- Hardness, — crusting limestone, marl, sandstone, calc-tuff, chalk, 2.0. Sp. gr. =1.9, —2.0. and on soils of particular kinds; also incrusting the Description. — Colour green. Occurs regularly walls of limestone caves. Occurs in considerable crystallized, in fibrous concretions, massive, stalactiabundance in limestone caves in Italy, in caves of va- tic, botryoidal, and reniform. More or less translurious descriptions in America, and in abundance on cent and transparent. the^ surface of the ground in many of the Tartarian Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in plains. coal and iron mines, both in Scotland and England. Genus IV—Rock-Salt. 2. P> ismatic V itriol, or Blue Vitriol.—Jameson. Tessular. Taste, saline. Hardness =2.0. Sp. r gr. =2.2, —2.3. Prismatisches Vitriol-Salz, Mohs. Kupfervitriol, Weiner. Cuivre Sulfatee, Hauy. 1. Hexahedral Rock-Salt Jameson. Specific Character. — Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Combination, tctartoprismatic. Cleavage, Hexaedrisches Steinsalz, Mohs. Specific Character.—Jessular. Cleavage, hexahe- two faces, one more distinct than the other; incidral. dence, 124° 2'. Hardness =2.5. Sp. gr. =2.2, Description.—Most frequent colours grey and ——2.3. white; sometimes also blue, red, yellow, and green. Description—Colour blue. Occurs distinctly crysOccurs in granular, fibrous, radiated, and prisma- tallized, massive, stalactitic, and dentiform. More tic concretions; massive, dentiform, and stalactitic. or less transparent and translucent. Lustre between vitreous and resinous. More or Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in less transparent and translucent. copper mines in England and Ireland. Geognostic and Geographic Situations It occurs 3. Pyramidal Vitriol, or White Vitriol Jameson. in beds, imbedded masses, and veins, associated with saliniferous clay, gypsum, limestone, sandstone, and Pyramidales Vitriol-Salz, Mohs Zink-vitriol anhydrite, in the salt formation ; also, in layers and Werner.—Zinc sulfatee, Haiiy. crusts on soils of particular kinds, and deposited on Specific Character.—Pyramidal. Pyramid=120® • the shores of salt lakes, and in the vicinity of salt 90°. Cleavage unknown, and imperfect. White! springs. Occurs abundantly in Cheshire, and also Hardness unknown. Sp. gr. =2.0. in other parts of England. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in mines where blende is met with, both in Flintshire Genus V.—Sal Ammoniac. Tessular. Taste, pungent and urinous. Hardness and Cornwall. —1.5, —2.0. Sp. gr. 1.5, —1.6. Genus VII.-—Epsom Salt. Prismatic. Taste bitter and saline. Hardness 1. Octahedral Sal Ammoniac.—Jameson. unknown. Sp. gr. unknown. Octaedrisches Salmiac, Mohs. Naturlicher Salmiac, Werner. Ammoniaque Muriatee, Hauy. 1. Prismatic Epsom Salt Jameson. Specific character.—Tessular. Cleavage, octaheBittersalz, Mohs—Naturlicher Bittersalz, Werner dral. * —Magnesie Sulfatee, Hauy. Description.—Colours white, grey, yellow, and Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unsometimes green and bluish. Occurs in granular known. Cleavage very imperfect prismatoidal and fibrous concretions ; also in efflorescences, in Description.—Colours white and grey. Occurs in crusts, stalactitic, botryoidal, tuberose, and corroded. crusts, botryoidal, reniform, and crystallized,—varies More or less translucent. trom transparent to translucent. VOL. V. PART n. 3K

436 Mineralogy.

MINERALOGY. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—-Occurs aiong with natural alum at Hurlet near Paisley. Genus VIII.—Alum. Tessular. Taste sweetish, astringent, and acidulous. Hardness =2.0,—2.5. Sp. gr.=1.7,—1-8. 1. Octahedral Alum—Jameson. Octaedrisches Alaun, Mohs.—Natiirlicher Alaun, Specific Character—Tessular. Cleavage octahedral. Description.—Colours white. Occurs in farinaceous efflorescences, stalactitic, and in fibrous concretions,—more or less translucent. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Generally occurs incrusting aluminous minerals, and in this situation it is met with in various parts cf Scotland England. Genus IX.—Borax. Borax-Salz, Mohs.^ Prismatic. Taste feebly sweetish and alkaline. Hardness =2.0,—2.5. Sp. gr.= 1.5,—1.7. 1. Prismatic Borax.—Jameson. Prismatisches Borax-Salz, Mohs.—Soude Boratee, Specific Character.—Prismatic. P=152° 9'; 120° 23'; 67° 3'. P+oo =52° 53'. Combination, hemiprismatic, ^=1203 23'.

Cleavage (Pr+co )5=88°

9'. More distinct Pr-J-co . (Fig. 32, 29-) Description.—Colours white, grey, and green. Occurs crystallized, internally shining and resinous. Fracture, flat, conchoidal. Semitransparent. Geognostic and Geographic Situations. Occuis in the soil, and in the water of springs, in Thibet and Persia. Genus X Glauberite. Brithyn-Salz, Mohs. Prismatic. Taste feebly saline and astringent. Hardness =2.5,—3.0. Sp. gr.=2.7> 2.9* 1. Prismatic Glauberite.—Jameson. Prismatisches Brithyn-Salz, Mohs.—Glauberite, Haiii/. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Pr Combination hemiprismatic. Cleavage —, perfect. Indistinct P+ oo =1040 28'. (Fig. 35, 30.) Description.—Colours yvhite and yellow. Occurs crystallized in oblique tour-sided prisms. Shining lustre. Fracture conchoidal. Transparent. Brittle. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in masses of rock-salt, associated with clay, at Villarubia near Ocanas, in the province of Toledo, in Spain.

CLASS II. Mineralogy. Specific gravity above 1.8. Insipid. Order I Haloide. * No metallic lustre. Streak white or grey. Hardness =1.5.—5.0. Sp. gr.=2.2—3.3. If pyramidal, or prismatic, the hardness =4-0, and less. If tessular, the hardness =4.0. If single highly perfect faces of cleavage, the Sp.gr.=2.4, and less. If the hardness is under 2.5, the Sp. gr.= 2.4, and less. If the Sp. gr.=2.4, and less, the hardness is under 2.5, and no resinous lustre. Genus I—Gypsum. Prismatic. Hardness =1.5,—3.5* Sp. gr.=2.2, —3.0. , If the Sp. gr. is above 2.5, there are cleavages m three directions, perpendicular to each other, and two are more distinct than the others. 1. Prismatoidal Gypsum, or Common Gypsum. * Jameson. Prismatoidisches Gyps-Haloid, Afo^s.—Chaux suljp^^00^ Hauy• Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid=1493 33'; 135° 32'; 54° 52'. P+co =110? 30'. Combination.

Hemiprismatic, —= 149° 33'. Cleavage, r ^ Pr Pr-{-oo, very perfect and distinct, — Pr-j-co. (in-

clination to each other, =113° 6') (Fig. 41.) Hardness =1.5.—2.0. Sp. gr.=2.2—2.4. Description.—Most frequent colours white and grey; occurs also yellow, red, blue, green, brown, and even black. Occurs in regular crystals; in granular, scaly-granular, and fibrous distinct concretions ; massive, disseminated, and dentiform. Lustre alternates from splendent to glimmering,. and is pearly. Fracture splintery. Fragments indeterminate angular and blunt-edged. Alternates from transparent to translucent on the edges. # , The transparent and highly crystallized varieties are named selenite; those in granular concretions, foliated granular gypsum ; those disposed in fibrous concretion, fibrous gypsum; the splintery fracture characterizes the compact gypsum; while those varieties composed of scaly-granular concretions form the subspecies named scaly-foliated gypsum. Some varieties, composed of fine scaly or dusty and slightly cohering particles, are named earthy gypsum. Geognostic and Geographic Situations- Selenite, the purest subspecies, occurs most frequently in what are called the gypsum and salt formations of the secondary class ot rocks; also in metalliferous veins of different descriptions, and in various alluvial clays and marls. The foliated granular subspecies occurs in beds, in transition, and secondary rocks,— being in the former intermixed with mica, in the latter with quartz, boracite, &c. The compact variety

* From "aAs, salt; and "/So?, the appearance (habitus).

437 MINERALOGY. Jtlneralogy. Description Colours white, red, and rarely grey. Mineralogy, occurs in considerable abundance along with the granular in the secondary gypsum formation, and the Occurs massive, porous, and vesicular Lustre feebly Jibrous is disposed in veins, in the same formation, glimmering. Fracture uneven. Feebly translucent which also contains the scaly Jbliated and the earthy on the edges. Brittle, and easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs hinds. The salt mines in England afford examples of in beds and large irregular masses in porphyry in nearly all the subspecies, and several of them are Hungary, and in veins and drusy cavities in aluminous rocks at Tolfa, near to Civita Vecchia. also met with in Scotland. 2. Prismatic Gypsum, or Anhydrite.—Jameson.

Genus IV.—Fluor. Tessular. Hardness = 4.0. Sp. gr. =3.0,-— 3.3. 1. Octahedral Fluor.—Jameson.

Prismatisches Gyps-Haloide, Mohs Muriacit, Werner.—Chaux Anhydro-Sulphatee, Haiiy. Specific Character.—Prismatic, Pyramid =121° 32'; 108o35'; 99°7'. Cleavage, Pr—co. Pr-f-co • Octaedrisches Plus Haloide, Mohs—Chaux fluatee, HaVy. Less perfect P—oo. Traces of P-f-«> =I00°8'. Specific Character Tessular. Cleavage Octahe(Fig. 29, 28,27,30.) Hardness =3.0,—3.5. Sp. dral. gr. =2.7, —3.0. Description.—Colours white, grey, black, blue, Description.—Colours white, blue, red, and grey. Occurs crystallized ; in granular, fibrous, and lamel- green, yellow, red; and brown. Occurs regularly lar concretions; massive, and vermicularly convoluted crystallized, in granular, prismatic, and lamellar conor contorted. Lustre alternates from splendent to cretions, massive, and disseminated. Lustre from glistning, and is pearly. Fracture splintery and con- splendent to feebly glimmering, and vitreous. Fracchoidal. Alternates from transparent to translucent ture even, inclining to splintery and to conchoidal. More or less transparent and translucent. Brittle, on the edges. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs mas- land easily frangible. The varieties, with even fracture and feeble lussive, and in beds in the salt and secondary gypsum formations. Is frequently intermixed with rock salt, also tre, are named compact jluor; .those in which the with stinkstone, saliniferous clay, and occasionally cleavage is distinct are named common or foliated with ores of different kinds. Some varieties are met Jluor; and some rare, dull, earthy, and loosely agwith in transition and primitive rocks. Several of gregated varieties, which occur, incrusting other mithe varieties are found in the red sandstones of Eng- nerals, are described under the name earthy jluor. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—It occurs land and Scotland. in veins and beds in primitive gneiss, mica slate, ami Genus II—Cryolite. clay slate, in various remarkable metalliferous forPrismatic. Cleavage in three directions, perpen- mations of cobalt, silver, tin, lead, copper, &c.; less dicular to each other, of which one is more perfect frequently in transition rocks, and very abundantly than the others. Hardness =2.5, —3.0. Sp. gr. in some secondary rocks, as limestone, and rarely in =2.9,—3.0. secondary porphyries. It is a rare mineral in Scotland, its principal localities being Monaltree, in 1. Prismatic Cryolite.—Jameson. Aberdeenshire, Banffshire, Papa Stour, in Shetland, Kryolite, Werner.—Prismatisches Kryon-Haloide, and Gourock, in Renfrewshire. It is very abundant Mohs.—Alumine fluatee alcaline. Flatly. in several of the mining districts in England. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unO Genus V—Apatite. known. Cleavage, P—oo. Less distinct, Pr-f-oo. Rhomboidal. Hardness =5.0. Sp. gr. =3.0, 3.3. Pr-p od. Traces of P. (Fig. 27, 29, 28.) Description—Colours white, brown, and red. Oc1. Rhomboidal Apatite. curs massive, disseminated, and in lamellar concreRhomboedrisches Flus-haloide, Mohs.—Apatit, tions. Internally shining, and lustre vitreous, in- Werner—Chaux phosphatee, Haiiy. clining to pearly. Fracture uneven. Fragments cuSpecific C/zaracfer. —Rhomboidal. R=8805l'. bical. Translucent. Brittle, and easily frangible. Combination, di-rhomboidal. 2(R)=131°14'; 1110 Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—It has him therto been found only in West Greenland, where it 20', (P+ra) hemi-dirhomboidal, with parallel planes. occurs in gneiss, and associated with iron pyrites and Cleavage, R—oo . P-;-oo . H=5. Sp. gr. =3.0— 3.3. galena or lead-glance. Description.—Colours white, green, blue, red, Genus III Alumstone. yellow, and brown. Occurs regularly crystallized; in concretions which are granular, lamellar, and fibAlaun Haloide, Mohs.—Alaunstein, Werner. Rhomboidal. Hardness =5.0. Sp. gr. =2.4, — rous ; massive and disseminated; lustre resinous, and varying from splendent to glimmering. Fracture 2.B. conchoidal and uneven. Alternates from transpa* 1. Rhomboidal Ahcmstone.—Jameson. rent to feebly translucent on the edges. Brittle, and Rhomboidrisches Alaun Haloide, Mohs. easily frangible. Specific Character.— Rhomboidal. Rhomboid One set of varieties, in which the cleavage is very unknown. Cleavage R— oo. R. distinct, is named foliated apatite ; another, in which

MINERALOGY. 438 Mineralogy, the fracture is conchoidal, is named conchoidal apa- splintery or conchoidal fractures are named compact Mineralogy tite ; and the varieties in which the fracture is un- limestone ; other varieties having a grey or browm colour, dull earthy fracture, and which, on rubbing, even are named phosphorite. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in give out a sulphureo-bituminous smell, are named gneiss, near Kincardine, in Ross-shire ; in the same stinkstone ; the black varieties in granular and prisrock in the Shetland Islands; and in veins in green- matic concretions, or with a compact fracture, with stone, in the Island of Rume. Several varieties are a glimmering or shining lustre, and low degree of translucency on the edges or complete opacity, and met with in Cornwall. which, on rubbing, yield a sulphureo-bituminous Genus VI.—Limestone. odour, are named anthraconite; those limestones which have the oolitic structure, or are composed of Kalk-Haloide.—Mohs. spherical granular concretions, set on a marly basis, Rhomboidal, prismatic. Cleavage, rhomboido- are named roestone or oolite; the soft varieties paratomous, prismatoidal. Hardness =3.0, —4.5. with earthy fracture and white colour are named Sp. gr. =2.5, —3*2. If the hardness is above 4.0, chalk; the varieties with dull fracture surface, in the specific gravity =2.8 and more. loosely cohering pieces and crusts, and so light as 1. Prismatic Limestone, or Arragonite.—Jameson. nearly to swim upon water, are named agaric minePrismatisches Kalk-Haloide, Mohs.—Arragon, ral ; the fibrous varieties are named common Jibrous limestone or satin-spar, and Jibrous calc-sinter, or calWerner. careous alabaster; the earthy looking opaque varieSpecific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid =1 13° ties that occur in many particular external shapes, 44'; 93°43'; 122° 10' . P+co =105°23'. Cleav- near calcareous springs, and on the borders of lakes, age, Pr—1=109°28' . (Pr-j-co)3 = 64°4'. More are named calc-tuff; while the varieties in spherical round granular concretions, and concentric lameldistinct Pr-f oo. Fig. 42. Hardness =3.5, —4.0. lar concretions, found near hot springs, are named Sp. gr. =2.6, —3.0. pea-stone; the slate-spar of mineralogists is a vaDescription. — Colours white, grey, green, and riety in lamellar concretions, with a beautiful pearly violet-blue. Occurs regularly crystallized; also in lustre and feeble translucency ; varieties with earthy prismatic concretions and massive. Lustre vitreous, fracture, more or less inclined to splintery and coninclining to resinous, and shining and glistning. choidal, are named marl; and, lastly, the opaque Fracture conchoidal, passing into uneven. Translu- dull black varieties, with slaty fracture, are named bituminous marl-slate. cent and transparent. Brittle, and easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs Geognostic Situation.—This mineral is one of the along with galena in the lead-mines of Leadhills, most abundant and widely distributed with which we and in secondary trap-rocks in different parts of are acquainted. Calcareous spar, one of its princiScotland. pal kinds, occurs in every rock from granite to the newest member of the secondary series. It generally 2. Rhomboidal Limestone.—Jameson. occurs in veins with numerous metalliferous mineRhomboedrisches Kalk-Haloide, Mohs.—Chaux rals, and assists in an eminent degree in characterizcarbonatee, Hauy.—Kalk-spath, Werner. ing the vast host of mineral veins in primitive, tranSpecific Character.—Rliomboidal. Rhomboid = sition, and secondary rocks. In the state of gralOS’S', Cleavage, 11. Hardness =3.0. Sp. gr. = nular, foliated, and compact limestones, also in the 2.5,—2.8. form of oolite, chalk, and Lucullite, it forms beds, Description.—Colours very varied, but of all the hills, mountains, and even ranges of mountains. The tints, white and grey are the most frequent; besides beautiful fibrous limestone or satin spar occurs in these, the following kinds also cccur, viz. red, blue, veins in clay slate, and in rocks of the coal formagreen, yellow, brown, and rarely black. Occurs tion, while all the beautiful forms of calc-sinter are regularly crystallized, and of all known minerals, met with ornamenting the walls and floors of caverns exhibits the greatest number of varieties of the in limestone and other formations ; calc tuff abounds rhomboidal series of crystallization; also in granu- around cold, and also warm springs, frequently inlar, prismatic, tabular, and globular distinct concre- crusting organic bodies, forming the calcareous intions. Its other forms are massive, disseminated, crustations so well known to mineralogists. Peaglobular, botryoidal, reniform, tuberose, stalactitic, stone is also a production of warm springs. The tubular, claviform, coralloidal, cellular, and curtain- white, porous, and nearly supernatant mineral agaric shaped. Its lustre varies from splendent to dull, and incrusts rocky cliffs, particularly in limestone hills, is vitreous, inclining sometimes to pearly, sometimes and the rare variety, named slate spar, has hitherto to resinous, Fracture splintery, conchoidal, earthy, been found only in primitive limestone. and uneven. Alternates from transparent to opaque. Geographic Situation—England and Scotland Generally brittle, and easily frangible. abound in interesting varieties of calcareous spar, Those varieties which are regularly crystallized, and the mountains, hills, and valleys of Great Briand possess high degrees of transparency, are named tain afford numerous localities of many of the differcalcareous-spar; those in angulo-granular distinct ent kinds of marble, limestone, chalk, marl, Luculconcretions, with a lower lustre and transparency lite, and oolite, while its calcareous springs, and than the former, are the Jbliated granular limestone, caves and caverns, exhibit numerous deposites of calc or crystalline marble of authors; the varieties with tuff and of calc sinter. 10

MINERALOGY. 439 Genus I—Sparry Iron'. Mineralogy. Mineralogy. 3. Macrolypous * Limestone.—Jameson. Macrotypes Kalk-haloid, Mohs—Braunspath, Rhomboidal. Hardness =3.5, —4.5. Sp. gr.S— Rhombspath-Dolomite, JFerwer.—Chaux carbonat6e =3.6, —3.9. ferrifere perlee, Chaux carbonatee magnesifere, 1. Rhomboidal Sparry Iron,—Jameson. Haiiy. Brachytyper Parachros Baryte, Mohs.—Spath EiSpecific Character— Rhomboidal. Rhomboid 106° 15'- Cleavage, rhomboidal. Hardness —3.5, senstein, Werner.—Fer Oxyde Carbonate, Hauy. Specific Character—Rhomboidal. Rhomboid = —4-.0. Sp. gr. =2.8,— 2.95. Description—Colours white, grey, brown, red, and 107- Cleavage, rhomboidal. Description.—Colours yellow, white, brown,, and green. Occurs crystallized in rhomboids, in granular and prismatic concretions; massive, disseminat- black. Occurs crystallized in rhombs ; also in graed, globular, stalactitic, reniform, and with tabular nular concretions, massive and disseminated. Interand pyramidal impressions. Lustre varies from shin- nally, lustre pearly, and varying from shining to gliming to glimmering, and is pearly, sometimes inclining mering, and even to splendent. Fracture sometimes to vitreous. Fracture splintery, conchoidal, and splintery. Translucent on the edges. Rather brittle, slaty. Varies from transparent to translucent on the and easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs in edges. Brittle, and easily frangible. The white varieties in small and fine granular con- metalliferous veins, and in common veins, in primicretions, which are sometimes so loosely aggregated, tive, transition, and secondary rocks in different parts as to separate by the mere pressure of the finger, of Great Britain and Ireland. are the dolomite-marble of mineralogists; the wog* Sphcerosiderite. nesian limestone of England is a dolomite with brown Feroxyde carbonatee concretionne. colours; the green varieties are described under the Colours brownish black, blackish brown, yellow, name Miemite, from Miemo in Tuscany, where they were first found; the brown, red, reddish white, and and grey. Occurs in stellular fibrous concretions, pearl grey varieties, with very distinct pearly lustre, also globular, reniform, and small botryoidal. LusFracture uneven. are arranged together, and described under the tre shining and resino-pearly. Ranges from semitransparent to opaque. Occurs names brown spar and pearl spar. Geovnostic and Geographic Situations.—The dolo- in drusy cavities in secondary trap rocks, along with mite marble occurs in the island of Iona; the brown calcareous spar, arragonite and calcedony, at Steindolomite constitutes a secondary limestone formation heim near Hanau, in Germany. very abundant in England ; the brown spar and pearl Genus II Red Manganese. spar are not unfrequent in the lead mines of ScotHardness =3.5. Sp. gr. =3.3, —3.6 land and England. 4. Brachytypous\ Limestone or Rhomb-Spar—Jameson. Brachytypes Kalk-haloid, Mohs. Rautenspath, Werner. Chaux carbonatee magnesifere, Hauy. Specific Character.—Rhomboidal. Rhomboid =107° 22'. Cleavage rhomboidal. Hardness =4.0, 4.5. Sp. gr. =3.0, —3.2. Description.—Colours white, grey, and yellow. Occurs crystallized in rhombs; also massive and disseminated. Lustre splendentand vitreo-pearly. Fracture imperfect conchoidal. More or less translucent. Brittle, and easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs imbedded in chlorite slate on the banks of Loch Lomond, and associated with galena, copper pyrites, and blende, near Newton Stewart, in Galloway. Order LI.—Baryte. No true metallic lustre. Streak, white and grey, or orange-yellow. Hardness=2.5, —5.0. Sp. gr. = 3.3,—7.3. If adamantine, or imperfect metallic lustre, the Sp, gr. =6.0 and more. If the streak is orange-yellow, the Sp. gr. =6 and more; and the hardness =3.0 and less. If the Sp. gr. is under 4.0, and the hardness =5.0, the cleavage is diprismatic.

1. Rhomboidal Red Manganese.—Jameson. Macrotyper Parachros Baryte, Mohs. Rother Braunstein, Werner. Manganese Oxide Carbonate, Hauy. Specific Character.—-Rhomboid =106° 51'. Cleavage, rhomboidal. Description.—Colours red and brown. Occurs in granular concretions, also in fibrous concretions, which are scopiformly and stellularly arranged, massive, and reniform. Lustre vaides from shining to glimmering, and pearly. Fracture splintery. More or less translucent on the edges; in some rare varieties translucent. Brittle, and rather easily frangible. The varieties with distinct cleavage are named foliated red manganese; those in fibrous concretions, fibrous red manganese; and the splintery varieties, compact red manganese. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs at Kapnic, in Transylvania, and at Catharinenberg, in Siberia. * Manganese Spar.—Jameson. Rothstein. Manganese Oxyd6 Silicifere. Specific Character—Colour bright rose-red. Occurs massive and disseminated. Lustre intermediate

* From //.axg&s, long ; and rxyxoi, the type (fundamental form), f From short, and tv-tto;, the type.

MINERALOGY. 440 Specific Character—Pyramidal. Pyramid =107° Mineralogy. Mineralogy, between pearly and vitreous. Cleavage sometimes visible. Fracture conchoidal or splintery. Trans- 26'; 113° 36'. Combination hemi-pyramidal with lucent on the edges. Hardness =5.0, —5.5. Sp. parallel planes. Cleavage, P. P-f-1 = 100° 8'; 130° 20' P—oo. gr. =3.5, —3.7. ' . . . Description.—White is the principal colour ; but Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs m beds of magnetic iron-ore and iron-glance, ;in gneiss other varieties, as brown and orange-yellow, occasionally occur. Sometimes crystallized, and also in disat Langbanshytta, in Wermeland in Sweden. tinct concretions, which are granular, prismatic, and Genus III.—Calamine. curved lamellar. Occurs massive and disseminated. External lustre shining and splendent; internal lustre Zinc-Baryt, Mohs. Rhomboidal. Prismatic. Hardness =5.0. Sp. shining and resinous. Fracture uneven or conchoidal. gr. =3.3, —4.5. If rhomboidal, the Sp. gr. above More or less translucent, seldom transparent. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs 4.0. along wuth tinstone, wolfram, magnetic iron-ore, and 1. Prismatic Calamine, or Electric Calamine.— brown iron-ore, in primitive rocks, as in Cornwall. Jameson. Genus V. Baryte. Prismatischer Zink-Baryt, Mohs. Zink Oxyde, Hardness zrS.O,—3-5. Sp. gr. 3.6,—4.6.' Haul/. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid =134° 1. Pyramido-Prismatic Baryte, or Strontianite. \ 99° 56'; 96° 56'. P-fco 11SU29'. Cleavage, Pyramido-prismatischer Hal-Baryt, Mohs StronPr=120°. More distinct, (Pr-j-oo )3=8C° 4'. (Fig. tian, Werner—Strontiane Carbonate, Haiiy. 43.) Hardness =5.0. Sp. gr. =3.3, —3.6. Specific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Description Most frequent colours white and yellow; also green, grey, yellow, and brown; and with Cleavage, Pr. P-j- co =117° 19'. Pr-f- > Hardness =6-5. Sp. gr. =3.3,—3.4. Description.—Colours green and brown, and rarely blue. Occurs regularly crystallized; in granular distinct concretions, massive, and disseminated. Externally splendent, and internally feebly shining and vitreo-resinous. Fracture uneven, inclining to small conchoidal. Ranges from transparent to translucent in the edges. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in primitive rocks in Ireland, also in Scotland ; and on the continent of Europe the most beautiful varieties are there found in the unaltered ejected masses in Somma, near Naples, where they are associated with granular limestone, garnet, hornblende, mica, chlorite, augite, meionite, nepheline, magnetic iron-ore, &c. 2. Tetrahedral Garnet, or Helvine.—Jameson. Helvin, Werner—Tetraedrischer Granat, Mohs. Specific Character.—Tessular. Combination, semi-tessular of inclined planes. Cleavage, octahedral, but imperfect. Hardness =6.0,—6.5. Sp. gr. = 3.1,—3.3. Description.—Colours yellow, green, and brown. Occurs regularly crystallized, and in granular distinct concretions. Lustre ranges from splendent to glistening and vitreo-resinous. Fracture uneven. Translucent. Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs in a bed in gneiss, associated with fluor-spar, slate-spar, chlorite, quartz, blende, and copper-pyrites, near Schwarzenberg, in Saxony. 3. Dodecahedral Garnet.—Jameson. Specific Character—Tessular. Cleavage dodeca-

MINERALOGY. 457 Mineralogy, hedral imperfect. Hardness =6.5^—7.5. Sp. gr. and resino-vitreous. Fracture uneven. Ranges from Mineralogy, semi-transparent to opaque. Description.—Colours red, brown, green, black, Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in grey, and yellow. Occurs regularly crystallized ; primitive rocks in the Shetland Islands and in Aberin angulo-granular concretions, and massive. Lustre deenshire, and other parts of Scotland. ranges from splendent to glimmering, and is vitreous * Aplome.—Colour dark brown. Tessular. Cleavinclining to resinous, resino-vitreous, and resino-ada- age, hexahedral. Hardness —7- Sp. gr. =3,446. ** Eudialite—Colour brownish red. Rhomboimantine. Fracture conchoidal, splintery, uneven. dal, R=62°. Cleavage, R—oo. Less distinct, Ranges from transparent to opaque. The asparagus-green varieties in leucite formed P-foo. Hardness =5.0,—5.5. Sp.gr. =2,8,—3.0. crystals are named grossulare; the greyish-black Its native country is West Greenland. dodecahedral opaque varieties, which externally have Genus XII—Zircon. a metallic-like aspect, pyreneite; the velvet-black, Pyramidal. Hardness =7.5. Sp. gr. =4.5,—4.7. dodecahedral, opaque varieties, melavite ; the green, brown, and grey massive varieties, with glimmering 1. Pyramidal Zircon—Jameson. lustre, and feeble translucency on the edges, allochPyramidaler Zircon, Mohs. roite ; the brown and red varieties in granular conSpecific Character.—Pyramidal. Pyramid =123° cretions, with resino-adamantine lustre, colophonite ; If)'; 84° 20'. Cleavage, P. P-f 00. the red highly crystallized transparent varieties, preDescription.—Colours and hyacinth red ; cious garnet; the yellow nearly transparent varie- also white, green, brown,grey and rarely yellow, blue, ties topazolite or yellow garnet ; the brown and green and red. Occurs regularly crystallized. Lustre varieties, in crystals often rounded on the edges, in splendent, shining, and adamantine-resinous and regranular concretions, and translucent, or translucent on the edges, common garnet ; and lastly, the deep sino-vitreous. Fracture conchoidal. Ranges from transparent to opaque. blood-red variety in roundish and angular grains, and Those varieties in which the cleavage is very discompletely transparent, pyrope. tinct, and which have frequently a hyacinth red coGeoonostic and Geographic Situations.—This mine- lour, are named hyacinth, the other varieties common ral occurs principally in primitive rocks, either dis- zircon. seminated through them, or forming any ingredient Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in in the composition of subordinate beds ; it is compasyenite, granite, gneiss, primitive trap, in secondary ratively rare in transition rocks, and is still less fre- trap, and unaltered ejected masses of Somma. The quently met with in secondary formations. In Scotsyenite rocks of Galloway, the gneiss rocks of Inverland the precious garnet is common in several High- ness-shire and of the Shetland Islands, afford examples land districts in Perthshire, Aberdeenshire, &c.; and of this mineral. the pyrope variety occurs in secondary trap-rocks in Fifeshire. Genus XIII.—Gadolinite. 4. Prismatic Garnet, or Cinnamon-Stone.—Jameson. Prismatischer Garnet, Mohs.—Kaneelstein, Werner Essonite, Ha'uy. Specific Character. —Pnsxn2i\\c. (Fig. 30.) Pyramid unknown. Cleavage, P-f-co =102° 40', indistinct. Hardness =7.0,—7-5. Sp. gr. =3.5,—3.7* Description.—Colour intermediate between hyacinth-red and orange-yellow. Occurs in granular distinct concretions, and massive. Lustre shining and resino-vitreous. Fracture conchoidal. Transparent and translucent. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in gneiss in Kincardineshire; the finer varieties are imported from Ceylon, where they are found in the beds of rivers, and also associated with gneiss. 5. Prismatoidal Garnet, or Grenatite.—Jameson. Prismatoidischer Granat, Mohs.—Granatit, Werner. —Staurotide, Haiiy. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid =1318 54'; 80° 43'; 124° 48'. P+oo=1290 30'. Cleavage, Pr-f 00, perfect. (Fig. 29*) Hardness =7-0,— 7.5. Sp. gr. =3,3,—3.9. Description.—Colour reddish brown. Occurs regularly crystallized. Internally the cleavage is shining and splendent; fracture glistening and glimmering.

Prismatic. Colour black. Hardness =6.5,—7.0. Sp. gr. =4.0,—4.3. 1. Prismatic Gadolinite.—Jameson. Prismatischer Gadolinit, Mohs. Specific Character.-Vr\svnot\c. Pyramid unknown. P-j-cc=llC0 (nearly). Combination, hemiprismatic. Description.—Colour black, and rarely hyacinth red. Occurs in granular and prismatic concretions, and massive. Internally shining, and lustre, resinovitreous. Fracture conchoidal, seldom uneven. Opaque. Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in beds of felspar, in mica-slate at Ytterby, and in granite at Finbo, in Sweden. Order VIII.—Ore. Hardness =2-5, 7* Sp. gr. =3.4, —7-4. If the lustre is metallic, the colour is black. If the lustre is not metallic, it is adamantine or imperfect, or semi-metallic lustre. If the streak is yellow or red, the hardness =3.5, and more, and the sp. gr. =4.8, and more. If the streak is brown or black, the hardness = 5.0, and more, or the cleavage montomous. If the hardness =4.5, and less, the streak is yellow, red, or black. If hardness =6.5, and more, the streak is white or grey, and the sp. gr. =6.5, and more.

MINER A L 0 G Y. Genus II.—Zinc Ore. Mineralogy Genus I.—TITANIUM-ORE. Prismatic. Hardness =4.0, 4.5. Sp. gr. Pyramidal, prismatic. Hardness =5.0, 6.5. Sp. gr. =3.1', 4.4. If sp. gr. less than 4.2, the — 6.3. streak is white or grey. 1. Prismatic Zinc-Ore,—Jameson. 1. Prismatic Tilanium-Ore, or Sphere,—Jameson. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Prismatisches Titan-erz, Mohs—Titane Siliceo- Cleavage P-}- oc = 125° (nearly). Traces of Pr-f-oo . calcaire, Hauy. (Fig. 30, 29-) Streak orange-yellow. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid =111? Description.—Colour red. Occurs massive, and 12'; 88° 47'; 131° 16'. P+co —103° 20'. Com- disseminated. Internally shining. Fracture con' p bination, hemiprismatic. -=111° 12'. Cleavage, choidal. Translucent on the edges, or opaque. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs p imbedded in primitive limestone and magnetic iron-. (Fig. 37-) Streak white or grey. Hardness = ore in Sussex county, and New Jersey, in North America. 5.0, —5.5. Sp. gr. =3.4, —3.6. Genus III.—Red Copper-Ore. Description Colours brown, yellow, green, grey, and white. Occurs regularly crystallized; in granuTessular. Hardness =3.5, —4.0. Sp. gr. =5.6, lar and lamellar distinct concretions, and massive. —6.0. Lustre ranges from splendent to glistening, and is adamantine. Fracture conchoidal. Ranges from trans1. Octahedral Red Copper-Ore.—Jameson. , parent to opaque. Octaedrisches Kupfererz, Mohs.—Roth Kupfererz, One set of varieties, in which brown is the predo- Werner.—Cuivre oxydule, Hauy. minating colour, is named common sphere, or brown Specific Character.—Tessular. Cleavage octahetitanium-ore; and another, in which the principal dral. Streak red. colours are yellow, and the cleavage distinct, is naDescription Colours red. Occurs regularly med yellow titanium-ore, ox foliated sphere, crystallized, and in granular distinct concretions; Geoo-nostic and Geographic Situations. — This mi- massive, disseminated, and in flakes. Lustre ranges neral occurs imbedded in syenite in Inverness-shire, from shining to glimmering, and is adamantine, inPerthshire, Galloway, and many other quarters of clining to semi-metallic. Fracture uneven. Ranges Scotland ; it also occurs in syenite rocks in England. from translucent to opaque. The varieties with cleavage are named foliated red 2. Pcritomous Titanium-Ore, or Rutile—Jameson. copper-ore ; those which are massive, glistening, and Peritomes Titan-erz, Mohs—Titan-oxyde, Hauy. opaque, compact red copper-ore ; and the varieties in —Rutil, Werner. capillary'' crystals, capillary red copper-ore. Specific Character—Pyramidal. Pyramid =117^ Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in 2'; 95° 13'. Cleavage, P-f-co. [I>-|-co!L Streak veins in gneiss, mica-slate, clay-slate, and greybrown. Hardness =6.0,—6.5. Sp. gr. =4.2,—4.4. wacke ; and in veins and beds in secondary rocks. Description.—Colours brown, red, yellow, and sometimes nearly velvet black. Occurs regularly The copper mines of Cornwall afford fine examples crystallized, massive, disseminated, in angular grains of this beautiful ore. and in flakes. Lustre metallo-adamantine and adaGenus IV.—Tin-Ore. mantine, and ranges from splendent to glistening. Zinnerz, Mohs. Fracture conchoidal. Ranges from transparent to Pyramidal. Streak not black. Hardness =6.0, opaque. The dark-brown and black opaque varieties are —7.0. Sp. gr. =6.3, —7.0. named nigrine; the others rutile. 1. Pyramidal Tin-Ore.—Jameson. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—The rutile Pyramidales Zinnerz, Mohs. varieties occur in the granite of Cairngorm ; at KilSpecific Character.—Pyramidal. Pyramid =133® lin, and in Ben-Gloe, in quartz rock. The nigrine 25'; 67° 59'. Cleavage P-f-go . [T+oo]. Streak varieties are met with at Ely, in Fifeshire, and also white, grey, and brown. in Bohemia and Transylvania. Description.—Colours brown, black, green, white, 3. Py ramidal Titanium, or Octahedrite—Jameson. yellow, and red. Occurs regularly crystallized ; alPyramidales Titan-erz, Mohs—Octaedrit, Wer- so reniform, botryoidal, and globular, and in delicate fibrous concretions. Externally splendent; interner.—Titane, Anatase, Hauy. Specific Character—Pyramidal. Pyramid =97° nally ranges from splendent to glimmering, and is 38'; 137° 10'. Cleavage,?—cc.P. Streak white. adamantine, inclining to resinous. Fracture uneven. Ranges from semi-ti-ansparent to opaque. Hardness =5.5, —6. 0. Sp. gr. =3.8, —3.9. The varieties in fibrous concretions are named Description Colours blue and brown. Occurs regularly crystallized. Lustre splendent and ada- mood-tin, the others common tinstone. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in mantine, inclining to semi-metallic. Translucent and granite, gneiss, mica-slate, clay-slate, porphyry, and transparent. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in in alluvial depositions. The mines of Cornwall afford all its varieties. veins in primitive rocks in Saxony and in Norway.

458 Mineralogy.

Mineralogy.

MINERALOGY. 459 V.—WoLFRAM-Ore. 1. Uncleavable Cerium-Ore.—Jameson. Mineralogy. Untheilbares Cerer-erz, Mohs—Cerer-erz, WerScheel-erz, Mohs. Prismatic. Hardness =5.0,—5.5. Sp.gr. =7.1, ner.—Cerium oxyde silicifere, Hauy. —7*4. Specific Character.—Massive. No cleavage. Description.—Colours red and brown. Occurs 1. Prismatic Wolfram.—Jameson. massive and disseminated. Internally glimmering, Prismatisches Scbeel-erz, Mohs Wolfram, Wer- and adamantine. Fracture splintery. Opaque. ner—Scheelin ferrugine, Haiiy. Geo^nostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid =115° a bed of copper pyrites in gneiss, near Ridderhyt23'i 98° 12'; 115° 23'. P+00=98° 12'. Com- tan, in Westmannland, in Sweden. • • . P bination hemi-prismatic,—=115° 23'. Cleavage, * Allanite, or Prismatic Cerium Ore. u 2 Colour brownish-black. Prismatic. P+oo =117° Pr+x, perfect. (Fig. 29.) Streak dark reddish(nearly.) Streak greenish-grey. Sp. gr. =3.5, brown. Description.—Colour brownish-black. Occurs re- 4.0. Found in West Greenland. gularly crystallized, and massive. Lustre ranges ** Cerin. from splendent to glistening, and is adamantine, inColour brownish-black. Prismatic. Cleavage clining to resinous. Fracture uneven. Opaque. prismatoidal. Streak yellowish grey...brown. HardGeognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in primitive rocks in the Island of Rona, one of the ness =5.5,—6.0. Sp. gr. =4.1, —4.3. Found in Sweden. Hebrides, and in Cornwall. Genus

Genus VI.—Tantalum-Ore. Tantal-erz, Mohs. Prismatic. Streak brownish-black. 6.0. Sp. gr. =6,0, —6.3.

Hardness =

Genus IX—Chrome-Ore. Chrom-erz, Mohs. Prismatic. Streak brown. Hardness =5.5. Sp. gr. =4.4, —4.5.

1. Prismatic Chrome-Ore, or Chromat of Iron Jameson. 1. Prismatic Tantalum-Ore—Jameson. Prismatisches Chrom-erz, Mohs Chrom-eisenPrismatisches Tantal-erz, Mohs. stein, Werner.—Fer chromate, Hauy. Specific Character. — Prismatic. Pyramid unSpecific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. known. Cleavage unknown. Cleavage prismatoidal. Description—Colour black. Occurs regularly Description—Colour intermediate between steelcrystallized; massive and disseminated. Lustre grey and iron-black, and sometimes passes into shining and glistening, and semi-metallic-adaman- brownish-black. Occurs regularly crystallized ; altine. Fracture uneven, or conchoidal. Opaque. so in granular distinct concretions ; massive and disGeognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in seminated. Internally shining and glistening, and granite in Finland ; in granite, along with beryl, imperfect metallic. Fracture uneven. Opaque. iolite, uran-mica, and iron pyrites, at Bodenmais, in Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in Bavaria. imbedded masses, and in veins in serpentine, por- ‘ phyry, and secondary trap. In Scotland it occurs Genus VII.—Uranium-Ore. principally in serpentine rocks, and more abundantly Uran-erz, Mohs. in the Shetland Islands than in any other quarter. Form unknown. Streak black. Hardness —5.5. Genus X.—Iron-Ore. Sp. gr. 6.4, —6.6. Eisen-erz, Mohs. 1. Uncleavable Uranium-Ore Jameson. Tessular, rhomboidal, prismatic. Hardness = Untheilbares Uran-erz, Mohs. Uran-pecherz, 5.0, —6.5. Sp. gr. =3.8, —5.2. If the streak is Werner.—Uran oxydule, Hauy. brown, the sp. gr. is below 4.2, or above 4.8. If the Specific Character.—Uncleavable, reniform, and streak is black, the sp. gr. is above 4.8. massive. No cleavage. 1. Octahedral Iron-Ore—Jameson. Description.—Colour black. Occurs in granular, Octaedrisches eisenerz, Mohs. Fer oxydule, lamellar, and prismatic concretions; also massive, and reniform. Lustre shining, and adamantine, in- Hauy.—Magnet-eisenstein, Werner. Specific Character.—Tessular. Cleavage octaheclining to semi-metallic. Fracture conchoidal, passdral. Streak black. Hardness =5.5, —6.5. Sp. ing into uneven. Opaque. Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in gr. 4.8, —5.2. Description.—Colour iron-black. Occurs reguveins in primitive rocks, along with native silver, red silver, iron and copper pyrites, galena, blende, and larly crystallized; in granular distinct concretions,and in loose grains; massive and disseminated. Lustre brown-spar. The only British locality is Cornwall. ranges from splendent to glistening, and is metallic. Genus VIII.—Cerium-Ore. Fracture uneven, or conchoidal. Opaque. The variety in grains is named iron-sand. The Cerer-erz, Mohs. Form unknown. Streak white. Hardness =5.5. other varieties, common magnetic iron ore. Sp. gr. =4.6, —5.0. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in YOL. V. PART II. 3 N

MINERALOGY. 460 * Bog Iron-Ore—Jameson. Mineralogy. Mineralogy, beds, often of vast thickness and great extent, in ^ rocks of the older formations, as gneiss, mica-slate, Raseneisenstein, Werner. v hornblende-slate, clay-slate, and primitive greenDescription.—Colour brown. Occurs massive, stone, variously disposed in granite, syenite, serpen- vesicular, corroded, amorphous, and tuberose. Some tine, and chlorite-slate ; less frequently in transition varieties are friable. Lustre ranges from glistening rocks, in veins, beds, and imbedded masses, as in to dull, and is semi-metallic-resinous. Fracture earthy transition porphyry ; and still less frequently in se- or conchoidal. Opaque. Yields a yellowish-grey condary trap-rocks. Ihe serpentine, chlorite, and streak. Brittle, and easily frangible. Sp. gr. =2.944. gneiss rocks of the Shetland Islands afford examples Geovnostic and Geographic Situations.—-It occurs of this ore; the same is the case on the Mainland of in alluvial soil and in peat-mosses in various places Scotland, both in primitive and secondary rocks. of Scotland, and in the Orkney, Shetland, and Western Islands. 2. Rhomboidal Iron-Ore.—Jameson. ** Lievrite. lenite. Ilvaite. Rhomboedrisches Eisen-erz, Mohs.—Fer oligiste, Hauy. , Fer Siliceo-calcaire, Hauy. Specific Character.—Rhomboidal. Rhomboid = Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid =1398 85° 58'. Cleavage R. Sometimes R—cc . Streak red,...reddish-brown. Hardness =5.5, —6-5. Sp. 57'; 1178 38'; 77S 16'. Cleavage Pr =113° 2'. P+oo=1123 37'. Pr+cc. None distinct. Cogr. =4.8, —5.2. . Description.—Colours dark steel-grey bordering on lour black. Streak black, inclining sometimes to iron-black, iron-black and brownish-red. Occurs re- green or brown. Hardness =5.5, — 6.0. Sp.gr. gularly crystallized ; in granular, lamellar, and fibrous =3.825, —4.06l. # distinct concretions ; massive, disseminated, reniform, Description.—Colour black, blackish green. Ocbotryoidal, stalactitic, and globular. Lustre ranges curs regularly crystallized; also in distinct concrefrom splendent to dull, and is metallic and semi-me- tions, which are scopiform radiated, or straight ratallic. Fracture conchoidal or earthy. Ranges from diated. Lustre glistening and semi-metallic. Fractranslucent to opaque. ture uneven. Opaque. The dark steel-grey and iron-black varieties, which Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs asare generally more or less regularly crystallized, are sociated with epidote, garnet, magnetic iron ore, and named specular iron-ore, or iron-glance ; the red va- arsenic pyrites, in limestone, in the Island of Elba ; rieties are named red iron-ore. and has been found in Norway and West Greenland. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—The speGenus XL—Manganese-Ore. cular iron-ore occurs in gneiss, granite, mica-slate, transition clay-slate, greywacke, and less frequently Mangan-erz, Mohs. in secondary rocks. The Island of Elba affords the Prismatic. Hardness =2.5, —6.0. Sp. gr. =4.3, richest and most beautiful varieties of specular iron- —4.8. ore, and specimens of considerable beauty are met with in Fitful-head in Shetland, and near Dunkeld in 1. Prismatic Manganese-Ore, or Black ManganesePerthshire. The red iron-ore occurs also in primitive Ore.—Jameson. rocks,but less frequently than in those of the transition Prismatisches Mangan-erz, Mohs. — Schwarzer class, as greywacke and transition clay-slate; and considerable depositions of it are met with in second- Braunstein and Schwarz-eisenstein, Werner.—Mun... ary sandstone districts. Ulverstone in Lancashire ganese oxyde, Hauy. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. and other parts of England afford beds and veins of Cleavage unknown, imperfect. Streak black, inclinthis ore. ing to brown. Hardness =5.0, -—6.0. 3. Prismatic Iron-Ore.—Jameson. Description.—Colours black and steel-grey. OcPrismatisches Eisen-erz, MoAs. —Braun Eisenstein, curs regularly crystallized; also in fibrous and lamelWerner. Fer oxyde, Hauy.—Fer Hydrate, Dau- lar distinct concretions; massive, tuberose, fruticose, reniform, and botryoidal. Lustre glimmering, glisbuisson. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. tening, and imperfect metallic. Fracture conchoidal ... ^ Cleavage prismatic. Streak yellowish-brown. Hard- and uneven. Opaque. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in ness =5.0, —5.5. Sp. gr. =3.8, —4.2. Description.—Colours brown and yellow. Occurs veins in primitive, transition, and secondary rocks in regularly crystallized; in granular, fibrous,, and la- Hanover, Saxony, &c. mellar distinct concretions; massive, stalactitic, cor* Scaly Brown Manganese-Ore.—Jameson. alloidal, reniform, botryoidal, tuberose, cylindrical, and fruticose. Lustre glimmering and semi-metalBrauner Eisenrahm, Werner. lic, inclining more or less to adamantine, tracture Description Colour between steel-grey and cloveuneven, even, conchoidal, or earthy. Translucent rown. Occurs in crusts, massive, spumous, frution the edges, or opaque. ose, and irregular dendritic. Friable, or friable Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in assing into soft. Composed of scaly particles, which veins, beds, lenticular masses, and mountain masses, re glistening and metallic. Soils. Feels greasy. in primitive, transition, and secondary rocks in Great )ccurs in the mines of Sandlodge, in Shetland. Britain, Germany, and other countries.

Mineralogy. 2. Prisrnatoidal Manganese- Ore, or Grey ManganeseOre.—Jameson. Prismatoidisches mangan-erz, Mohs.—Graubraunsteinerz, Werner. Specific Character.—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Cleavage, P-{~ oo . 100? (nearly). More distinct, Pr-f-ao. (Fig. 30, 29.) Streak black. Hardness —2.5,—3.0. Description—Colour dark steel-grey, inclining to iron-black. Occurs regularly crystallized; in granular, fibrous, and radiated distinct concretions. Lustre shining, glimmering, and metallic. Fracture conchoidal and earthy. Geognosiic and Geographic Situatio?is.—Occurs in veins and imbedded masses in primitive, transition, and secondary rocks. In Aberdeenshire, it occurs in primitive rocks; in Devonshire, in the vicinity of those of the transition class ; and in Cornwall, it is associated with clay-slate. * Earthy Grey and Brotvn Manganese-Ore, or Wad. —Jameson. Colours grey and brown. Occurs massive, botryoidal, and sometimes pulverulent. Internally dull, but the grey varieties are glimmering. Yields to the nail. It occurs along with the grey manganese-ore in Devonshire and Cornwall. ** Phosphat of Manganese. Pitchy Iron-ore, IFerwer.—Manganese Phosphate, Hauy. Colour between pitch-black and clove-brown. Occurs massive, and crystallized in oblique prisms. Cleavage, three perpendicular faces, of which one is less perfect than the others. Lustre glistening and resinous. Fracture conchoidal, inclining to even and uneven. Translucent on the edges. Streak yellowish-grey, and brown. Hardness =5.0,—5.5. Sp. gr. =3.430, Vauquelin. 3.775, Gilman. Occurs in disseminated masses in granite near Limoges, in France. Order IX—Native Metal. Lustre metallic. Not black. Hardness =0...5. Sp. gr. =5.7,—20. If grey, it is malleable, and the sp. gr. =7.4, and more. If the hardness =4.0, it is malleable. Genus I.—Arsenic. Form unknown. Tin-white, inclining to leadgrey. Hardness =3.5. Sp. gr. =5.7,—5.8. 1. Native Arsenic.—Jameson. Gediegen Arsenik, Werner and Arsenic natif, Hauy. Specific Character. — Regular form unknown. Cleavage unknown. Description.—Colour tin-white, which soon tarnishes black on exposure. Occurs massive, in plates, reniform, botryoidal, reticulated, and with impressions. Lustre glistening, glimmering, and metallic. Fracture uneven. Emits, when struck, a ringing sound, and an arsenical odour. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—It occurs in metalliferous veins, particularly where they cross

each other, in gneiss, mica-slate, clay-slate, and por- Mineralogy, phyry ; seldomer in transition and secondary rocks rarely in beds, and never in large quantity. The mines of Germany, Norway, France, and Russia, afford examples of this mineral. Genus II.—Tellurium. Form unknown. Tin-white. Hardness =2.0,— 2.5. Sp. gr. =6.1,—6.2. 1. Native TeZ/wriw?/*..—Jameson. Gediegenes Tellur, Mohs.—Gediegen Sylvan, Werner—Tellur natif, Hauy. Specific Character. — Regular form unknown. Cleavage unknown. Description.—Colour tin-white. Occurs in granular distinct concretions, massive, and disseminated. Lustre shining and metallic. Rather brittle, and easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in greywacke, in Transylvania, and also in Tellemark, in Norway. Genus III.—Antimony. Tessular, prismatic. Not ductile. White. Hardness =3.0,—3.5. Sp. gr. =6.5,—10.0. 1. Dodecahedral Antimony, or Native Antimony.— Jameson. Dodecaedrisches Antimon, Mo/js—Gediegen Spiesglas, Werner.—Antimoine natif, Haiiy. Specif,c Character.—Tessular. Cleavage octahedral. Dodecahedral. Description.—Colour tin-white. Occurs regularly crystallized; in granular and lamellar concretions ; massive, disseminated, and reniform. Lustre splendent and metallic. Geognostic a?id Geographic Situations Occurs in metalliferous veins in primitive rocks in Sweden, and in the mountains of Hanover, Dauphiny, Hungary, and Brazil. 2. Prismatic Antimony, or Anlimonial Silver.—• Jameson. Prismatisches Antimon, Mohs.—Spiesglas Silber, Werner.—Argent Antimonial, Hauy. Specific CAaracter.-Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Cleavage, P—00. Pr. Less distinct, P+—10-0. Description.—Colour between silver and tin-white. Occurs regularly crystallized, and massive. Lustre splendent and metallic. Sectile. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in veins in primitive and transition rocks in Furstenberg, Salzburg, Hartz, and Spain. Genus IV.—Bismuth. Tessular. Silver-white, inclining to red. ness =2.0,—2.5. Sp. gr. =8.5,—9 0.

Hard-

1. Octahedral Bismuth.—Jameson. Octaedrisches Wismuth, Mohs.—Gediegen Wis* muth, Werner Bismuth natif, Hauy. Specific Character—Tessular. Cleavage, octahedral.

462 Mineralogy.

MINERALOGY. Description.—~Co\owy silver-white. Occurs regu- neral in all its forms. The auriferous native silver Mineralogy, s larly crystallized ; massive, disseminated, dentiform, was formerly found in the mines of Konigsberg in —y— and in leaves with a plumose streaked surface. Lus- Norway ; and, at present, in those of Schlangenberg in Siberia. tre splendent and metallic. Malleable. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Genus VII—Gold. veins in primitive rocks, as gneiss, granite, micaTessular. Yellow. Hardness =2.0, —2.5. Sp. slate, and clay-slate, in Cornwall, Germany, France, gr. —12.0, —20.0. Norway, &c. 1. Hexahedral Gold.—Jameson. Genus V—Mercury. Hexaedrisches Gediegen Gold, Mohs.—Gediegen Tessular, liquid. Not malleable. White. Hard- Gold, Werner.—Or Natif, Huuy. ness = 0.0,—3.0. Sp. gr. =10.5, —15.0. Specific Character—Tessular. No cleavage. Description.—Colours gold-yellow and brass-yel1. Liquid Native Mercury—Jameson. low. Occurs regularly crystallized, massive, disseFliissiges Mercur, Mohs—Gediegen Quecksilber, minated, in flakes, in leaves, reticulated, capillary, Werner Mercur Natif, Hauy. dentiform, and in grains. Lustre shining, glistening, Specific Character—Liquid. Tin-white. Hard- and metallic. Fracture hackly. Opaque. ness = 0. Sp. gr. =12.0, —15.0. The gold-yellow varieties are named gold-yellovi Description.—Colour tin-white. Liquid. Splen- gold; the brass-yellow varieties, brass-yellow gold; dent and metallic. Opaque. those varieties, in which the brass-yellow verges on Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Rarely in steel grey, are named greyish-yellow gold; and, lastprimitive and transition rocks. More frequently in ly, the pale brass-yellow, inclining to silver-white, rocks of the coal formation. Deux-Ponts, Idria, and varieties are named electrum, or argentiferous gold. other European mining districts, afford examples of Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs in this metal. veins, and disseminated in granite, syenite, gneiss, mica-slate, hornblende-slate, porphyry, greywacke, 2, Dodecahedral Mercury, or Native Amalgam.— Jameson. clay-slate, &c.; also in various alluvial deposites. Dodecaedrisches Mercur, Mohs.—Natiirlich Amal- The mines of Germany, Hungary, and America, afford examples of the various mineralogical and geogam, Werner Mercur Argental, Hauy. Specific Character—Tessular. No cleavage. Sil- logical relations of this important mineral. ver-white. Hardness =1.0, —3.0. Sp. gr. =10.5, Genus VIII.—Platina. —!2.5. Form unknown. Steel-grey. Hardness =4.0, Description.—Colour silver-white. Occurs regu—4.5. Sp. gr. =16.0, —20.0. larly crystallized. Lustre shining and metallic. Fracture uneven. When pressed between the fingers, or 1. Native Platina.—.Jameson. cut with a knife, it emits a creaking sound, like artiGediegen Platin, Werner, Mohs.—Platin Natif, ficial amalgam. Hauy. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Specific Character.—Form unknown. No Cleav/ Deux- Ponts, and other mercury mines, along with age. cinnabar Description.—Colour pale steel-grey, approaching Genus VI.—Silver. to silver-white. Occurs in flat grains and rolled Tessular. Ductile. Silver-white. Hardness = pieces. Lustre shining and metallic. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.——Occurs in 2.5, —3.0. Sp. gr. 10.0, —10.5. alluvial soil, along with grains and loose crystals of 1. Hexahedral Silver—Jameson. chrome-ore, magnetic iron-ore, iron and copper pyHexaedrischesSilber, Mohs.—Argent Natif, Hauy. rites, osmium, iridium, zircon, spinel, quartz, and native gold, in New Grenada, and Brazil in South Specific Character—Tessular. No cleavage. Description Colour silver-white, and silver-white America. * Osmium-Iridium— Colour steel-grey, slightly inclining to brass-yellow. Occurs regularly crystallized, massive, disseminated, dentiform, filiform, re- inclining to silver-white. Occurs in six-sided prisms, ticulated, and in leaves. Lustre metallic, and ranges and in grains. Lustre shining and metallic. Hardfrom splendent to glimmering. Fracture hackly. er than platina. Not malleable. Sp. gr. =19*5Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Opaque. The yellow varieties are named auriferous native the same districts in South America, and in the same silver, from their containing a portion of gold; the alluvial formation as affords the platina. other varieties common native silver. ** Native Palladium.—Co\ouv steel-grey, inclinGeognostic and Geographic Situations.—Common ing to silver-white. Occurs in loose grains. Lustre native silver occurs in veins, generally occupying shining and metallic. Sp. gr. =11.8,—12.14-. their middle or upper parts ; and those veins traverse Geognostic and Geographic Situations. — Occurs granite, gneiss, mica-slate, clay-slate, hornblende-slate, along with platina in alluvial districts in Brazil.. syenite, and porphyry in primitive mountains, and Genus IX—Iron. grey wacke in transition mountains. It rarely occurs Tessular. Pale steel-grey. Hardness 4.5. Sp. in secondary rocks, as in sandstone. The mines of Cornwall, Saxony, Hungary, Mexico, afford this mi- gr. =7.4, —7.8. ff

463 MINERALOGY. Mineial met with at Leadhills and Wanlockhead, and in the °gy.Mineralogy. 1. Octahedral Iron—Jameson. coal-field of West Lothian. * Nickel Ochre Colour apple-green. Occurs Octaedrisches Eisen, Mohs. — Gediegen Eisen, as a thin coating, seldom massive, and disseminated. Werner Fer Natif, Hauy. Dull. Fracture uneven or earthy. Opaque, or Specific Character.—Tessular. No cleavage. Description Colour pale steel-grey. Occurs ra- translucent on the edges. Soft. Feels meagre. It mose, and disseminated in meteoric stones. Lustre occurs in mineral veins along with copper-nickel at glimmering, glistening, and metallic. Fracture Alva in Stirlingshire, in Linlithgowshire, and at Leadhills. hackly. ** Black Nickel.—Colour black. Occurs masGeographic Situation—It is a meteoric production, and has been observed to fall from fireballs in sive, disseminated, in crusts. Dull. Fracture earthy. Opaque. Soft. Shining in streak. Soils slightly. Europe, Asia, and America. N.B.—Native iron is mentioned as having been It occurs in veins in bituminous marl-slate at Riemet with imbedded in graphite in the State of New gelsdorf in Hessia. York in America, and in metallic sulphurets in South Genus II.—Arsenic Pyrites. America; and native steel is enumerated amongst the Prismatic. Hardness =5.0,—6.0. Sp. gr. =5.7' pseudo-volcanic productions of the department of —7*4. If white, the sp. gr. =6.2, and less. If grey, Allier in France. the sp. gr. above 6.8. Genus X—Copper. 1. Axotomous Arsenic Pyrites.—Jameson. Tessular. Copper-red. Hardness —2.5, —3.0. Axentheilender Arsenik-kies, Mohs.—Arsenk-kies, Sp. gr. =8.4-, —8.9. Werner. 1. Octahedral Copper.—Jameson. Specific Character Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Octaedrisches Kupfer, Mohs.—Gediegen Kupfer, Cleavage P—00. Less distinct P-f-co • (Fig 27, 30.) Pale steel-grey. Hardness =5-0, —5.5. Sp. gr. = Werner. 6.9, —7.4. Specific Character—Tessular. No cleavage. Description. — Colour pale steel-grey. Occurs Description.—Colour copper-red. Occurs regularly crystallized; massive, dendritic, capillary, bo- massive. Lustre metallic and shining. Its locality unknown. tryoidal, and ramose. Lustre glistening and metallic. Fracture hackly. 2. Prismatic Arsenic Pyrites.-—Jameson. Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs Prismatischer Arsenik-kies, Mohs—Arsenik-kies, in granite, gneiss, mica-slate, clay-slate, primitive Werner—Fer Arsenical, Hauy. limestone, syenite, serpentine, greywacke, secondary Specific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid =154° limestone, sandstone, and generally in small veins; also in grains, and sometimes in blocks many 48'; 100° 34'; 84° 56'. P+*>, 147° 3'. Cleavpounds weight, in alluvial districts. It occurs in ser- age P— 00. (Pr-foo )3 —1110 19'. (Fig. 27> 32.) pentine in Shetland, and in the copper mines of White, inclining to steel-grey. Hardness =5.5,— Cornwall. Large masses are met with in alluvial 6.0. Sp. gr. =5-7,—6-2. districts in the northern parts of North America. Description—Colour silver-white. Occurs regularly crystallized; in prismatic concretions, massive Order X—Pyrites. and disseminated. Lustre ranges from splendent Metallic lustre. Hardness =3.5,—6.5. Sp.gr- to glistening, and is metallic. Fracture uneven. If hardness =4.5, and less, the speci- Opaque. Brittle. =4.1, —7.7 Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—This mific gravity is less than 5.0. If sp. gr. —5.3, and neral occurs in a variety of metalliferous formations less, the colour is yellow or red. in primitive mountains, and also in those of the tranGenus I.—Nickel Pyrites, or Copper-Nickel. sition and secondary classes. In Scotland it occurs in Prismatic. Hardness =5.0,—5.5. Sp. gr. = secondary rocks in Stirlingshire, and in considerable quantity in the mines of Devon and Cornwall. 7.5, —7.7. Genus III.—Cobalt Pyrites. 1. Prismatic Nickel Pyrites.—Jameson. Tessular. Hardness =5.5. Sp. gr. =6-0,—6.6. Prismatischer Nickel-kies, Mohs—Kupfer-Nickel, Werner Nickel Arsenical, Hauy. 1. Hexahedral Cohalt-Pyrites, or Silver-White Specific Character, — Prismatic. Pyramid unCobalt. —Jam eson. known. Cleavage unknown. Copper-red. Hexaedrischer Kobalt-kies, Mohs.—G\anz. KoDescription.—Colour copper-red. Rarely crystallized ; in granular distinct concretions ; massive, dis- bold, Werner.—Cobalt gris, Hauy. Specific Character.—Tessular. Combination seseminated, reticulated, dendritic, fruticose, globular, and botryoidal. Lustre shining and metallic. Frac- mitessular of parallel planes. Cleavage hexahedral and perfect. White, inclining to red. Hardture conchoidal. Brittle. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—'Occurs in ness =5.5. Sp. gr. =6.1,—6.3. Description.—Colour silver-white, inclining to silver and cobalt veins in gneiss, mica-slate, clayslate, and syenite; also in veins in secondary rocks, copper-red. Occurs regularly crystallized; in graparticularly bituminous marl-slate. In Scotland it is nular distinct concretions, massive, disseminated.

MINERALOGY. 461 Mineralogy. and reticulated. Lustre shining, glistening, and me1. Hexahedral Iron-Pyrites.—Jameson. Mineralogy. tallic. Fracture conchoidal. Brittle. Easily franHexaedrischer Eisen-Kies, Mohs. — Gemeiner gible. Schwefel-Kies, Werner—-Fer Sulphure, Hauy. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs Specific Character.—Tessular. Combination, semiin beds, in mica slate, associated with iron and tessular of parallel planes. Bronze-yellow. Hardness copper-pyrites, magnetic iron-ore, anthophyllite, =6.0, —6.5. Sp. gr. =4.7,—5.0. tourmaline, felspar, &c. in parish of Modum, in NorDescription.—Colour bronze-yellow, sometimes inway, also at Tunaberg, in Sweden. In some transi- clining to steel-grey. Occurs regularly crystallized ; tion districts it is found in veins along with various in granular concretions, massive, disseminated, gloores of iron and copper. bular, and cellular. Lustre ranges from shining to glimmering, and is metallic. Fracture uneven and 2. Octahedral Cobalt-Pyrites, or Tin’White Co- conchoidal. Opaque. Brittle. balt.—Jameson. Geognoslic and Geographic Situations.—The celOctaedrischer Cobalt-kies, Mohs.—Weisser Speis- lular varieties are rare, and hitherto have been met kobald, JFerHCT.—Cobalt Arsenical, Hauy. with principally in Saxony; while the others occur Specific Character.—TessuXar. Cleavage hexahe- in all countries, and more or less extensively distridral, octahedral, dodecahedral, but very indistinct; buted through rocks of every description, from those sometimes the hexahedral is more distinct. Tin- of the oldest primitive, to the newest alluvial formawhite, inclining to steel-grey. Hardness =:5.5. Sp. tions. gr. —6.0,—6.6. 2. Prismatic Iron Pyrites.—Jameson. Description.—Colour tin-white, inclining to steelgrey. Occurs regularly crystallized; in lamellar Prismatischer Eisenkies, Mohs.—Fer Sulphure and granular concretions; massive, disseminated, re- Blanc, Hauy. ticulated, fruticose, specular. Lustre shining, splenSpecific Character—Prismatic. Pyramid =115° dent, and metallic. Fracture uneven. Brittle, and 53'; 89° 11'; 125° 16'. Cleavage, P+oo =106° easily frangible. 36'. (Fig. 30.) Colour bronze-yellow. Hardness Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in =6.0, —6.5. Sp. gr. =4.7, —5.0. veins in primitive and transition rocks; also in old Description. — Colour bronze-yellow, inclining red sandstone, and in copper-slate. Cornwall, Hes- sometimes to steel-grey, or to brass-yellow. Ocsia, Thuringia, Hartz, &c. afford many localities of curs regularly crystallized; in radiated, granular, this mineral. and lamellar concretions; massive, dendritic, reniform, globular, stalactitic, botryoidal, fruticose, and * Grey Cobalt Pyrites.—Jameson. with impressions. Lustre varies from glistening to Grauer Speisskobalt, Werner.—Cobalt Arsenical glimmering, and is metallic. Opaque. Brittle. EasiAmorphe, Hauy. ly frangible. On the fresh fracture is steel-grey, but on exThe varieties in radiated concretions are named posure becomes greyish-black. Occurs massive, radiated pyrites ; those in which the colour inclines tubiform, and specular. Lustre glimmering, glis- to brass-yellow, and which, on exposure to air, actening, and metallic, but the specular variety is quire a brown tarnish, are named hepatic pyrites ; splendent. Fracture uneven, conchoidal, or even. those in spear-shaped twin and triple crystals, spearBrittle. Shining in streak. Same hardness as pyrites ; and lastly, those in which the crystals are hexahedral cobalt-pyrites. Brittle. Sp. gr. =7.0. so aggregated as to have the form of the comb of Occurs in veins in primitive rocks in Cornwall. the cock, are named cockscomb-pyrites. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—This spe** Co&aft-Azes.—Haussmann. cies of iron-pyrites occurs more frequently and abunColour pale steel-grey, which on exposure be- dantly in newer than in older formations. The newcomes nearly copper-red. Occurs massive, disse- est secondary formations, and those of the alluvial minated, and in cubes. Lustre shining and metallic. class, both in this jisland and on the continent of Fracture uneven or conchoidal. Semihard. Occurs in a bed of copper pyrites in gneiss, at Riddarhy- Europe, afford numerous localities of the radiated varieties. The spear-pyrites is met with in Bohemia tan, in Sweden. and Saxony ; and the cockscomb-pyrites in veins in Derbyshire, and in some mines in Saxony. *** Radiated Tin-white Cobalt Pyrites.—Jameson. Strahliger Weisser Speisskobald, Werner. 3. Rhomboidal Iron-Pyrites.—Jameson. Rhomboedrischer Eisenkies, Mohs—Magnetkies, Colour tin-white, passing into steel-grey. Occurs massive, disseminated, and reniform ; also in scopi- Werner.—Fer Sulphure Ferrifere, Hauy. form and stellular radiated, and fibrous concretions. Specific Character Rhomboidal. Rhomboid unLustre glistening and metallic. Fracture uneven. known. Combination di-rhomboidal. Cleavage, R Softer than octahedral cobalt pyrites. Occurs in —oo . Less distinct P-{- oo . Colour bronze-yellow, Saxony and Norway, but is a rare mineral. inclining to copper-red. Hardness =3.5, —4.5. Sp. gr. 4.4,—4.7* Genus IV—Iron Pyrites. Description. Colours intermediate between Tessular, rhomboidal, prismatic. Yellow. Hard- bronze-yellow and copper-red. Occurs rarely crystallized; in granular concretions, also massive and disness = 3.5, —6.5. Sp. gr. =4.4', —5.0. 4

MINER Mineralogy, seminated. Lustre ranges from splendent to glistening, and is metallic. Fracture conchoidal and uneven. Opaque. Brittle. Easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations This mineral occurs disseminated in primitive and transition rocks, and also disposed in beds in rocks of the same classes, in Scotland, England, Saxony, &c. Genus V.—Copper Pyrites. Pyramidal. Hardness =3.5, —4.0. Sp. gr. = 4.1, 4.3. 1. Pyramidal Copper-Pyrites, or Yelloiv Conver-Pyrites.—Jameson. Pyramidaler Kupfer-kies, Mohs Kupfer-kies, Werner—Cuivre pyriteux, Hauy. Specific Character—Pyramidal. Pyramid 109° 53'; 108° 40'. Combination hemi-pyramidal, of inclined planes. Cleavage, P+1 = 101° 49'; 126° 11'. Brass-yellow. Description.—Colour brass-yellow. Occurs regularly crystallized ; massive, disseminated, in flakes, dendritic, reniform, botryoidal, stalactitic, and specular. Internally shining, glimmering, and metallic. Fracture uneven and conchoidal. Brittle, and easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations This species of pyrites is found in all the great classes of rocks, apd not only in veins, but also in beds, and in vast imbedded masses. The copper mines in England afford it in great variety and abundance; and it occurs also in Scotland, but in smaller quantities. Undetermined Pyrites. 1. Nickeliferous Grey Antimony. Antimoine Sulphure Nickelifere, Hauy. Tessular. Cleavage, hexahedral, perfect. Metallic lustre. Colour steel-grey, somewhat inclining to silver-white. Hardness —5.0,—5.5- Sp. gr'. =6.4, —6.6. Occurs in veins along with galena, sparryiron, and copper-pyrites, in the principality of Nassau. 2. Tin-Pyrites. Etain Sulphure, Hauy. Colour intermediate between steel-grey and brassyellow. Occurs massive, and disseminated. Internally glistening, shining, and metallic. Fracture uneven, inclining to conchoidal. Brittle, and easily frangible. Hardness =4-0. Sp. gr. =4.350, Klaproth. Occurs in copper mines in Cornwall. Order XI.—Glance. Lustre metallic. Grey, black. Hardness =1.0. —4.0. Sp. gr. =4.0, —7.6. If sp. gr. under 5.0, and cleavage monotomous, the colour is lead-grey, If sp. gr. above 7. 4, the colour is lead-grey. Genus I.—Copper-Glance. Tessular, prismatic. Hardness =2.5, 4.0. Sp. gr. =4. 4, __.5.8. If sp. gr. above 5.0, the colour is blackish-lead-grey. If sp. gr. under 5.0, it is steel-grey, or black.

A L 0 GY.

460

1. Tetrahedral Copper-Glance.—J&vaQson. Mineralogy. Tetraedrischer Kupfer-glanz, Mohs. Fahlerz. Schwarzerz, Werner.—Cuivre gris, Hauy. Specific Character—Tessular. Combination semi-tessular of inclined planes. Cleavage, octahedral. Colour steel-grey,...iron-black. Hardness — 3.0, —4.0. Sp. gr. =4.4, —4.9. Description—Colour steel-grey, and iron-black. Occurs regularly crystallized, massive, and disseminated. Lustre externally splendent and metallic, internally shining, or glistening, and metallic. Fracture conchoidal or uneven. Opaque, brittle, and easily frangible. I he grey varieties are named grey coppery the black, black copper. Geognostic and Geographic Situations The grey varieties occur in veins in transition granite, and syenite, at Fassney Burn, in East-Lothian ; at Airthrie, in Stirlingshire; in Ayrshire, and in Devonshire. The black varieties are found in transition rocks, at Claasthal, in the Hartz. 2. Prismatoidal Copper-Glance.—Jameson. Prismatoidischer Kupfer-glanz, Mohs.—Prismatic Antimony Glance, J. Specific Character Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Cleavage, Pr-foo. (Fig. 29.) Blackish lead-grey. Brittle. Hardness =3.0. Sp. gr. = 5.7,—5.8. Description—Colour blackish lead-grey. Crystals in oblique four-sided prisms. Lustre shining and metallic. 3. Prismatic Copper-Glance, or Vitreous Copper Jameson. Prismatischer Kupfer-glanz, Mohs.—Kupferglas, Werner—Cuivre Sulphure, Hauy. Specific Character Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Cleavage, P4-oo—120° (nearly). Pr^-foo. (Fig. 30, 29.) Sectile in a high degree. Blackish lead-grey. Hardness —2.5, —3.0. Sp. gr. =5.5, —5.8. Description—Colour blackish lead-grey. Occurs regularly crystallized, also in granular concretions, and massive. Lustre glistening, glimmering, and metallic. Fracture conchoidal and uneven. Opaque. Sectile, and rather easily frangible. Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in veins at Fassney Burn; in the rocks of Fair Isle; in Yorkshire, Caernarvonshire, and Cornwall. * Variegated Copper Jameson. Buntkupfererz, Werner—Cuivre Pyriteux Hepatique, Hauy. Colour between copper-red and pinchbeck-brown, but soon obtains a variegated tarnish. Occurs in cubes truncated on the angles, and massive. Lustre shining and metallic. Cleavage octahedral. Fracture conchoidal. Sp. gr. =5.03. Geognostic and Geographic Situations Occurs in veins in primitive, transition, and secondary rocks. Found in Cornwall and other mining districts. ** Argentiferous Copper-Glance. Silber Kupfer-glanz, Hausmann.

M 1 N E R A L O G Y. Description—Colour lead-grey. Occurs regular- Mineralogy, Colour blackish lead-grey. Massive, and disse. ly crystallized; in granular, prismatic, and lamellar minated. Internally shining or glistening, and metallic. Fracture flat, conchoidal. Lustre increased concretions ; massive, disseminated, specular, reticuin the streak. Soft. Sectile. Rather difficultly lated, botryoidal, and corroded. Lustre splendent frangible. Sp. gr. —6.255, Stromeyer. Occurs along to glimmering and metallic. Fracture even, or flat with copper-pyrites, calcareous spar, and hornstone, conchoidal. Fragments cubical. Sectile. Uncommonly easily frangible. at Schlangenberg, in Siberia. The variety with glimmering lustre, and even or *** Plumbiferous Copper-Glance. conchoidal fracture, is named compact galena. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—This miBleifahlerz, Hausmann. neral, which is the species from which all the lead of Prismatic. Cleavage, P—co . Less distinct, commerce is obtained, occurs in every lead mine, P-f-oo =95° (nearly). Pr-f-oo. Pr-f-oo. Metallic whether in primitive, transition, or secondary rocks. lustre. Steel-grey, inclining to lead-grey. Hardness =2.5,—3.0. Sp. gr. =5.7,—5.8. Occurs in * Blue Lead.—Jameson. veins that traverse clay-slate in the Hartz. Blau Bleierz, Werner. Description—Colour between dark indigo-blue **** Tennantite—Phillips. Tessular. Cleavage, dodecahedral. Colour lead- and dark lead-grey. Occurs massive, and in sixgrey, inclining to iron-black. Streak reddish-grey. sided prisms. Is glimmering and metallic. FracHardness —4.0. Sp. gr. =4.375, Phillips. Occurs ture uneven, or small conchoidal. Opaque. Streak shining. Sectile, and easily frangible. Is rare, and in veins of copper-ore in Cornwall. hitherto has been found principally in lead mines in Saxony and France. ***** Eulcairite, or Seleniferous Copper-Glance.— Berzelius. Genus IV—Tellurium-Glance, or Black TelColour lead-grey. Occurs massive. Lustre shinlurium. ing and metallic. Fracture fine grained, uneven. Tellur-Glanz, Mohs. Opaque. Soft. Can be cut with the knife, and rePrismatic. Cleavage, montomous. Hardness — ceives an impression from the hammer. Streak shining. Powder of streak-grey. This remarkable copper- 1.0,—1.5. Sp. gr. =7-0,—7-2. glance, which contains twenty-six parts of the new 1. Prismatic Tellurium-Glance—Jameson. metal named Selenium, occurs in an old copper Prismatischer Tellur-glanz, Mohs—Nagyagerz, mine in Smaland, in Sweden. Werner.—Tellure natif auro-plombifere, Hauy. Genus II Silver-Glance, or Vitreous Silver. Specific C/zorcrc^r—Prismatic. Pyramid unknown. Silber-glanz, Mohs. Cleavage, axotomous, or prismatoidal, and very perTessular. Blackish lead-grey. Hardness =2.0, fect. Blackish lead-grey. Iron black. Description.—Colour blackish lead-grey, and iron—2.5. Sp. gr. =6.9, —7-2. black. Occurs regularly crystallized; massive, disI. Hexahedral Silver-Glance—Jameson. seminated, and in leaves. Lustre splendent and Hexaedrischer Silber-glanz, —Glaserz, Wer- metallic. Sectile. ner Argent Sulphure, Hauy. Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—Occurs in Specific Character.—Tessular. Cleavage not dis- veins that traverse porphyry, in Transylvania. cernible. Malleable. Description.—Colour blackish lead-grey. Occurs Genus V.—Molybdena, or Molybdena-Glance. regularly crystallized ; massive, disseminated, in Molybdiin-Glanz, Mohs. plates, dentiform, filiform, capillary, reticulated, denRhomboidal. In thin leaves. Easily flexible. Harddritic, stalactitic, and with impressions. Lustre shining, glistening, and metallic. Fracture uneven or ness —1.0, —1.5. Sp. gr. —4.4, —4.6. conchoidal. Completely malleable. Flexible, but not 1. Rhomboidal Molybdena—Jameson. elastic. Rhomboedrischer Molybdan, Mohs.—Wasserblei, Geognostic and Geographic Situations.—It is one of the most common of the ores of silver. It was Werner.—Molybdene sulphure, Hauy. Specific Character—-Rhomboidal. Rhomboid unformerly met with at Airthrie in Stirlingshire, and known. Combination di-rhomboidal. Cleavage is still found in the mines of Cornwall. R—x , perfect. Pure lead-grey. Genus III—Galena, or Lead-Glance. Description—Colour fresh lead-grey. Occurs reTessular. Pure lead-grey. Hardness =2.5. Sp. gularly crystallized; massive, disseminated, in plates, and in granular concretions. Lustre splendent or shingr. =7.0,—7-6. ing and metallic. Sectile, approaching to malleable. 1. Hexahedral Galena, or Lead-Glance.—Jameson. Geognostic and Geographic Situations—Occurs Hexaedrischer Bleiglanz, Mohs Bleiglanz, Wer- imbedded in granite and syenite at Peterhead; in chlorite-slate in Glenelg; in granite and syenite in ner.— Plomb sulphure, Hauy. Specific Character—Tessular. Cleavage, hexa- Corybuy, at the head of Loch Creran, and in various mines in Cornwall. hedral.

466 Mineralogy.

Mineralogy.

M I N E R A L O G Y. 467 « Molybdena Ochre. a metallic currency, and to keep its value on a par the terms of contracts are not particularly and dis-riedon‘ with the value of gold or silver, without making the tinctly specified. But a very short time only could paper exchangeable for coined money, and, con- elapse before individuals, who were in possession of sequently, without requiring the circulation of a written obligations from others, would begin to transsingle gold or silver coin. This is a very import- fer them to those to whom they were indebted, and ant discovery. It gives us all the security of gold mo- after the advantages derivable from employing them ney > 'without any portion of its expence ; and the cur- in this way had been ascertained, it was an obvious rency of any country in which it was adopted, would source of emolument for individuals in whose wealth certainly approach very near the limits of perfection. and discretion the public had confidence to issue The discussion of the principles of this plan is per- their obligations to pay certain sums, in such a form haps the most important part of our subject, and will as might fit them, to be easily applied to perform the require to be treated at considerable length. * functions of a circulating medium in the ordinary transactions of life. No one would refuse to accept the Sect. V.—Paper Money.—Principle on which its promissory note or obligation of an individual of large fortune, and of whose solvency no doubt could be enValue is maintained. tertained, in payment of any debt that might be due In the earliest periods of society, subsequent to to him. But as full value must have been originally

* The following estimate of the value of the gold and silver coins, now current in the principal European states, will, we believe, be found to be nearly correct: Gold and silver coins of Great Britain, as per estimate in next section, The value of the gold and silver currency of France has been, as we have just seen, estimated by Peuchet at 1850 millions of francs, or . . The value of the gold and silver currency of Spain was, in 1782, estimated by the Minister of Finance, M. Musquiz (Bourgoing, Modern State of Spain, Vol. II. p. 55. Eng. Trans.'), at 80 millions of hard piastres, or . . . The value of the gold and silver money of the Austrian monarchy, in 1807, is estimated by M. Storch (Economic Politique, Tom. VI. p. 80), after Hassel, at only 53y millions of florins; but so considerable a quantity of the compulsory paper, which had banished the gold and silver money from the country, has since been suppressed, that we may reasonably suppose the value of the coins now current in the Austrian monarchy to be doubled since that period, or to amount at present to 106 millions of florins, or ..... The gold and silver coins of the Prussian monarchy were estimated by Professor Krug (Storch, uhi supra), in 1805, at 60 millions of crowns, or And the gold and silver coins of Russia were estimated by M. Storch (id.), in 1815, at 45 millions of roubles, or .... .

20 millions Sterling. 74 18

11 8|

139 We regret we have no means of forming any tolerably correct estimate of the value of the gold and silver currency of Portugal, Italy, Switzerland, Germany, Belgium, Denmark, Sweden, and Turkey in Europe. It is most probable, however, that we shall be within the mark, if we estimate it at two-thirds of the value of the coins in circulation in the other countries, or at 92§ millions, which would give 231 § millions as the value of the aggregate currency of Europe. The expence of this currency, supposing profits to be 10 per cent. and one-fiftieth to be annually wasted, would rather exceed 2? millions a-year ! The value of the gold and silver annually dug from the mines of the Old and New World has been estimated (Bullion Report, Appendix of Accounts, No. 33) at 45£ millions of dollars, or L.10,237,500. We subjoin the general results of this estimation. Dollars. Value of gold and silver annually brought into' circulation, 45,762,803 From From From From

the Old World, the New World, Spanish America, Portuguese America,

5,049,408 40,713,395 36,196,736 4,439,040

MONEY. given for the promissory note, it is clear that while commodation to a bank whose notes are a legal ten- Money, continuance in circulation could be no loss to the der. The presenter of a bill for discount is quite public, it would be a very great source of profit to indifferent whether the notes which are given to the issuer. Suppose, for example, that a merchant him in exchange for it are payable in specie or issues a promissory note for L.10,000, he must, pre- not. His object, in resorting to the bank, is to viously to bis putting it in circulation, either have exchange his promissory note for money—that is, received an equivalent sum of ready money, or of for paper that will be received in payment of bis some sort of commodities possessed of real value, or, debts, or of whatever commodities he may be desirwhich is the most common case, he must have ad- ous of purchasing. It is, therefore, of no moment to vanced it to an individual who had given him securi- him, whether those who are entrusted with the power ty for its repayment, with interest. In point of fact, of issuing paper, have issued so much as to depress therefore, the issuer has exchanged his promise to its value relatively to gold, or whether they have repay L.10,000 for the profits to be derived from the stricted their issues so as to sustain its value on a level employment of areal capital of L.10,000; and so with the value of that metal. These circumstances, long as the promissory note, the intrinsic worth of it is true, affect the permanent interest of every class which cannot well exceed a sixpence, remains in cir- of society, whose incomes cannot be made to vary culation, he will, supposing profits to be 10 per cent., with every variation in the value of money : but, in receive from it a revenue of L.1000 a-year. It is on as much as the money prices of goods rise and fall this principle that the business of banking is con- with every increase or diminution of the supply of ducted. A banker could make no profit if he were paper, merchants, who are the principal demanders obliged to keep as much dead stock in his coffers as of discounts, are comparatively but little affected by was equal to the amount of his notes in circulation. its fluctuations. The merchant who presents a bill But if be is in good credit, a fourth or a fifth part of for L. 500 or L. 1000 to a bank, has acquired this this sum will perhaps be sufficient; and his profits, bill, if it has arisen out of a real commercial transacafter the expences of the establishment, and of the tion, in lieu of a certain quantity of goods, which, manufacture of his notes, are deducted, will be mea- at the then value of money, were worth L. 500 or sured by the excess of the profit derived from the L. 1000 ; and it is this L. 500 or L. 1000 which, by notes he has in circulation, over that of the profit he presenting the bill to the bank, he wishes to obtain. might have realised by the employment of the stock If the value of money bad been different, the price he is obliged to keep in his coffers to meet the de- of the goods, and consequently the sum for which mands of the public. lf A bank would never be es- the bill was drawn, would also have been differtablished, if it obtained no other profits but those de- ent. It is to this market value of money at the rived from the employment of its own capital: its time that, in all commercial transactions, attention real advantage commences only when it employs the is exclusively paid. When, in 1809, 1810, 1811, capital of others.” (Proposalsjbr an Economical and 1812, 1813, and 1814, the Bank of England issued such a quantity of paper, as to depress its value from Secure Currency, p. 87.) Limitation As no means have been devised to limit the sup- 10 to 25 per cent, below the value of bullion, the cirof supply p]y of the promissory notes issued by private indivi- cumstance of an act of Parliament having declared, sufficient to duals, their value, it is plain, could not be maintained that its notes should be paid in cash at the restoration those valueof116 by whom they were issued fell into discredit, of peace, had as little effect in raising their value, as Bank Paper, or if they were relieved from their promise to pay their depreciation had in diminishing the applicants them. But it is otherwise with the promissory notes for discounts. The truth is, that individuals never issued by the state, or by an exclusive company act- resort to a bank for a supply of paper money, unless ing under its control. The quantity of such notes they have immediate occasion for its services. After may be effectually limited ; and we have shown that, it has been obtained, they throw it into the market when this is the case, intrinsic worth is not necessary for whatever it will bring; and as they purchased it to a currency, and that, by properly regulating the on the same terms (for it is seldom that the value of supply of paper money which has been declared to money can be materially affected in the short interbe a legal tender in all payments, its value may be val between the time that a bill is discounted and when sustained on a par with the value of gold, or of any it becomes due), they generally get as much for it, other commodity. It was by acting on this principle and perhaps more, than it cost. We shall immeof limitation, or, which was in effect the same thing, diately explain what it is which constitutes the naby restricting the issues of the Bank of Kngland, and tural limit to the applications for paper money ; but not from any vague and confused idea that its notes we have said enough to show, that it has nothing wmuld at some future and indefinite period be paid in whatever to do with the convertibility of notes into gold, that their value was maintained in the interval cash. Those who have recourse to a bank to obtain disbetween the passing of the restriction act in 1797, and the commencement of bullion payments in 1820. counts of accommodation bills, like the presenters of No rational or intelligible explanation of this cir- real bills, consider only the present value of money. cumstance—a circumstance so much at variance with Accommodation bills are never discounted, except all the old theories of paper money—can be deduced with the view of immediately employing the money from any other principle. The circumstance of so obtained, either in the purchase of commodities, their being depreciated never creates any indisposi- or of labour, or in the payment of debts: and, whetion on the part of the public to apply for ac- ther one pound notes are of the value of 10s. or 20s.

504 Money,

M O N E Y. 505 Money, is obviously of no consequence ; in as much as the directors and proprietors of the bank would not avail Money, amount of the bill presented for discount is regulat- themselves of such an opportunity to amass wealth ed accordingly. and riches ? Is it to be supposed, that if the governThe circumstance of the circulation of country ment enables a private gentleman to exchange a bit bank notes ceasing as soon as any general suspicion of paper for an estate, he will be deterred from dois entertained of the solvency of those by whom they ing so by any considerations about its effect in sinkare issued, is nowise inconsistent with this principle. ing the value of the currency of the country ? In Country bank notes are rendered exchangeable, at Loo Choo we might perhaps meet with such a disthe pleasure of the holder, for Bank of England interested individual, but if we expect to find him in notes ; but since the epoch of the restriction down Europe, we shall assuredly be disappointed. In this to 1820, the latter not being exchangeable for any quarter of the globe, we are far too eager in the other commodity, have constituted the real standard pursuit of fortune to be at all affected by such of exchangeable value. When a country bank lost scruples. It is essential, therefore, that the issuers credit, the circulation of its notes was stopped, be- of paper money should be placed under some check cause a suspicion was entertained that it would be or control; and the comparative steadiness of the impossible to exchange them for paper of the Bank value of the precious metals, at once suggests that of England; or, in other words, for that species of no check can be so effectual as to subject the issuers paper which constituted the real medium of exchange. of paper money to the obligation of exchanging their But, it is impossible to imagine, that the paper con- notes, at the pleasure of the holder, for a given and stituting this medium should itself be affected by a unvarying quantity either of gold or silver. want of credit. Every individual knew that it had But it has been contended, that there is a material Proposition no intrinsic worth ; and, as we have already shown, difference between paper money issued by a govern-maintained its value was regulated, and must, whenever it is not ment in payment of the debts it has contracted, and 111086 who rendered exchangeable for a given quantity of some that which is issued by a private banking company ^ other commodity, continue to be exclusively regu- in discount of good bills. In regard to the former, can bede-^ lated, by the amount of it in circulation compared it is admitted, on all hands, that it may be issued in predated, with the demand. excess; but, in regard to the latter, it has been streIt appears, therefore, that if there was perfect se- nuously urged, that “ notes issued only in proporcurity, that the power of issuing paper money would tion to the demand, in exchange for good and connot be abused ; that is, if there was perfect security vertible securities, payable at specific periods, cannot for its being issued in such quantities, as to preserve occasion any excess in the circulation, or any depreits value relatively to the mass of circulating com- ciation.” As every one of the arguments advanced modities nearly equal, the precious metals might be by those who contend that the paper currency of Great entirely dispensed with, not only as a circulating Britain has not been depreciated since 1797 involve medium, but also as a standard to which to refer the this principle, it will be necessary to examine it a little minutelj'’. value of paper. In the first place, it may be observed, that the Demand for Difficult of Unfortunately, however, no such security can be Discounts limiting the given. This is a point, respecting which there can demand for discounts does not depend on the nature de supply of be no difference of opinion. We have it in our of the security required for the repayment of the Pend8 on a Bank Paper, power to appeal to a widely extended and uniform sums advanced by a bank, but on the rate of interest betweenThe course rate of Interthan*!)*86 ta experience—to the history of Great Bri- for which these sums can be obtained, compared dering it ex- m> and of every other state in Europe, and to that the ordinary rate of proft which may be made by their est and the r ate ofPro ' changeable of the United States—to show that no man, or set employment. If an individual can obtain L. 10,000,fit. for Gold or 0f men, have ever been invested with the power of L. 100,000, or any greater sum, from a banker, at 4, " SiWer. making unrestricted issues of paper money without 5, or 6 per cent., and if he can realise 7, 8, or 10 abusing it; or, which is the same thing, without per cent, by its employment as capital, it is evidently issuing it in inordinate quantities. If the power of his interest, and it would be the interest of every supplying the state with paper money be vested in a other person similarly situated, to borrow to an unprivate banking company, such as the Bank of Eng- limited extent. But a banking company, which was land ; then, to suppose that they should, by limiting relieved of all obligation to pay its notes in cash, their issues, endeavour constantly to sustain the va- and which, of course, was not obliged to keep any lue of their paper, would be to suppose that they unproductive stock or bullion in its coffers, would should be extremely attentive to the public interest, be able to issue its notes at the lowest possible rate and extremely inattentive to their own private in- of interest; and the demand for its paper would, terest ! The re-enactment of the restriction act, and therefore, be proportionably great. “ The interest of money,” says Mr Ricardo, on therewhich is a great of opinion. Mr Locke, Mr Harris, and Mr Ricardo, are decidedly of opinion that silver is much better fitted than gold for a standard; while Dr Smith, although he has not expressed himself explicitly on the subject, appears to think that gold ought to be adopted in preference ; and this opinion has been very ably supported by the late Lord Liverpool, in his valuable work On the Coins of the Realm. It would be presumption in us to attempt to decide on a matter of this kind, respecting which the ablest political economists differ thus widely. We are inclined, however, to concur in opinion with those VOL. V. PART II.

E Y.

who think silver ought to be adopted as the stand- Money, ard. W hatever metal is set apart for this purpose, ^ it will be a very difficult task to preserve the currency from falling into a deranged state, if it be not used in small as well as in large payments. “ The integer," says Mr Harris, “ and its several parts, should bear an exact and due proportion of value to each other; and this would be impossible, if they were made of different materials. There must be coins of about the value of shillings and sixpences; and it would be better if we had some that were still smaller. Those sort of coins are the most frequently wanted, and there is no doing without them. But a coin of a shilling, or even of half a crown value, would be too small in gold; and, therefore, at present gold is much too valuable for a standard of money. And it would be a ridiculous and vain attempt to make a standard integer of gold whose parts should be of silver; or to make a motley standard, part gold and part silver.”—(Harris On Coins, Part I. p. 60.) Silver is, besides, as steady in its value as gold. Almost all foreign countries have adopted it as their standard ; and the demand and supply is comparatively regular. The use of paper, as the principal circulating medium, entirely removes the great objection against silver—its being too bulky to be advantageously used in large payments. Whether gold or silver be adopted as the standard A Gold and of our currency, will not affect its total cost or value;Silver Cur“ for, the quantity of metal employed as money, or the quantity of metal for which paper is the substitute, J ' Ud must always be in an inverse proportion to the value or cost of that metal. If gold be continued as the standard, fourteen or fifteen times less of that metal than of silver will be required ; or, what is the same thing, if the denomination of a pound were given to any specific 'weight of gold or silver, fifteen times more of such silver pounds would be required to serve as currency, or as bullion to exchange for notes—fifteen to one being about the proportion which gold bears in value to silver; and hence the expence of a currency consisting of gold coins, or of silver coins, is the same; and the expence is also the same, whether the currency consists of paper convertible into gold bullion or silver bullion. But, as gold is too valuable, in proportion to its bulk, to be coined into pieces of the value of a shilling or a sixpence, and as it is desirable to have the subsidiary currency necessary in small payments, formed of the same metal as the principal currency, or as the bullion for which paper is made exchangeable, silver ought, in preference, to be adopted as the standard. If Mr Ricardo’s plan should be again adopted, and if it should be deemed inexpedient to change the standard, it would not be proper to make any alteration on the late act, allowing a seignorage of 6 per cent, on the silver coin; for, without some very great change in the present comparative value of gold and silver, the imposition of this seignorage will prevent all risk of the fusion or exportation of the subsidiary currency. Neither, on the supposition that silver w'ere to be assumed as the standard, could there be any valid objection against continuing the seignorage. For, as notes would be exchangeable for bul3 u

MON E Y. who in that year first introduced a new standard of Money, lion, and not for coin, it would not cause any reduc- gold of 22 carats fine, and 2 carats alloy. The first tion of the standard, while it would have the beneh- of these standards was called the old standard ; the dal effect of preventing the too great multiplication second was called the new standard, or crown gold, of the subsidiary currency, and of relieving the coun- because crowns, or pieces of the value of five shiltry of the expences of coinage. lings, were first coined of this new standard. Henry Were a seignorage charged on the gold coins, pa- VIII. made his gold coins of both these standards per it is obvious, might be depreciated to the full under different denominations; and this practice extent of that seignorage, before it would be the in- was continued by his successors until 1633. From terest of the holders to demand coin for the purpose that period to the present, the gold of which the of melting it into bullion, and consequently before coins of this kingdom have been made has been inthe check of specie payments could begin to operate. variably of the new standard, or crown gold; though But, even with such a seignorage, the risk of PaP^r some of the coins made of the old standard previbeing depreciated, might be completely avoided, by ously to 1633 continued to circulate till 1732, when making it obligatory on the bank to pay their notes, they were forbidden to be any longer current. (Lieither in bullion, at the mint price of L.3,17s. 10^d. verpool On Coins, p. 27.) an ounce, or coin, at the pleasure of the holder. A The standard of our present gold coins is, there- Weight of regulation of this kind could not be justly considered fore, 11 parts of fine gold, and 1 part of alloy. The English as imposing any hardship on the bank ; for it is plain, pound Troy of such standard gold is divided into 44^ U)ins' that no bullion would ever be demanded from it, ex- guineas, each of which ought, consequently, when cept when, by the issue of too much paper, its value had been sunk below the standard. fresh from the mint, to weigh ——j 442 of 12 ounces, or 5 dwts. 9|f grains. The sovereign, or twenty shilling Sect. \l.—Standard of Money.—Degradation of the piece, weighs 5 dwts. 3£££ grains of standard gold, Standard in Italy, France, Great Britain, and other or 4 dwts. l7 1 8i5 grams of pure gold. TI g Countries.—Pernicious Effects of this DegradaThe alloy in coins is reckoned of no value. It tion. is allowed, in order to save the trouble and expence Standard of By the standard of money is meant the degree of that would be incurred in refining the metals, so Money. the purity or fineness of the metal contained in the as to bring them to the highest degree of purity; coins of a particular country, and the quantity or and because, when its quantity is small, it has a tenweight of such metal contained in these coins. dency to render the coins harder, and less liable to Twelve ounces of the metal, of which standard Eng- be worn or rubbed. If the quantity of alloy were lish silver coins are made, contains 11 ounces 2 dwts. considerable, it would lessen the splendour and the fine, and 18 dwts. alloy; and of a pound Troy of this ductility of the precious metals, and would add too standard silver, our money pound, called the pound much to the weight of the coins. Having thus ascertained what the standard of moSterling, contains 66 shillings, or parts of of ney really is, we shall now proceed to examine the a pound Troy of fine silver, that is, 16l4-®|j- grains. From the 43d of Elizabeth down to 1816, when the effects produced by variations in the standard. This act 56th Geo. III. cap. 68, imposing a seignorage of is, both in a practical and historical point of view, a about 6 per cent, on the silver coin, was passed, the very important inquiry. To make any direct alteration in the terms of the Variations pound weight of standard silver bullion had been coined into 62 shillings. All the English silver coins contracts entered into between individuals, wouldanbeo^^”/ have been coined out of silver of 11 oz. 2 dwts. fine, a degree of barefaced oppression, and of wanton d rai Roarks, from the Conquest to this moment, except for a short tyrannical interference with the rights of property, period of sixteen years, from 34th Henry VIII. to that could not be tolerated. Those, therefore, who have hitherto endeavoured to enrich one part of sothe 2d Elizabeth. Purity of The purity of gold is not estimated in Great Bri- ciety, at the expence of another, have found it neF.nglish tain, and in most other European countries, by the cessary to act with greater caution and reserve. Coins. vveights commonly in use, but by an Abyssinian They have been obliged to substitute artifice for weight, called a carat. * The carats are subdivided open and avowed injustice. Instead of directly into four parts, called grains, and. these again into altering the stipulations in contracts, they have quarters; so that a carat grain, with respect to the ingeniously bethought themselves of altering the common divisions of a pound Troy, is equivalent to standard, by a reference to which these stipulapenny-weights. Gold of the highest degree of tions had been adjusted ! They have not said, fineness, or pure, is said to be 24 carats fine. When in so many words, that 10 or 20 per cent, should gold coins were first made at the English mint, the be added to or deducted from the mutual debts and standard of the gold put in them was of 23 carats obligations of society, but they have really effected 3^ grains fine, and ^ grain of alloy ; and so it conti- the same thing, by making a proportional change in nued, without any variation, to the 18th Henry VIII., the value of the currency. Men, in their bargains,

* The carat is a bean, the fruit of an Abyssinian tree, called Kuara. T.his bean, from the time °f being gathered, varies very little ih its weight, and seems to have been, in the earliest ages, a weight for gold in Africa. In India it is used as a weight for diamonds, &c. Bruce’s 2 ravels, Vol. V. p. 66.

MONEY. 517 Money, do not, as we have already shown, stipulate for signs of a certain weight and fineness circulate under the Money, or measures of value, but for real equivalents. Money names of florins, livres, and pounds, and who saw ^ ^ is not merely the standard by a comparison with them continue to circulate as such, after both their which the relative value of commodities is ascertain- weight and the degree of their fineness had been ed at any given period; but it is also the equivalent lessened, began to think that they derived their vaby the delivery of a fixed amount of which, the sti- lue more from the stamp affixed to them, by authopulations in almost all contracts and engagements rity of government, than from the quantity of the may be discharged. It is plain, therefore, that no precious metals they contained. This was long a variation can take place in its value, without essen- very prevalent opinion. But the rise of prices which tially affecting all these stipulations. Every addition invariably followed every reduction of the standard, to the value of money must make a corresponding and the derangement that was thereby occasioned addition to the debts of the state, and of every indi- in every pecuniary transaction, undeceived the pubvidual ; and every diminution of its value must make lic, and taught them, though it has not yet taught a corresponding diminution of these debts. Supppse their rulers, the expediency of preserving the standthat, owing to an increased difficulty of production, ard of money inviolate. Before proceeding to notice the changes made in Manner of or to the increase of the quantity of bullion containgin8ffie ed in coins of the same denomination, the value of the currency of this and other countries, it may be clian tandar * money is raised 20 per cent., it is plain that 20 per proper to observe, that the standard is generally cent, is, in consequence, added to all the various debased in one or other of the undermentioned ways. Isf, By simply altering the denominations of the sums in which one part of society is indebted to the other part. Though the nominal rent of the farmer, coins, without making any alteration in their weight for example, is not increased by this means, his real or purity. Thus, suppose sixpence, or as much silrent is increased: He continues to pay the same ver as there is in sixpence, should be called a shilnumber of pounds or livres as formerly ; but the ling, then a shilling would be two shillings, and pound or the livre is become more valuable, and re- twenty of these shillings, or ten of our present shilquires the sacrifice of one fifth part more of corn, of lings, would constitute a pound sterling. This would labour, or of any other commodity whose value has be a reduction of 50 per cent, in the standard. 2c?, The standard may be reduced, by continuremained stationary, to obtain them. On the other hand, had the value of money fallen 20 per cent., the ing to issue coins of the same weight, but makadvantage, it is plain, would have been all on the ing them baser, or with less pure metal and more side of the farmer, who would have been entitled to alloy. 3c?, It may be reduced, by making the coins of claim a discharge from his landlord, when he had paid him only four fifths of the rent he had really the same degree of purity, but of diminished weight, or with less pure metal: or it may be reduced partbargained for. But, notwithstanding it is thus obviously necessary, ly by one of these methods, and partly by another. The first of these methods of degrading the standin order to prevent the pernicious subversion of private fortunes, and the falsifying of all precedent con- ard was recommended by Mr Lowndes in 1695, and tracts, that the standard of money, when once fixed, if injustice is to be done, it is certainly, on the should be religiously kept sacred, there is nothing whole, the least mischievous mode by which it can that has been so frequently changed. We do not be perpetrated. It saves all the trouble and exhere allude to those variations which affect the value pence of a recoinage ; but as it renders the fraud of the material of which the standard itself is com- too obvious, it has been but seldom resorted to. In posed, and against which it is impossible to guard, inquiries of this kind, however, it is rarely necessabut to the changes which have been made in the ry to investigate the manner in which the standquantity of that material contained in the same no- ard has been degraded. And by its reduction or minal sum of money. In almost every country, debt- degradation, voe uniformly mean, unless when the ors have been enriched at the expence of their cre- contrary is distinctly expressed, a diminution of the ditors. The necessities, or the extravagance of go- quantity of pure metal contained in coins of the vernments, have forced them to borrow ; and to re- same denomination, without regard to the particular lieve themselves of the incumbrances they had con- mode in which such diminution may have been eftracted, they have almost universally had recourse to fected. In conformity with what we have observed in the the disgraceful expedient of degrading the coin ; that is, of cheating those who had lent them money first section of this article, relative to the universalito the extent of the degradation, and of enabling ty of the ancient practice of weighing the precious every other debtor in their dominions to do the same. metals in every exchange, it is found that the coins of The ignorance of the public in remote ages facili- almost every country have the same names as the tated this species of fraud. Had the names of the weights commonly used in them. To these weights coins been changed when the quantity of metal con- the coins at first exactly corresponded. Thus the tained in them was diminished, there would have talent was a weight used in the earliest periods by the been no room for misapprehension. But, although Greeks, the as or pondo by the Romans, the livre the weight of the coins was undergoing perpetual, by the French, and the pound by the English and and their purity occasional reductions, their ancient the Scotch, &c.; and the coins originally in use in denominations were almost uniformly preserved; and Greece, Italy, France, and England, received the the people who saw the same names still remaining same denominations, and weighed precisely a talent, after the substance was diminished,—who saw coins a pondo, a livre, and a pound. The standard has not, 1

MONEY. 518 Money. however, been preserved inviolate, either in ancient as was reduced to half an ounce, or to of its an- Money, or modern times. But the limits within which an cient weight, at which it continued till Pliny’s time article of this kind must be confined, prevents us and long after, f The denarius, the principal silver coin in use among Proportion from tracing the various changes in the money of of silver t0 this and other countries, with the minuteness which the Romans, for a period of 600 years, was coined five Co > €^ the importance of the subject deserves, and obliges years before the first Punic war, and was, as its name ^ P • imports, rated in the mint valuation at 10 asses. Mr us to notice only those that were most prominent. * Roman Monev.—We learn from Pliny, that the Greaves, whose dissertation on the denarius has been History of the Money first Roman coinage took place in the reign of Ser- deservedly eulogised by Gibbon (Decline and Fall, of Rome. vius Tullus, that is, according to the common chro- Vol. III. p. 89), shows that the denarius weighed at nology, about 550 years before Christ. The as or first only one-seventh of a Roman ounce, ^ which, if pondo, of this early period, contained a Roman pound Pliny’s account of the period when the weight of the of copper, the metal then exclusively used in the as was first reduced was correct, would give the Roman coinage, and was divided into twelve parts or value of silver to copper in the Roman mint as 840 uncice. If we may rely on Pliny, this simple and na- to 1, which Mr Greaves very truly calls a “ most tural system was maintained until 250 years before unadvised proportion.’’ But if we suppose, with Mr our era, or until the first Punic war, when the re- Pinkerton (Essay on Medals, Vol. I. p. 132, edit. venues of the state being insufficient, the govern- 1789), that when the denarius was first issued, the ment attempted to supply the deficiency, by reduc- as only weighed 3 ounces, the proportion of silver to Weight of ing the weight of the as from 12 to 2 ounces ! But copper would be as 252 to 1;—a proportion which, the As. it is extremely improbable, that a government, which when the as was soon after reduced to 2 ounces, had maintained its standard inviolate for 300 years, would be as 168 to 1, or about a third more than in should have commenced the work of degradation, the British mint. When, in the second Punic war, by at once reducing their standard to a sixth part the as was reduced from 2 ounces to 1, the denarius of its former amount; and it is equally impro- was rated at 16 ases. During his stay in Italy, Mr Greaves weighed Value of the bable that so sudden and excessive a reduction could have been made in the value of the current many of the consular denarii, that is, as he explains Denarius, money of the state, and, consequently, in the debts himself, of the denarii that were struck after the due by one individual to another, without occasion- second Punic war, and previously to the government ing the most violent commotions. Nothing, however, of the Caesars, and he found, by frequent and exact is said in any ancient writer, to entitle us to infer trials, the best and most perfect of them to weigh 62 that such commotions actually took place, and we, grains English Troy weight. (Greaves’ Works, Vol. I. therefore, concur with those who think that the p. 262.) Now, as the English shilling (new coinage) weight of the as had been previously reduced, and contains very nearly 87^ grains standard silver, this that its diminution, which, it is most probable, would be would give 8|d. for the value of the consular denagradual and progressive, had merely been carried to rius. We should, however, fall into the grossest the extent mentioned by Pliny during the first Punic mistakes, if we indiscriminately converted the sums war. In the second Punic war, or 215 years before mentioned in the Latin authors by this or any other Christ, a further degradation took place, and the fixed proportion. It is not enough to enable us to weight of the as was reduced from tvoo ounces to one judge of the real value of a coin, that we know its ounce. And by the Papyrian law, supposed to have weight; we must also know the degree of its purity, passed when Papyrius Turdus was Tribune of the or the fineness of the metal of which it is made. But people, or 175 years before Christ, the weight of the Mr Greaves did not assay any of the denarii weighed

* It is impossible for us to enter in this place into any discussion relative to the value of the Grecian money. It is, however, a subject of no little interest and curiosity. M. Rome de ITsle, in his Trade de Metrologie, published in 1789, has given an account of the weight, and of the degree of fineness of an immense number of attic drachmas and teiradrachmas. But he does not seem to have been more fortunate than his predecessors, in deducing the value of the talent from the weight of the drachmas. The errors and absurdities into wffiich modern critics and commentators have fallen, in estimating the value of the sums mentioned in ancient authors, is indeed astonishing. They are ably pointed out in a short essay, Dela Monnoie des Peuples Anciens, in the supplemental volume added by Gamier to his translation of the Wealth oj Nations. -j- “ Servius rex primus signavit aes. Antea rudi usos Romae Remeus tradit. Signatum est nota pecudum unde et pecunia appellata. * Argentum signatum est anno urbis DLXXXV. Q. Fabio Cos. quinque annos ante primum bellum Punicum. Et placuit denarius pro X. libris aeris, quinarius pro quinque, sestertium pro dipondio ac semisse. Librae autem pondus aeris imminutum bello Punico primo cum impensis resp. non sufficeret, constitutumque ut asses sextentario pondere ferirentur. Ita quinque partes factae lucri, dissolutumque aes alienum. * * Postea, Annibale urgente, Q. F'abio Maximo Dictatore, asses unciales facti: placuitque denarium XVI. assibus permutari, quinarium octonis, sestertium quaternis. Ita resp. dimidium lucrata est. Mox lege Papyria semunciales asses facti.”—(Plinii, Hist. Nat. Lib. 33, cap. 3. Ed. Lugd. Bat. 1669-) J This is indeed decisively proved by a passage in Celsus. u Sed et antea sciri volo in uncia pondus denariorum esse septem.” (Cels. Lib. 15, cap. 17.)

M O N E Y. 519 Money. by him. And although it were true, as most probably sions. The sestertius, or money unit of the Romans, Money, it is, that, from the first coinage of silver in the 485th was precisely the fourth part of a denarius. Nostri year of the city to the reign of Augustus, the weight autem, says Vitruvius, lib. 3. cap. \, primo decern feof the denarius had remained constant at ^th of a cerunt antiquum numerum, et in denario denos cereos Roman ounce, or about 62 grains; and that, from asses constituerunt, et ea re compositio nummi ad hothe reign of Augustus to that of Vespasian, it only diernum diem denarii, nomen retinet; etiamque quardeclined in weight from ^th to^th of an ounce ;* still tam ejus partem, quod efficiehatur ex duohus assihus When, it is abundantly certain that its real value had been et tertio semisse sestertium nominaverunt. reduced to a much greater extent. Of this fact the therefore, the denarius was worth 8|d., the sesterce authority of Pliny is decisive; for he expressly states, must have been worth 2^d. But the sestertius being that Livius Drusus, who was Tribune of the people in thus plainly a multiple of, and bearing a fixed and the 662d year of the city, or 177 years after the first determined proportion to the denarius, and consecoinage of silver, debased its purity, by allaying it quently to the as, the aureus, and the other coins with |4h part of copper. (Lib. 33, cap. 3, previously generally in use, it must have partaken of all their quoted.) And in a subsequent chapter (the 9th) of fluctuations. When they were reduced, the sestertius the same book, he informs us that Anthony the Tri- must have been reduced likewise ; for if it had not umvir mixed iron with the silver of the denarius; been so reduced, or, which in effect is the same and that, to counteract these abuses, a law was af- thing, if it had been necessary to increase the quanterwards made providing for the assay of the dena- tity of the degraded denarii and aurei contained in a rii. Some idea of the extent to which the debase- given sum of sestertii in proportion to their degrament of the purity of the coins had been carried, dation, nothing, it is obvious, could have been gainand of the disorder which had in consequence been ed by falsifying the standard. But as we know that occasioned, may be formed from the circumstance, on one occasion the republic got rid of one-half of also mentioned by Pliny, of statues being every where its debts—respublica dimidium lucrata est—by simerected in honour of Marius Gratidianus, by whom ply reducing the standard of the as, it is certain that the law for the assay had been proposed! But this the value of the sestertius must have fallen in the law was not long respected; and many imperial de- same proportion, just as in England we should renarii are now in existence, consisting of mere plated duce the pound sterling, our money unit, by reduccopper. (Bazinghen, Dictionnaire de Monnoies, Tom. ing the shillings of which it is made up. f But, although it had not been possible to produce Errors of Dr II. p. 64.) Gold was first coined at Rome 62 years after sil- such clear and explicit testimony to show the conti- Arbuthnot Value of the Aureus. ver, in the 547th year of the city, and 204 years be- nued degradation of the Roman money, the obvious and others, fore Christ. The aureus originally weighed ^th part absurdity of many of the calculations which have of the pondo or Roman pound; but by successive been framed, on the supposition of its remaining reductions its weight was reduced, in the reign of stationary at the rates fixed in the earlier ages of the Constantine, to only 752d part of a pound. The pu- commonwealth, would have sufficiently established rity, however, as well as the weight of the aureus was the fact of its degradation. Dr Arbuthnot’s Tables diminished. Under Alexander Severus it was alloy- of Ancient Coins, which, for nearly a century, have ed with jth of silver. We learn from Dion Cassius, been considered in England, and in the greater part who was contemporary with Severus, that the aureus of the Continent, as of the highest authority, are was rated at 25 denarii; a proportion which Mr constructed on the hypothesis that the denarii weighPinkerton thinks was always maintained under the ed by Mr Greaves were of equal purity with English standard silver, and that no subsequent diminuEmperors. (Essay on Medals, Vol. I. p. 148.) The want of attention to this progressive degrada- tion had been made either in their weight or fineness ! Value of the Sester- tion has led the translators of, and commentators on, The conclusions derived from such data are precisely tius. ancient writers, to the most extraordinary conclu- of the same sort we should arrive at, if, in estimating

* Greaves, Vol. I. p. 331. Gibbon’s Miscellaneous Works, Vol. V. p. 71. + All the writers on ancient coins, with the single exception ot Mr Pinkerton, agree in supposing the sesertius to have been originally, and to have always continued to be, a silver coin. Mr Pinkerton has, however, lenied this opinion, and on the authority of the following passage of Pliny, contends that the sestertius was it the time when Pliny wrote, whatever it might have been before, a brass coin. “ Summagloria ceris nunc l„ Marianum conversa, quod et Cordubense dicitur. Hoc a Liviano cadmiam maxime sorbet, et onchalci bontatem imitatur in sestertiis, vupondiariisque, Cypno suo assibvs contentis. (Lib. 34, cap. 2.) I hat is, iiterallv. “ The greatest glory of brass is now due to the Marian, also called that ot Coidova. this, after •he Livian, absorbs the greatest quantity of lapis calaminaris, and imitates the goodness of orichalcum (yelW brass} in our sestertii and dupondiarii, the asses being contented with the Cyprian (brass). (Phny lad previously observed, that the Cyprian was the least valuable brass.) This passage is, we think, decisive in favour of Mr Pinkerton’s hypothesis. But, in the absence of positive testimony, the small value of the itZ might be relied on as a sufficient proof that it could not be silver. When the denanus wcghed 62 :»rains, the sestertius must have weighed 1S|, and been worth 21,d.; but a coin of so small a size as to be Scarcely equal to oncthird of one of our sixpences, would have been extreme y apt ^ been '“fj ’ an^ sould not have been struck by the rude methods used in the Roman mint with any thing approaching to sven tolerable precision. It is, therefore, much more reasonable to suppose that it was ot brass.

520 Money, ^

MONEY. the value of a French livre previously to the Revo- Vespasian, we believe, would have been very well Money, lutionj we took for granted that it weighed a pound of satisfied with a revenue of 20 millions; and there pure silver, as in the reign of Charlemagne. Among are good grounds for supposing that the Roman remany other things even more extraordinary, we learn venue, when at the highest, never amounted to so from Arbuthnot, that Julius Caesar, when he set out for large a sum. (Gibbon, Vol. I., p. 260.) Spain, after his prsetorship, was just L.2,018,229 SterFrench Money.—From about the year 800, in History of the Money ling worse than nothing,— that Augustus received, in the reign of Charlemagne, to the year 1103, in theFrance ‘ legacies from his friends, L.32,291,666,—that the reign of Philip I., the French livre, or money unit, estate of Pallas, a freedman of Crassus, was worth contained exactly a pound weight, or 12 ounces L.2,421,875, and, which is still better, that he re- (poids de marc) of pure silver. It was divided into ceived L. 121,093 as a reward for his virtues and twenty sols, each of which, of course, weighed ^th frugality,—that iEsop, the tragedian, had a dish of a pound. This ancient standard was first violatserved up at his table which cost L.4,843,—that Vi- ed by Philip I., who made a considerable diminution tellius spent L.7,265,625 in twelve months in eating of the quantity of pure silver contained in the sols. and drinking,—and that Vespasian, at his accession The example having been once set, it was so well to the empire, declared, that an annual revenue of followed up, that, in 1180, the livre was reduced to L. 322,916,666 would be necessary to keep the state less than one-fourth part of its original weight of machine in motion ! It is astonishing, that none of pure silver. In almost every succeeding reign there our scholars or commentators seem ever to have was a fresh diminution. “ La monnoye,” says Le been struck with the palpable extravagance of such Blanc, “ qui est la plus precieuse et la plus imporconclusions—conclusions which, to use the words of tante des mesures, a chang6 en France presque aussi Gamier, “ ont mis PHistoire Ancienne, sous le rap- souvent que nos habits ont change de mode !” And port des valeurs, au meme degr6 de vraisemblance to such an extent had the process of degradation (jue les contes de Mille et une Nuits !” They have, been carried, that, at the epoch of the Revolution, we believe, without any exception, slavishly co- the livre did not contain a seventy-eighth part ofD^ra^tiott pied the errors of Arbuthnot; and to this hour the silver contained in the livre of Charlemagne !ofthe Livre' the computations in the works on Roman antiqui- It would then have required 7885 livres really to exties used in our most celebrated schools and uni- tinguish a debt of 100 livres contracted in the ninth versities, are all borrowed from his work! It ought or tenth centuries; and an individual who, in that to be remembered, that the value of gold and silver remote period, had an annual income of 1000 livres, must, because of the greater poverty of the mines was as rich, in respect to money, as those who, at of the old world, and the comparatively small pro- the Revolution, enjoyed a revenue of 78,850 livres. gress made by the ancients in the art of mining, have (Paucton, Traite des Mesures, Poids, &c. p. 693.) been much greater in antiquity than at present. But, We subjoin an abridged table, calculated by M. without taking this circumstance into account, the Denis, exhibiting the average value of the French computations referred to are too grossly and obvi- livre in different periods, from the year 800 to the ously erroneous to deserve the smallest attention. Revolution : Reigns. From the 32d year of Charlemagne to the 43d year of Philip L, or from Part of the reign of Philip I., Louis VI., and VII. — Philip II. and Louis VIII. — Louis IX. and Philip IV. — Louis X. and Philip V. — Charles IV. and Philip VI. — John, _ Charles V. _ — Charles VI. _ Charles VII. _ Louis XI. . . Charles VIII. _ Louis XII. Francis I. Henry II. and Francis II. Charles IX. _ Henry III. _ _ Henry IV. _ . Louis XIII. . . __ Louis XIV. _ Louis XV. Louis XV. and XVI.

Years.

800 to 1103, 1103 — 1180, 1180 — 1226, 1226 — 1314, 1314 — 1322, 1322 — 1350, 1350 — 1364, 1364 — 1380, 1380 — 1422, 1422 — 1461, 1461 — 1483, 1483 — 1498, J498 — 1515, 1515 — 1547, 1547 — 1560, 1560 — 1574, 1574 — 1589, 1589 — 1610, 1610 — 1643, 1643 — 1715, 1715 — 1720, 1720 — 1789,

Value of the Livre in the Current Mo ney of 1789. Livte. 78 18 19 18 17 14 9

Sols. Den. 17 0 13 s 18 5 5 11 10 02 19 8 9 2 3 13 9 4 19 7 4 10 7 8 19 2 11 6 18 7 12 11 8 0 15 3 4 11 8 0 0 0

MONEY. Money. Those who wish for a full and detailed account of established in France by Charlemagne, had been in- Money, the various changes in the weight and purity of the troduced into England previously to the invasion of ^ — v French coins, may, besides the excellent work of Le William the Conqueror, and was continued, without Blanc, consult the elaborate and very complete tables any alteration, till the year 1300, in the 28th Edward I., at page Q05 of the Traite des Mesures of Paucton, when it was for the first time violated, and the value and at page 1.97 of the Essai sur les Monnoies of of the pound Sterling degraded to the extent of 1£9per cent. But, the really pernicious effect of this deDupre de St Maur. It was not to be expected, that degradations ori- gradation did not consist so much in the trifling exginating in the necessities, the ignorance, and the tent to which it was carried by Edward, as in the exrapacity of a long series of arbitrary princes, should ample which it afforded to his less scrupulous sucbe made according to any fixed principle. They cessors, by whom the standard was gradually debased, were sometimes the result of an increase in the de- until, in 1601, in the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 62s. nomination of the coins; but more frequently of a were coined out of a pound weight of silver. This was Degradation diminution of the purity of the metal of which they a reduction of above tivo-thirds in the standard; so of the Pound were struck. A degradation of this kind was not so that all the stipulations in contracts, entered into in Sterling, easily detected, and, in order to render its discovery the reigns immediately subsequent to the Conquest, still more difficult, Philip of Valois, John, and some might, in 1601, and since, be legally discharged by of the other kings, obliged the officers of the mint to the payment of less than one-third of the sums that swear to conceal the fraud, and to endeavour to make had been really bargained for. And yet the standthe merchants believe that the coins were of full va- ard has been much less degraded in England than in lue ! (Le Blanc, p. 212.) Sometimes one species any other country! The tables annexed to this article give an of money was reduced, without any alteration being made in the others. No sooner, however, had the ample account of these degradations, and also give people in their dealings manifested a preference, as the weight of the gold coins, and the proportional they uniformly did, for the money which had not value of gold to silver, estimated both by the mint been reduced, than its circulation was forbidden, or regulations, and by the quantity of fine gold and its value brought down to the same level with the fine silver contained in the different coins. Scottish Money.—In the same manner as the Of Scotland. rest. {Id. Introduction, p. 20.) In order to render English had derived their system of coinage from the the subject more obscure, and the better to conceal their incessant frauds, individuals were at one time French, the Scots derived theirs from the English. compelled to reckon exclusively by livres and sols, From 1296 to 1355* the coins of both divisions of at other times by crowns or ecus, and not unfre- the island were of the same size and purity. But, quently they were obliged to refer in computing to at the last mentioned period, it was attempted to fill coins which were neither livres, sols, nor crowns, up the void occasioned by the remittance of the ranbut some multiple or fractional part thereof. The som of David II. to England, by a degradation of injurious effects of these constant fluctuations in the the coins. Till this time, the money of Scotland value of money are forcibly depicted by the French had been current in England, upon the same footing historians. And so insupportable did they become, with the money of that country; and the preservathat, in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries, seve- tion of this equality is assigned by Edward III. as a ral cities and provinces were glad to purchase the reason for his degrading the English coins. But precarious and little respected privilege of having this equilibrium was soon after deranged. In the coins of a fixed standard, by submitting to the impo- first year of Robert III. (1390), the Scottish coin only passed for half its nominal value in England; sition of heavy taxes. (Le Blanc, p. 93.) In the duchy of Normandy, when it was governed and, in 1393, Richard II. ordered that its currency, by the English monarchs, there was a tax on hearths as money, should entirely cease, and that its value paid every three years, called monetagium, in return should be made to depend exclusively on the weight for which the sovereign engaged not to debase his of the genuine metal contained in it. “ To close coins. This tax was introduced into England by our this point at once,” says Mr Pinkerton, “ the Scotearly kings of the Norman race; but Henry I. in tish money, equal in value to the English till 1355, the first year of his reign, was induced to abandon it, sunk by degrees, reign after reign, owing to sucand it has not since been revived. (Liverpool On ceeding public calamities, and the consequent imCoins, p. 107.) u u poverishment of the kingdom, till, in 1600, it was on-’ r According to the present regulations of the french ly a twelfth part of the value of English money of the Mint, the coins contain y^ths of pure metal, and same denomination, and remained at that point till the -jigth of alloy. The franc, which is equal to 1 hvre, union of the kingdoms cancelled the Scottish coin0 sols, 3 deniers, weighs exactly 5 grammes, or age.”—{Essay on Medals, Vol. II. p. 99-) The tables at the end of this article exhibit the 77.2205 English Troy grains. The gold piece of 20 francs weighs 102.96 English grains. (Peuchet, successive degradations both of the Scottish silver and gold coins. Statistique Elementaire de la France, p. 538.) At the Union, in 1707, it was ordered that all the Of England- English Money.—*In England, at the epoch of silver coins current in Scotland, foreign as well as the Norman Conquest, the silver, or money pound, weighed exactly twelve ounces I ower weight. It domestic, except English coins of full weight, should was divided into twenty shillings, and each shilling be brought to the Bank of Scotland, to be carried into twelve pence, or sterlings. This system of coin- to the mint to be recoined. In compliance with this age, which is in every respect the same with that order, there was brought in,

*

MONEY. St of an English penny; it Money, “• no greater value than Of foreign silver money (Sterling), 132,080 17 9 is so small, that, in estimating its value in other coins, Milled Scottish coins, 96,856 13 0 it is reckoned by hundreds and thousands. The Coins struck by hammer, 142,180 0 0 moeda, or moidore, is equal to 4800 reis; and this English milled coin, 40,000 0 0 little coin has now, in fact, no existence but in name. Such has been the fate of all these coins, and such Total, L.411,117 10 9 is their present state of their depreciation.’’—(Liverpool on Coins, p. 111.) Russian Money.—The following, according to M. Of Russia. Mr Ruddiman conjectures, apparently with considerable probability, that the value of the Scottish Storch, are the fluctuations in the weight and value gold coins, and of the silver coins not brought in, of the rouble, or money unit of Russia, since 1700. amounted to about as much more. Much suspicion was entertained of the measure of a recoinage; and Value in that large proportion of the people who were hosWeight of Current Years. the Rouble. Roubles of tile to the Union, and who did not conceive it could 1821. be permanent, brought very little of their money to the bank. Only a few of the hoarded coins have Zolot. Dolls. Rou. Cop. been preserved, the far greater part having either 1700 11 40 2 70| been melted by the goldsmiths, or exported to other From 1700 to 1718, 67 35 countries. (Preface to Anderson’s Diplomata, p. — 1718 —1731, 83 15| 176.) — 1731 —1762, 16 22^ Of Ireland. Irish Money.—The gold and silver coins of — 1762—1821, 21 0 Great Britain and Ireland are now the same, and have been so for a considerable period. The rate, The principle of degradation has not, however, Raising of however, at which these coins circulate in Ireland, the Value of or their nominal value as money of account, is 8^ been uniformly acted upon. The quantity of bulliontlle 11, per cent, higher than in Great Britain. This differ- contained in coins of the same denomination has ^i sometimes, though rarely, been increased, and credience of valuation, which is attended with considerable inconvenience in adjusting the money transac- tors enriched at the expence of their debtors. This tions between the two countries, has subsisted since method of swindling his subjects is said to have been 1689* For an account of the various species of me - first practised by Heliogabalus. The Roman citizens tallic money which have at different times been cur- being bound to pay into the imperial treasury, not a rent in Ireland, we must refer our readers to Mr certain weight of gold, but a certain number of pieces Simons’ Essay on Irish Coins. *—a work pronounc- of gold, or aurei, the Emperor, whose vices have beed by Mr Ruding to be “ the most valuable of all come proverbial, in order to increase his means of the publications on the coinage of any part of the dissipation, without appearing to add to the weight united empire.”—(Annals of the Coinage, Preface, of the taxes, increased the quantity of metal contained in the aureus ; and thus obtained, by a dishonest Vol. I. p. 11.) Of GerMoney of Germany, Spain, &c—A similar pro- trick, what it might have been difficult for him to many, &c. cess of degradation had been universally carried on. have obtained by a fair and open proceeding. + In “ In many parts of Germany, the florin, which is still France, the value of the coins has been frequently the integer, or money of account of those countries, raised. During the early part of the reign of Philip was originally a gold coin, of the value of about 10s. le Bel, who ascended the throne in 1285, the value of our present money (old coinage). It is now be- of the coin had been reduced to such an extent as to come a silver coin, of the value of only 20d.; and occasion the most violent complaints on the part of its present value, therefore, is only equal to a sixth the clergy and landholders, and generally of all that part of what it was formerly. In Spain, the mara- portion of the subjects who could not raise their invedi, which was in its origin a Moorish coin, and is comes proportionably to the reduction in the value still the money of account of that kingdom, was in of money. To appease this discontent, and in comancient times most frequently made of gold. Le pliance with an injunction of the Popes, the king at Blanc observes, that, in 1220, the maravedi weighed last consented to issue new coins, of the same deno84 grains of gold, equal in value to about 14s. (old mination with those previously current, but which coinage) of our present money. But this maravedi, contained about three times the quantity of silver. though its value is not quite the same in all the dif- This, however, was merely shifting an oppressive ferent provinces of Spain, is now become a small burden from the shoulders of one class to those of copper coin, equal in general to only of an Eng- another, who were less able to bear it. The degraded lish penny ! In Portugal, the re, or reis, is become of money having been in circulation for about sixteen

5‘22 Money.

* Originally printed at Dublin in 1749, in 4to, and reprinted with some additions in 1810. f Lamp. Vita Alex. Severi, Cap. 39—Perhaps Heliogabalus took the hint from Licinius, a freedman of Caesar’s, who, in his government of the Gauls under Augustus, divided the year into fourteen months instead of twelve, because the Gauls paid* a certain monthly tribute !—Dion Cassius, Lib. 72. 4

MONEY. 523 Money, years, by far the largest proportion of the existing times the value of a large proportion of the same dc- Money, '***^/m**' contracts must have been adjusted exclusively with nomination that had been in circulation for some reference to its value. No wonder, therefore, that years before. those who were in the situation of debtors should It is clear to demonstration, however, that such a have declared their repugnance to submit to so rise in the value of money could not have taken place shameful an act of injustice as was done them by this without occasioning the most violent commotions, enhancement of the value of money, and that they had all the coins previously in circulation been deshould have refused to make good their engagements, based. Equal injustice, it must be remembered, is otherwise than in money of the value of that which always done to the poorest, and not least numerous had been current at the time when they were enter- class of society, by increasing the value of money, as ed into. The labouring class, to whom every sudden is done to the wealthier classes by depressing it. But, rise in the value of money is always injurious, having although government had been disposed to sanction joined the debtors in their opposition, they broke out so enormous an invasion of the right of property, it into open rebellion. “ The people,” says Le Blanc, is altogether impossible that the country could have “ being reduced to despair, and having no longer any submitted to have had 400 or 4r5Q per cent, added to thing to care for, lost the respect due to the edict of its taxes and other public burdens, by a piece of legerhis Majesty ;—they pillaged the house of the master demain of this kind, or that individuals wmuld have conof the mint, who was believed to have been the chief sented to pay so much more than they had originally adviser of the measure, besieged the temple, in which bargained for. Instead of deserving praise for accomthe King lodged, and did all that an infuriated popu- plishing such a measure, Edward VI., by whom the lace is capable of doing.” (Traite Historique des reformation of the coins was begun, and Elizabeth, Monnoyes de France, p. 190.) The sedition was ul- by whom it w'as completed, would have justly fortimately suppressed ; but it is not mentioned whether feited the esteem of their subjects, and merited the any abatement was made, by authority, from the deepest execration. The truth is, however, that alclaims of the creditors, in the contracts entered into most no change had been made, during all this pewhen the light money was in circulation. It seems riod, in the value of the gold coins; and there is, beprobable, however, from what is elsew'here mention- sides, abundance of evidence to show, that a large ed by Le Blanc (Introduction, p. 30), that such was supply of the old silver coins had remained in circureally the case. lation. Now, as there is no mention made of the isIncrease of The history of the French coinage affords several sue of the new coins having been attended with any the ' alue of instances similar to the very remarkable one we have inconvenience, it is nearly certain, as Mr Harris has no v >rou Coins m the In ' ^ g^t under the notice of our readers; but, remarked, that, during the period of the debasement Reign of " England, the new coinage in the last year of the of the standard, individuals had regulated their conEdward Vi. reign of’ Edward VI. is the only instance in which the tracts chiefly with reference to the gold or old silver value of money has been augmented by the direct in- coins ; or, which is the same thing, that “ they had terference of government. Previously to the acces- endeavoured, as well as they could, to keep by the sion of Henry VIII., the pound of standard silver standard, as it had been fixed in the preceding times." bullion, containing 11 oz. 2 dwts. of pure silver, and (Harris On Coins, Part II. p. 3.) 18 dwts. of alloy, was coined into thirty-seven shilWe have been thus particular in examining this lings and sixpence. But Henry not only increased measuie, because it has, of late, been much referred the number of shillings coined out of a pound weight to. It is plain, however, that it can give no support of silver, but also debased its purity. The degrada- to the arguments of those who have appealed to it as tion was increased under his son and successor, Ed- affording a striking proof of the benefits which they ward VI., in the fifth year of whose reign, seventy- affirm must always result from restoring a debased or two shillings were coined out of a pound weight of degraded currency to its original purity or weight. bullion ; but this bullion only contained three ounces Invariability of value is the great desideratum in a of pure silver to nine ounces of alloy ; so that, in fact, currency. To elevate the standard after it has been twenty of these shillings were only equal to 4s. 7fd. of for a considerable period depressed, is really not a our present money, including the seignorage. (Folkes’s measure of justice, but the giving a nexu direction Table of English Coins, p. 34.) It appears from the to injustice. It vitiates and falsifies the provisions in proclamations issued at the time, and from other au- one set of contracts, in order properly to adjust those thentic documents, that this excessive reduction of in some other set! This, however, as we have already remarked, is the value of silver money had been productive of the greatest confusion A maximum was set on the price the only instance in which the government of Engof corn and other necessaries; and letters were sent land has ever interfered directly to enhance the value to the gentlemen of the different counties, desiring of money. In every other case, where they have them to punish those who refused to carry their grain tampered wdth the standard, it has been to lower its to market. But it was soon found to be quite impos- value, or, which comes to the same thing, to reduce sible to remedy these disorders otherwise than by their own debts and those of their subjects. It is unnecessary to enumerate in detail the vari-Pernicious withdrawing the base money from circulation. This Effects a was accordingly resolved upon; and, in 1.552, new ous bad consequences that must have resulted from 1 cductionof these successive changes in the standard of value. ! coins were issued, the silver of which was restored to Stand ‘ the old standard of purity, and w'hich, though less But, it deserves to be remarked, that an arbitrary re-^a. duction of the standard does not afford any real relief* valuable than those in circulation during the early part of the reign of Henry VIII., were above/owr to the embarrassments of the governments by whom 3x vox., v. PART II.

MONEY. 524 Money, it is practised. Their debts are, it is true, reduced cedent contracts should be made good, not accord- Money, v ~ " in proportion to the reduction in the value of the cur- ing to the present value of money, but to its value rency, but their revenues are also reduced in the same at the time when they were entered into. This prinproportion. A degraded piece of money will not ciple, which is conformable to the just maxim of the exchange for the same quantity of commodities. Xo civil law—Valor monetce considerandus atque inspiwhatever extent the standard ot money may be re- ciendus est, a tempore contractus, non aulem a tempore duced, prices must, very soon, be raised to the same solutionis—was acted upon, to a certain extent, at extent. If the degradation be 10 per cent., the go- least, by the Kings of France, during the middle vernment, as well as every ofie else, will, henceforth, ages. Ordonnances of Philip le Bel, Philip of Vabe compelled to pay L.110 for those commodities lois, and Charles VI., issued subsequently to their which it might previously have obtained for L.100. having increased the value of money, or, as the To bring the same real value into the coffers of the French historians term it, returned from the foible treasury, it is necessary, therefore, that taxation to the forte monnoie, are still extant, in which it is should be increased whenever the standard is dimi- ordered, that all previous debts and contracts should nished a measure always odious, and in some coun- be settled by reference to the previous standard. But although the same reason existed, it does not tries impracticable. But a diminution of revenue is not the only bad appear that any such ordonnances were ever issued effect which governments experience from reducing when the value of money was degraded. It is obthe standard of the currency. A state which has vious, indeed, that no government could derive any degraded its money, and cheated its creditors, is un- advantage whatever from reducing the value of moable to borrow again on the same favourable terms as ney, if it were to order, as it is in justice bound to if it had acted with perfect good faith. We cannot do, that all existing contracts should be adjusted by expect to enjoy the reputation of honesty, at the the old standard. Such a measure would reduce the same time that we are openly pocketing the booty revenue without reducing the incumbrances of the earned by duplicity and treachery. I hose who lend state; while, by establishing a new standard of vamoney to knaves always stipulate for apropoition- lue, and unsettling all the notions of the public, it ably high rate of interest. They must not only ob- would open a door for the grossest abuses, and be tain as much as they could have obtained from the productive of infinite confusion and disorder in the most secure investments, but they must also obtain dealings of individuals. The odium and positive disadvantage attending an additional rate or premium, sufficient to covet the risk they run in transacting with those who have the degradation of the value ol metallic money, apgiven proofs of bad faith, and on whose promises no pears to have at length induced almost all governreliance can be placed. A degradation ot the stand- ments to abstain from it. But they have only reard of value is, therefore, ot all others, the most nounced one mode of playing at fast and loose with wretched resource of a bankrupt government. It the property of their subjects, to adopt another and will never, indeed, be resorted to, except by those a still more pernicious one. The injustice which who are alike unprincipled and ignorant. “ It occa- was formerly done by diminishing the quantity of sions,” says Dr Smith, “ a general and most pernicious bullion contained in the coins of different countries, subversion of the fortunes of private people; eni idl- is now perpetrated with greater ease, and to a still ing, in most cases, the idle and profuse debtor at the more ruinous extent, by the depreciation of their expence of the frugal and industrious creditor; and paper currency. * In the long period from 1601 to 1797, no change From iCOl transporting a great part ot the national capital from made in the standard of money in this country, to 1797, no the hands which were likely to increase and improve was A project for enfeebling the standard had indeed it, to those which are likely to dissipate and destroy been entertained, both m 1626 and 1695; but, m ard it. When it becomes necessary for a state to declare the former instance, it was quashed by the celebratitself bankrupt, in the same manner as when it becomes necessary for an individual to do so, a fair, ed speech addressed by Sir llobert Cotton to the open, and avowed bankruptcy, is always the mea- Lords of the Privy Council, and in the latter by the sure which is both least dishonourable to the deb- opposition of Mr Montague, then Chancellor of the tor, and least hurtful to the creditor. The honour Exchequer, in the House of Commons, and by the of a state is surely very poorly provided for, when, impression made by the writings of Mr Locke, by in order to cover the disgrace of a real bankrupt- whom the injustice of the scheme was admirably excy, it has recourse to a juggling trick of this kind, posed, out of doors. It was reserved for Mr Pitt to so easily seen through, and at the same time so ut- set aside a standard which had been thus preserved terly pernicious.”—(Wealth of Nations, Vol. III. inviolate for nearly two centuries. The Order in Council of the 25th February 1797, and the acts of p. 435.) Some of the bad consequences resulting from a Parliament by which it was followed up, eliected a change in the value of money might, indeed, be ob- total change in our ancient monetary system ; and, viated, by enacting, that the stipulations in all pre- instead of the old standard, gave us the self-interest-

.« In the sixth volume of the Court d‘Economic Politique of M. Storch, there is a very instructive ac. count of the paper money of the different continental states. We can confidently recommend it as contain, ing a great deal of new and important information. 4

M O N E Y. 525 Money, ed views and opinions of twenty-four irresponsible in- rectors to increase the number of their notes in cir- Money, dividuals. The circulation of Bank of England pa- culation. The consequence was, that, in 1812, they per was secured, by its being exclusively issued in were at an average discount of 20f ; in 1813, of 23; payment of the dividends, or of the interest of the and, in 1814, of 25 per cent. ! This was the maximum public debt, and by its also being received as cash of depreciation. The importation of foreign corn, in all payments into the exchequer ; but no attempt subsequent to the opening of the Dutch ports in was made to sustain the value of this paper on a par 1814, by occasioning a great decline of the price of with the value of gold or silver. Full power was given the principal article of agricultural produce, producto the directors of a private banking company to ed an unprecedented degree of distress, first among raise or depress the value of money, as their interest the farmers, and latterly among the country bankers. or caprice might suggest. They were enabled to ex- It is estimated that, in 1814,1815, and 1816, no fewer Bankruptcy change unlimited quantities of bits of engraved paper, than 240 private banking companies either became al- of theCounjln of the intrinsic worth, perhaps, of 5s. a quire, for as together bankrupt, or, at least, stopped payment; and many, or the value of as many, hundreds of thou- the reduction that was thus occasioned in the quan-ami fsie, sands of pounds. And, in such circumstances, our tity of bank-notes in circulation, raised their value cause of the only wonder is, not that paper money became de- so I'apidly, that, in October 1816, the discount was Rise in the preciated, but that its value was not more reduced— reduced to L.l, 8s. Id.per cent. In 1817 and 1818, g^kVapcr that a still greater quantity of bank-notes were not the average discount on bank paper, as compared with gold, did not exceed L.2, 13s. 2d. cent. In thrust into circulation. ros Effects of F°r first three or four years after the restric- the early part of 1819, it e to about 6 per cent.; the Restric- tion, the Directors, ignorant, perhaps, of the nature but it very soon declined; and, for the last two years, tion in 1797,0f the immense power which had been placed in their paper has been nearly on a level with gold. (See variauein0f hands, seem to have regulated their issues nearly on Table No. V. annexed to this article.) Nothing that has ever happened in the history of Bank Paper, the same principles that they had regulated them by, while they were obliged to pay in coin. It appears, the country has proved more injurious to its best inby the Tables of the Price of Bullion, published by terests than these fluctuations. From 1809 to 1815, order of the House of Commons, that, until 1801, the creditors of every antecedent contract, landbank-notes were on a par with gold. In 1801 and holders whose estates had been let on lease, stock1802, however, they were at a discount of from 8^ holders and annuitants of every description—all, in to 7^ per cent.; but they again recovered their va- short, who could not raise the nominal amount of lue; and, from 1803 to 1809, both inclusive, they their claims or of their incomes proportionably to were only at a discount of L.2, 13s. 2d. per cent. the fall in the real value of money, were robbed of a But, in 1809 and 1810, the Directors appear to have corresponding portion of them. The injustice that totally lost sight of every principle by which their is- would have been done to the creditors of the state sues had previously been governed. The average and of individuals, who had made their loans in gold amount of bank-notes in circulation, which had ne- or paper equivalent to gold, by raising the denomiver exceeded 17| millions, nor fallen short of l6| nation of the coin 25 per cent., however gross and millions in any one year from 1802 to 1808, both palpable, would not have been greater than was inclusive, was, in 1809, raised to L.l8,927,833 ; and, actually done them in 1814, by compelling them to in 1810, to L.22,541,523. The issues of country receive payment of their just debts in paper deprebank paper were increased in a still greater propor- ciated to that extent. Circumstances which could tion ; and, as there was no corresponding increase in neither be controlled by the Bank of England nor the the business of the country, the discount on bank- Government, put an end, as we have just seen, to notes rose from L.2, 13s. 2d. in 1809, to L.13, 9s. this monstrous system. But we are still suffering, per cent. in. 1810! The recommendation tore- and will long continue to suffer severely, for the turn to cash payments, contained in the Report of folly and injustice of which we have been guilty. the Bullion Committee, presented to the House of The mischief occasioned by the sudden reduction of Commons in 1810, appears to have given a slight the paper currency, and the consequent rapid augcheck to the issues of the Bank. All apprehensions mentation of its value, has been still greater than from this quarter were, however, speedily dissipated; what had previously been caused by its depreciation. for, in May 1811, when guineas were notoriously The hardship occasioned by the subversion of private bought at a premium, and bank-notes were at an fortunes, and by the change in the debts and credits open discount, as compared with gold bullion, of up- of individuals, might be, in both cases, nearly equal. Extraordi- wards of 10 per cent., the House of Commons not A vast amount of public debt was, however, connary Reso- only refused to fix any certain period for reverting tracted during those years in which the depreciation lution of thet0 payments, but actually voted a resolution, de- was greatest; and the state is now paying this debt, borrowed when the bank-note was not worth more Commons. claring that the promissory notes of the Bank of Eng- than 14s. or 15s., with bank-notes whose value is land had hitherto been, and were at that time, held to be, in public estimation, equivalent to the legal coin increased to 20s. The salaries, too, of all our public officers, and the expences of the army and of the realm ! This ever memorable resolution—•&. gr, L. 1 17 1 19 22 1 1 33 1 50 1 78 78 1 1 6 78 1 6 108 0 0 144 0 0 240 10 0 240 0 0 360 c 0 432 0 0 492

s. 12 4 10 6 0 15 15 15 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

pw. gr. 17 22 17 22 17 22 4 14 4 14 0 20 7 9

13 2

No. V. English Paper Money.—Account of the average Market Price of Bullion in every year, from 1800 to 1821 (taken from Papers laid before the House of Commons'), of the average Value per cent, of the Paper Currency, estimated from the Market Price of Gold for the same period, and of the average Depreciation of the Paper Currency. Average Price of Years. Gold per Ounce. L. s. 1800 3 17 1801 4 5 1802 1803 1804 1805 1806 1807 4 0 1808 4 0 1809 4 0 1810 4 10

d. 10^ 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

Average Average per Average De Price of cent, of the preciation Years. Gold per per cent. Value of the Ounce. Currency. L. 100 91 92 97 97 97 97 97 97 97 86

0 12 14 6 6 6 6 6 6 6 10

V. s. d. Nil. 1811 1812 8 7 1813 5 13 1814 10 13 1815 10 1816 13 10 13 10 1817 1818 13 10 13 10 819 1820 10 2 13 1821 6 13 9

x. d. 4 6 15 6 13 6 13 6 0 0 0 0 1 6 19 11 17 101

Average per Average De cent, of the preciation Value of the per cent. Currency, L. 92 79 77 74 83 83 97 97 95 97 100

s. 3 5 2 17 5 5 6 6 11 8 0

d. L. s. d. 2 7 16 10 3 20 14 9 0 22 18 62 5 2 9 16 14 9 16 14 10 2 13 10 2 13 0 4 9 0 2 12 0 Nil.

MONEY

530 Tables.

No. VI. Gold Coins of different Countries.—A Table containing the Assays, Weights, and Values Tables. of the principal Gold Coins of all Countries, computed according to the Mint Price of Gold in England, and from Assays made both at London and Paris, which have been found to verify each other. * The Publishers of this Work have purchased, at a very considerable expence, the right to publish this Table from the Proprietors (f the Second Edition of Dr Kelly's Cambist, where it originally appeared. Assay.

Souverain ..... Double Ducat ..... Ducat Kremnitz, or Hungarian r Carolin . ' . Bavaria Max d’or, or Maximilian . Ducat . . ... Ducat (double, &c. in proportion) Bern Pistole ..... Pistole (double in proportion) Brunswick Ducat ..... Ducat ..... Cologne Ducat current . . . . Denmark Ducat specie .... Christian d’or .... Guinea . . . . . England Half-Guinea .... Seven Shilling Piece Sovereign .... France . Double Louis (coined before 1786) Louis ..... Double Louis (coined since 1786) . Louis . .... Double Napoleon, or piece of 40 francs Napoleon, or piece of 20 francs New Louis (double, &c.) the same as the Napoleon . , . . Francfort on the Maine Ducat Pistole, old .... Geneva . Pistole, new .... Sequin .... Genoa Ducat (double in proportion; Hamburgh Hanover . . George d’or . . . . Ducat ..... Gold florin (double in proportion) Holland . Double ryder .... Ryder ... . . . Ducat ..... Malta Double Louis . . . . Louis ..... Demi Louis .... Austrian I Dominions/

Contents Weight. Standard in Pure Value in Weight. Gold. Sterling.

car. (fr. diet. gr. diet. gr. w. 0 0 3 14 3 13 B. 1 21 12 4 20 B. 1 3 5 2 10 W. 3 2 5 5 W. 3 4 14 B. 1 2i 51 2 19 B. 1 1 23 2 2 W. 0 1 21 4 19 W. 0 1 4 2li 4 19 B. 1 0 2 51 2 8 B. 1 2 5 2 9 W. 0 31 0 1 21 B. 1 2 5# 2 9 W. 0 1 7 4 5 Stand. 9 5 9 Stand. 16 2 16 Stand. 19 1 19 Stand. 3± 5 3 W. 0 2 10 11 10 5 W. 0 2 5 5 5 2 W. 0 1 20 9 15 W. 0 1 22 4 19 W. 0 If 7 8 3 W. 0 3 4 1 B. 1 2| W. 0 2 W. 0 Oi B. 1 3} B. 1 2; W. 0 11 B. 1 31 W. 3 0£ Stand. Stand. B. 1 2^ W. 1 W. 1 3 W. 1 Si-

5s 7i 15! 5! 5f 6g 2 21 9 AS 16 8 16

2 4 3 2 2 4 2 1 12 6 2 9 4 2

9 4 15 10 9 5 10 18 21 9 9 18 21 II

grains, 78, 6 106, 4 53, 3 115, 77, 52, 8 45, 9 105, 5 105, 7 9 51, 8 8 52, 6 19 42, 8 52, 16 93, 10 118, 15 59, 0 39, 113, 1 224, 9 112, 4 19212, 6 19 106, 0 179, 10 89, 7

s. 13 18 9 20 13 9 8 18 18 9 9 7 9 16 21 10 7 20 39 19 37 18 31 15

d. 10,92 9,97 5,91 4,23 7,44 4.12 1.48 7,86 8.48 2 3,70 5,62 3,70 6,14 0 6 0 0 9,64 10,71 7,53 9,75 8,36 10,5

14 52, 9 18 92, 5 80, 53, 4 14 52, 9 92, 6 53, 3 39, 283, 2 140, 2 52, 8 18 215, 3 16 108, 3 54, 5

9 16 14 9 9 16 9 6 50 24 9 38 19 9

4,34 4,45 1,9 5,41 4,35 4,66 5,19 10,83 1,46 9,75 4,13 1,25 1,37 7,75

* The London Assays in this Table have been made by Robert Bingley, Esq. F. R. S. the King’s Assay Master of the Mint, and those at Paris by Pierre Frederic Bonneville, Essayeur du Commerce, as published in his elaborate work on the coins of all nations. Specimens of all the foreign coins brought to London for commercial purposes have been supplied for this laole from the Bullion-Office, Bank of England, by order of the Bank Directors, and have been selected by John Humble, Esq., the chief of that office, who also examined the tables in their progress. It may likewise be added, that the Mint Reports of these commercial coins are chiefly from average assays; and that all the computations have been carefully verified by different calculators. (Note by Dr Kelly, to seJ cond edition of the Cambist, published in 1821.)

MONEY. Tables.

Milan

.

.

Naples

.

.

Netherlands Parma

.

Piedmont

.

Poland . Portugal

Prussia

Rome

.

.

Russia

. .

Sardinia Saxony

.

Sicily *

.

Spain

.

.

.

Sweden . Switzerland Treves . Turkey .

Sequin . . . . . Doppia or pistole 40 Lire piece of 1808 . Six ducat piece of 1783 . Two ducat piece, or sequin, of 1762 Three ducat piece, or oncetta, of 1818 . Gold lion, or 14 florin piece Ten florin piece (1820) . Quadruple pistole (double in proportion) Pistole or doppia of 1787 Ditto of 1796 Maria Theresa (1818) Pistole coined since 1785 Q, &c. in prop.) Sequin (J in proportion) Carlino, coined since 1785 (£, &c. in prop.) Piece of 20 francs, called Marengo Ducat .... Dobraon of 24,000 rees Dobra of 12,800 rees Moidore or lisbonnine (|, &c. in prop.) Piece of 16 testoons, or 1600 rees Old crusado of 400 rees New crusado of 480 rees Milree (coined for the African Colonies \ 1755) . . . Ducat of 1748 Ducat of 1787 Frederick (double) of 1769 Frederick (single) of 1778 Frederick (double) of 1800 Frederick (single) of 1800 Sequin (coined since 1760) Scudo of the Republic Ducat of 1796 Ducat of 1763 Gold ruble of 1756 Ditto of 1799 Gold poltin of 1777 Imperial of 1801 Half imperial of 1801 Ditto of 1818 Carlino (£ in proportion) Ducat of 1784 Ducat of 1797 Augustus of 1754 Augustus of 1784 Ounce of 1751 Double ounce of 1758 • . . Doubloon of 1772 (double and single ini proportion) . • J Quadruple pistole of 1801 Pistole of 1801 Coronilla, gold dol. or vintem of 1801 Ducat . • Pistole of the Helvetic Republic of 1800 Ducat • ... Sequin fonducli of Constantinople of 1773 Sequin fonducli of 1789 Half misseir (1818)

VOL. V. PART II.

• Much variation is found in the fineness of the Sicilian gold coins. 3 Y

531 Tables.

MONEY. Assay.

Sequin fonducli . * Yermeebeshlek Zecchino or sequin . . • Tuscany Ruspone of the kingdom of Etruria United States ‘Eagle (| and ^ in proportion) Zecchino or sequin (% and £ in proportion) Venice Carolin WlRTEMBERG Ducat Ducat (double and ^ ducat in proportion) Zurich Turkey

East India

EAST INDIES. Rupee, Bombay (1818) Rupee of Madras (1818) Pagoda, Star . . .

,

W. B. B. B. W. B. W. B. B.

Standard Contents Weight. Weight. in Pure Value in Sterling. Gold. 7 12 9 28 43 9 20 9 9

d. 6,26 5,30 5,83 5,93 6,66 5,83 1,47 2,22 3,71

164, 7 29 29 165, 41, 8 7

1,78 2,42 4,77

car. gr. dwt. gr izvt. gr. ml 2 3 2 5 22 7 42, 4 13 70, 0 3| 2 If 10 14 53, 1 3f 3 7 13 161, 1 3| 6 m 4 8 246, 0 0 11 6 10 10 53, i H 2 6 4 0 113, 3 2 6 3 8 12 51, 1 2 2 5 1 2 2 51 9 3 52,

B. 0 0| 7 11 Stand. 7 12 W. 3 0 2 4

7 11 7 12 1 21

3 6 1 6 7 9 6

No. VII. Silver Coins of different Countries—A Table containing the Assays, Weights, and Fc»lues of the principal Silver Coins of all Countries, computed at the rate of 5s. 2d. per Ounce Standard, from Assays made both at the London and Paris Mints. Assay.

Austria

Baden Bavaria Bern Bremen Brunswick

Denmark

England

Weight.

Standard Contents Value in Weight. in Pun Sterling. Silver.

oz. dwt. dwt. gr- drct. gr. mi. grains. Rixdollar of Francis II., 1800 . w. 5 18 1 16 0 4 355, 5 Rixdollar of the kingdom of Hungary 2 18 1 16 6 1 360, 9 vv. Half rixdollar or florin, Convention vv. 3 9 0^ 8 2 1 179, 6 Copftsuck, or 20 creutzer piece w. 3 4 6? 2 16 3 59, 4 8 4 0 2 9 18 53, 5 w. 17 Creutzer piece w. Halbe copf, or 10 creutzer piece 5 2 11 1 7 1 28, 8 Rixdollar . ... w. 4 18 2 16 3 1 358, 1 Rixdollar of 1800 (^ in proportion) w. 17 12 15 13 13 345, 6 Copftsuck . . . . vv. 3 4 6£ 2 16 3 9, 4 vv. Patagon or crown in proportion) 7 18 22 18 7 14 406, 7 Piece of 10 Batzen w. 2 5 3 4 14 17 102, 5 Piece of 48 Grotes w. 2 11 0 8 22 198, Rixdollar, Convention w. 359, 2 3 18 1 16 4 Half rixdollar w. 8 2 3 9 179, t Gulden, or piece of §, fine, of 1764 B. 0 16 8 10] 9 1 200, 8 Gulden, common, of 1764 vv. 1 2 9 8 2 1 180, Gulden, ditto, of 1795 vv. 2 2 11 II 8 23 199, 1 Half gulden, or piece of of 1764 w. 1 2 4 12 4 1 5 90, Ryksdaler, specie, of 1798 vv. 0 13 18 14 17 11 17 388, 4 New piece of 4 marks w. 0 12 12 9 11 16 14 259, 8 w. 0 13 9 7 8 17 Half ryksdaler 194, 2 Mark, specie, or ^ ryksdaler w. 3 1 4 0 2 21 12 64, 4 Rixdollar, specie, of Sleswig and Hoi-} stein (pieces of | and ^ in prop.) J W. 0 12 18 13 17 12 6 389, 4 Piece of 24 skillings 68, 9 W. 4 7 5 2 3 2 Crown (old) Stand. 19 8 19 8 429, 7 Half-crown , Stand. 214, 8 9 161 9 16 Shilling Stand. 85, 9 3 21 3 21 Stand. 22 Sixpence 42, 9 22 Crown (neiv) Stand. 4 44 403, 6 Half-crown Stand. 2 2 201, 8 Shilling 151 15 Stand. 80, 7 Sixpence Stand. 40, 3 19f 19

d. 1.64 2,39 1,07 8,29 7,47 4,01 2 0,25 8,29 8.79 2,31 3.64 2,15 1,07 4,03 1,13 3.80 0,56 6,23 0,27 3,11 7,59 4 6,37

This value of the American Eagle is taken from average assays of the coins of twelve years. 12

9,62 0 6 0 6 8,36 4,18 11,27 5,63

Table*.

MONEY. Tables. Assay.

France

.

Geneva

.

Genoa

.

Hamburgh

.

Hanover

.

Hesse Cassel

Holland

.

Lubec

.

•

Lucca

.

•

Malta

.

.

Milan

.

.

Modena Naples

. .

Netherlands

Ecu of 6 livres . . 4 Demi ecu .... Piece of 24? sous (divisions in proportion) Piece of 30 sous in proportion) Piece of 5 francs of the Convention Piece of 5 francs (Napoleon) of 1808 . Piece of 2 francs of 1808 Franc of 1809 Demi franc Franc (Louis) of 1818, same as franc of 1809 Patagon .... w. w. Piece of 15 sous of 1794? Scudo, of 8 lire, of 1796 (|, &c. in) proportion) . . J W. VV. Scudo of the Ligurian Republic W. Rixdollar, specie Double mark, or 32 schillings piece) W. (single in proportion) . J VV. Piece of 8 schillings VV. Piece of 4 schillings . • VV. Rixdollar, Constitution B. Florin, or piece of §, fine B. Half florin, or piece of ditto Quarter, or piece of 6 good groschen, do. B. VV. Florin, or piece of |, base VV. Rixdollar, Convention W. Florin, or piece off (k in proportion) 5 Vi! Thaler of 1789 . F ^ . W. VV. Ecu, Convention (1815) Bon Gros .... W. Ducatoon .... B. VV. Piece of 3 florins VV. Rixdollar (the assay varies) VV. Half rixdollar VV. Florin or guilder (| in proportion) VV. 12 Stiver piece W. Florin of Batavia Rixdollar, or 50 stiver piece of the king-) VV dom of Holland . • j w. Rixdollar, specie w. Double mark Mark .... w. Scudo .... w. Barbone .... w. w. Ounce of 30 tari of Emmanuel Pinto 2 Tari piece .... vv. w. Scudo of 6 lire (^ in proportion) w. Lira, new w. Lira, old vv. Scudo of the Cisalpine Republic w. Piece of 30 soldi of ditto Scudo of 15 lire, 1739 (double, &c. in pro.) w. Scudo of 5 lire, of 1782 • • w. w. Scudo of 1796 w. Ducat, new (£ in proportion) w. Piece of 12 Carlini of 1791 w. Ditto of 1796 w. Ditto of 1805 (| in proportion) w. Ditto of 10 Cariini (1818) Ducatoon, old • • • B.

Weight. diet, gr, 18 18 9 9 3 20 6 12 16 0 16 1 6 11 3 5 1 15

1 2 0 O 0 2 3 4 0 0 0 0 2 1 1 0 1 6 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0

diet. gr. mi. grams, 18 7 16 403, 1 9 1 18 201, 5 3 16 19 83, 4 4 12 100, 2 15 5 14 338, 3 15 12 4 344, 9 6 6 138, 8 3 3 69, 4 4 13 34, 7

9 15 19 351, 36, 1} 1 15 9 20 14 10 457, 4 9 20 11 g 454, 3 18 17 21 12 397, 5 18 9 118 210, 3 8| 2 6 50, 1 2 1 6 28, 3 400, 3 19 18 0 10 9 0 200, 3 4 4 11 99, 2 1 2 4 48, 6 01 8 23 199, 6 1 15 22 6353, 0 23 176, 8 259, 7 17 n 231 15 21 349, 3 4 0 11 10, 3 22 4 471, 6 446, 4 2 7 6 16 20 375, 9 185, 4 0 8 8 18 6 14 146, 8 92, 4 12 4 3 141, 6 13 6 9 17 0 16 13 18 367, 9 18 ..8 17 15 12391, 9 11 18 9 11 8210, 3 5 21 4 17 14 105, 1 17 0 16 18 10 372, 3 1 201 1 7 14 29, 3 19 1^ 5 4 14 337, 4 1 2 0 19 2 17, 7 14 2 Of 4 9 10 319, 6 4 0 2 9 0 52, 8 2 10 2 g 4 52, 9 14 21| 14 10 4 320, 2 4 17 3 11 8 77, 2 18 12| 17 8 9 385, 2 5 19 5 17 2 126, 8 18 If 2 22 12 287, 4 14 15 13 7 8 295, 4 17 15 16 0 18 356, 17 16f 15 22 12 353, 9 17 m 15 23 18 355, 2 14 18 7 0 295, 1 21 0 9 0 474, 6

0 17 6 2 8 21 92 21 10 18 3 U 12 3 6 2 9 18 16 8 16 4 16 2 1 11 6 18 6 9 10 12 6 17 14 1 3 20 2 20 16 18 16 9 42 6 16| 4 6

0 13 2 3 3 3 3 5 19 7 4 10 0 3 0 7 2 18 0 14 0 3 3 0 0 2 2 2 4

Standard Contents Weight. in Pure Value in Silver. Sterling. ». 4 2 0 1 3 4 1 0 0

d. 8,28 4,13 11,64 L99 11,24 0,16 7,38 9,69 4,84

1,03 5,04 5 3,87 5 3,43 4 7,49 2 5,36 6.99 3.95 7.89 3.96 1.85 6,78 3,87 1,39 0,68 0,26 0,77 1,43 5.85 2,33 4.99 1.89 8,49 0,90 7,77 4 3,37 6,72 5.36 2,67 3,98 4,09 11,11 2,47 8,62 7.37 7.38 8,71 10,78 5,78 5.70 4,13 5,24 1.71 1,41 1,60 5,20 6,27

533 Tables-

MONEY.

534 Tables.

Weight.

Assay.

W. Ducatoon of Maria Theresa Crown Q, &c. in proportion) W. W. 5 Stiver piece Florin of 17,90 W. Florin of 1816 W. Half florin (with divisions in proportion) W. W. Parma . . Ducat of 1784 Ducat of 1796 Q in proportion) VV. Piece of 3 lire W. VV. Piedmont . Scudo (1755) &c. in proportion Scudo (1770) | and ^ in proportion W. Piece of 2 lire (1714) W. VV. 5 Franc piece (1801) W. Poland . Rixdollar, old Rixdollar, new (1794) W. Florin, or gulden W. Portugal . New crusado (1690) VV. Ditto (1718) W. Ditto (1795) VV. Doze vintems, or piece of 240 rees (1799) W. Testoon (1799) .... VV. New crusado (1809) W. Seis vintems, or piece of 120 rees (1802) VV. Testoon (1802) W. Tres vintems, or piece of 60 rees (1802) VV. VV. Half testoon (1802j Portuguese f Piece of 8 macutes, of Portuguese Africa W. Colonies \ Ditto of 6 ditto .... VV. Ditto of 4 ditto . , VV. Prussia . *Rixdollar, Prussian currency (£ in prop.) VV. Rixdollar, Convention W. Florin, or piece of § W. Florin of Silesia VV. Drittel, or piece of 8 good groschen VV. VV. Piece of 6 groschen VV. Rome . . . Scudo, or crown (coined since 1753) W. Mezzo scudo, or half-crown W. Testone (1785) Paolo (1785) W W. Grosso, or half paolo (1785) Scudo of the Roman Republic (1799) VV. VV. Russia . . Ruble of Peter the Great W. Ditto of Catherine I. (1725) Ditto of Peter II. (1727) W. Ditto of Anne (1734) VV. VV. Ditto of Elizabeth (1750) Ditto of Peter III. (1762) VV. Ditto of Catherine II. (1780) W. Ditto of Paul (1799) W. Ditto of Alexander (1802) VV. Ditto of ditto (1805) VV. 20 Copeck piece (1767) W. Ditto (1784) W. 15 Copeck piece (1778) VV. 10 Copeck piece W. Ditto (1798) VV. Ditto (1802) VV. W. 5 Copeck piece (1801) Sardinia . Scudo, or crown (^ and i in proportion) W. Netherlands

oz. 0 0 6 0 0 4 0 0 1 0 0 0 0 1 2 4 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 1 2 2 3 2 0 0 0 0 0 0 2 2 2 1 1 2 2 0 0 0 2 2 2 2 0 0 0 0

Standard Contents Value in Weight. in Pure Sterling. Silver.

dwt. gr. dwL gr. mi. grams. 21 10 20 1 12 445, 5 19 0 17 19 4 395, 3 4 1 9 18 31, 5 23| 5 14 9 124, 6 22 6 16 6 148, 5 11 3 9 2 75, 16 11 15 18 18 350, 16 I2j 16 2 18 357, 4 14 4 2 2 90, 22 14 22 0 10 488, 5 22 14 22 1 16 490, 7 20j 7 16 13 170, 8 16 1* 15 11 12 343, 2 18 1 16 6 0 360, 8 17 15 10(2 11 11 6 254, 2 6 0 3 18 16‘84, 4 11 0 10 19 0 239, 9 8 9 1 0 200, 7 9 9 9 1 18 201, 7 4 16 4 12 10 100, 7 2 0 1 22 18 43, 4 9 3 8 23 0 198, 9 2 4i 2 2 8 46, 6 9 2 0 1 22 0 42, 9 1 2i 1 1 4 23, 9 0 23 0 22 0 20, 9 7 12 7 4 14 159, 9 5 13 5 7 12 118, 9 3 16 3 12 8 78, 5 14 6 11 9 0 252, 3 18 1 16 4 2 359, 3 11 2 8 22 8 198, 2 9 11 7 16 0 170, 3 5 8! 3 20 4 85, 8 3 14 2 19 6 62, 4 17 1 16 17 13 371, 4 8 I2i 8 8 16 185, 5 5 ' 2 4 23 110, 4 1 17 1 16 37, 5 0 20i 0 20 0 18, 6 17 1 16 13 18 368, 7 18 1 M. 1 8 312, 4J 17 11 13 23 0 309, 12 18 5 13 23 4 310, 11 16 14s 14 6 16 317, 7 16 12 14 11 16 321, 2 15 10 12 12 0 277, 4 15 12 12 10 6 275, 14 13 12 12 15 10 280, 13 13 1 17 7 2 273, 16 13 12 12 12 12 278, 2 3 10 2 19 0 62, 2 3 3 2 12 18 56, 2 2 6 1 19 18 40, 6 2 1 1 14 16 35, 14^ 1 9 l 6 16 28, 13 1 1 6 11 28, 13 0 16^ 0 15 10 15, 14 15 0 324, 7 15

14 14 3 14 7 5 9 5 4

The Prussian coins, having been debased at different periods, vary in their reports.

0 4

0 2

d. 2,20 7,18 4.37 5,35 8,72 10,46 0,95 1.97 0,66 8,26 8,42 11,85 11,99 2.38 11,51 11,72 9.40 3,95 4,15 2,01 6,06 4,67 6,50 5.93 3,25 2,84 10,31 4,47 10,90 11,27 2,13 3,70 11,78 11,91 8,69 3,87 1.93 3.40 5,19 2.58 3,40 7.58 7.27 7.28 8,29 8.93 2,75 2,52 3,21 2,12 2.83 8,74 7.84 5,65 5,11 3.97 3,95 2,13 9,34

Tables.

MONEY Tables. Assay.

Weight.

Standard Contents Weight. in Pure Silver.

OZ. diet. dwt. gr. rfa’L gr. mi grains. Rixdollar, Convention Q and i in prop.) W. 1 3 18 0 16 3 4 358, 2 Piece of 16 groschen of Leipsic W. 2 21 9 9? 7 14 16 169, 1 Rixdollar current of Saxe Gotha W. 4 4 18 1 11 4 2 248, 1 W. 4 11 3 11 2 0 19 45, 3 Ditto of 1808 W. 4 iH 3 5| 1 21 8 42, 1 43, 7 Ditto of Jerome Buonaparte of 1809 W. 5 4 3 17 1 23 348, 2 Sicily . . Scudo Q in proportion) VV. 1 4 17 14 15 16 Piece of 40 grains 117, 5 vv. 1 2 5 21 5 7 370, 9 Spain . . Dollar,* of late coinage vv. 0 8 17 8 16 17 185, 4 Half dollar, ditto vv. 0 8 8 16 8 8 92, 3 4 3 Mexican peceta (1774) w. 0 8 4 7} < ii Real of Mexican plate (1775) vv. 0 8 2 3 2 1 20 46, 1 Peceta provincial of 2 reals of new plate \ 3 18 3 6 0 72, 2 (1775) • . . J VV. 1 9\ Real of new plate (1795) 21 1 15 0 36, 1 VV. 1 9\ 20 17 19 10 395, 5 Sweden . Rixdollar (1762) VV. 0 12 Rixdollar of late coinage VV. 0 I4j 17 17 12 0 388, 5 Switzerland Ecu or rixdollar of Lucerne, £, &c. in ) VV. 0 14g 17 8 16 5 8 360, 1 proportion (1715) . . .3 14; 7 2 8 157, 5 Old gulden, or florin of Lucerne (1714) W. 1 19 0 IS 13 14 412, 3 Ecu of 40 batzen of Lucerne (1796) W. 0 5 20 8 20 12 196, 7 W. 1 2 Half ditto Florin, or piece of 40 schillings of Lu- W. 1 5 22 4 8 14 96, 8 cerne (1793) :} Ecu of 40 batzen of the Helvetic Re- ) W. 0 6 18 23 18 10 14 409, 5 public (1798) ^ in proportion / 23 18 8 12 407, 6 Ecu of 4 franken (1801) W. 0 7 95, 6 4 7 VV. 6 Turkey . Piastre of Selim of 1801 5 4 2 90, 9 VV. 6 13 Piastre of Grim Tartary (1778) 0 4 8 6 96, 5 VV. 6 51 Piastre of Tunis (1787) 6i 3 1 Piastre (1818) VV. 5 14 67, 7 Tuscany . Piece of 10 paoli of the kingdom of^_ VV. 0 4 17 13 17 5 18 382, 9 Etruria (1801) . J 385, 0 VV. 0 2 17 12 17 8 Scudo Pisa of ditto (1803) 578, 7 B. 0 7 25 6 26 1 Piece of 10 lire ditto (1803) 53, 4 Lira (1803) B. 0 7 2 8 2 0 373, 5 United States f Dollar (1795) &c. in proportion , VV. 0 6 17 8 16 19 VV. 0 7 17 101 16 21 6374, 9 Dollar (1798) 368, 3 VV. 0 10£ 17 10 16 14 Dollar (1802) 370, 1 VV. 0 83 17 8 16 16 Dollar, an average of 8 years W. 0 4 1 191 1 18 39, 5 Dime, or one-tenth dollar (179^) W. 0 7 0 21f 0 21 19, 5 Half dime (1796) 33, 4 1 12 W. 8 4i 5 Venice . Piece of 2 lire, or 24 creutzers (1800) Ditto of 2 lire, called moneta provin- W. 8 3 32, 8 131 1 11 ciale (1808) . . ... } 30, 5 VV. 8 4 Ditto of 2 lire (1802) | and £ in prop. (U 1 8 VV. 1 3 18 1 16 14 2359, 1 Rixdollar, specie WlUTEMBERO 2 16 12 59, 8 Copftsuck . • . " . VV. 4 2 4 EAST INDIES. East India . Rupee of Sicca, coined by the East In-) B. 0 13 n 2 7 22 0 175, 8 dia Company at Calcutta J 175, 0 0 Stand. Calcutta (1818) 164, 10 11 Bombay, new, or Surat (1818) VV. 0 0^ 11 32, VV. 0 11 Hi Fanam, Cananore 13 16 35, B. 0 13 Bombay, old nf 1 2 22, B. 0 5\ o| Pondicherry 18 VV. 0 3' 39, Ditto, double 184 Gulden of the Dutch East India Com148, 4 22 6 16 pany (1820) }

Value in. Sterling.

Saxony

0 10,08 0 4 4

5,04 7,22 6,28

4

2,28

1

9,99 9,57 3,46 1,51

4 9,18 4 1 1 1 0

9,18 1,36 0,69 1,47 9,45

4 5,46

0

5,76 8,80 7,45 4,15 4,35 3,42 3,68 5.71 2.72 4,66 4,58

0 4 0

4,25 2,14 8,35

2

0,54 0,56 11,01 4,5 4,88 3,18 5,44

1

8,72

* This is the coin which is universally circulated under the name of the Spanish dollar, t The American dollars, and inferior silver pieces of late coinage, vary in fineness from W. 4 dwt. to W. 9| dwt.

535 Tables.

536 Tables II Monmouthshire.

MONEY. No. VIII—Account of the Relative Value of Gold and Silver in the ’princ'vpal Trading Places of the World, Tables computedfrom the proportional Quantity of Pure Metal, in their principal Coins, and the legal or current II Price of those Coins respectively. {Given in hy Dr Kelly to the Committee of the House of Lords, ap- Monmouth. shire. pointed, 1819> to inquire into the Expediency of the Bank’s resuming Cash Payments.) By Mint Regulations. England, \ By Old Coinage J By New Coinage Amsterdam Hamburgh Paris Madrid Lisbon Leghorn Genoa Naples Venice Petersburgh... United States Bengal Madras Bombay China

By Assays.

Names of the Coins from which the Proportions are taken.

f Proved correct 4 Per Guinea and Old Shilling. < by the Trials of (the Pix. ) Per Sovereign and New Shilling. f Per 10 Guilder Piece decreed in 1816, and 15,8735 to 1 l Silver Florin of the same date, f Per Ducato reckoned at 6 Marks Banco and 15 to 1 nearly 14,83 to 1 \ Rixdollar. 15,5 to 1 Per 20 Franc Piece and 5 Franc Piece. 15,5 to 1 15,85) 16 to 1 Per Doubloon and Dollar of different Coinages to 1 { 16,46 j 13,56 to ] 13,33 to 1 Per Joannese and New Silver Crusado. 14,65 to 1 14,32 to 1 Per Ruspono and Francescone. 15,34 to 1 15,35 to 1 Per Genovina and Scudo. 15,21 to 1 Per Oncetta and Ducato. (Coinage of 1818.) 15 to 1 nearly 14,35 to 1 Per Sequin and Ducat. 15 to 1 nearly 15,25 to 1 Per Ducat and Ruble. 15 to 1 15,94 to 1 Per Eagle and Dollar. Per Gold Mohur and Sicca Rupee. 14,857 to 1 14,827 to 1 13,872 to 1 Per Star Pagoda and Current Rupee. 13,857 to 1 15 to 1 15 to 1 Per Gold Rupee and Silver Rupee, f Per Tale of Gold, and the Average Price of 14,25 to 1 j Spanish Dollars. 15,2096 to 1 14,2878 to 1

s. s. MONMOUTHSHIRE, a county of England, which, before the year 1535, was a portion of the principality of Wales. It is now no longer under the jurisdiction of the Welsh Judges, but it still is so far considered as not an English county, that the causes which are removed for trial from the principality to England are tried within it. The greater part of the inhabitants still speak one of the three dialects of the Welsh language; in some of the churches the worship is exclusively conducted in that tongue, in many it is celebrated in Welsh and English alternately, and only in the towns in English alone. Boundaries Monmouthshire is bounded on the north by Hereand Extent, fordshire, on the east by Gloucestershire, on the south by the river Severn, and on the west by the Welsh counties of Brecon and Glamorgan. Its greatest length is 33 miles, its greatest breadth 26, and its circumference 110 miles. The square extent is 516 miles, or 330,240 acres. Face^the • Tiie face the c°untr}'is highly diversified, exhiCountry. biting every gradation from lofty and bleak mountains, to highly verdant and beautiful sequestered vallies. Some of the mountains, as the Sugar-loaf, of 1850 feet, the Blorenge of 1720, and the Skyridvawr of 1498 feet, with some others, display their summits for many months covered with snow, whilst their sides, near the bottom, are cultivated with the different species of grain, and terminate in meadows of the most luxuriant fertility. Mr Fox, in his Agricultural Survey of this county, divides it into three

districts. The first, comprising the southern division, consists in part of large tracts of moor or marsh land, exhibiting in some parts of it a great depth of unctuous loamy soil, and in others a vast body of black peaty earth. In other parts of this district the soil is of a light loamy consistence, highly favourable to the growth of various trees. Another portion is a mixture of clay and loam, forming fertile meadows, and above them an excellent red soil, in which turnips, potatoes, and grain, liberally repay the cultivator. The second division comprehends the eastern part of the county, extending to a considerable, but varying distance on both sides the river Usk. The soil is of a faint red colour, highly grateful, and being carefully cultivated, the whole displays the appearance of great fertility. The third division comprises the western and most mountainous parts of the county. The soil on the hills is generally of a thin peaty nature, covering strata of stone, underneath which are mines of coal and iron ore, of most unbounded productiveness. The low lands in this division are chiefly in the state of meadow and pasture, whilst the middle lands are occupied partly by pasture and partly by arable husbandry. The rivers of this county have been generally ce- River*, lebrated for the picturesque scenery which their banks displaj', and which, added to the many remains of antiquity that are to be seen near them, invite the visits of numerous parties in the summer months, and afford the highest gratification to travellers of taste. The most eminent of these rivers, in beauty as well as

M O N Monmouth- utility, is the Wye. It rises on the southern side of drirc. PHnlimmon, in Montgomeryshire, and forming the division line between the counties of Brecon and Radnor, passes through a part of Herefordshire, and enters this county at Dizon, becomes navigable for boats at Monmouth, and empties itself into the Severn at Chepstow. The beauties of this stream are derived from the sinuosities of its course, the uniformity of its breadth, the picturesque country through which it flows, and, among many other striking objects on its banks, from the Abbey of Tintern, and the mansion and grounds of Piercefield. The tide in this river rises at Chepstow to a greater height than in any other English river; at the bridge of that town the elevation has been between 50 and 60 feet, and it takes place with most unusual celerity. The Usk rises in the black mountains of Brecknockshire, and when it enters this county, passes between lofty hills, which gives its borders every variety of beauty that landscape can display. It is navigable for a short distance, and only for barges. It abounds with salmon, some of which are frequently caught in it of a most unusual size. The other rivers are the Rumney, the Monnow, and the Ebwy, each of which has peculiar and characteristic beauties. Canals and The heavy productions of this county, iron, coal. Rail-roads. and limestone, have given rise to the establishment of various canals for their conveyance. The Monmouthshire canal begins at Newport, and dividing into two branches, connects that town, by one, with Pontypool and Pontnewyd, and by the other with Crumlin Bridge. The Brecknockshire canal unites with this, and passes, in its course, under a hill by means of a tunnel 360 feet. The county is most abundantly supplied with rail-roads, leading from the principal mining districts to the canals; and many private mines have small rail-ways, provincially called tram-roads, leading to the principal iron railroads, by which a facility is afforded to the conveyance of productions through a country whose roads are eminently bad. Agriculture. The agricultural productions are wheat, barley, and oats, with a few pease and beans. They are sufficient for the supply of the inhabitants, and the small surplus, as well as much fruit, is sent to the markets of Bristol. On the arable lands the system of summer fallowing is pretty generally pursued. The principal manure is lime, the stone from which Lire Stock, it is burnt being most abundant. Ihe oxen of this county are highly esteemed both for draught and for fattening. They are usually a deep red colour, short in the legs, and compact in the carcase, being a cross between the breeds of Hereford and Glamorgan. They are very docile in harness, and will fatten so as to weigh from seven to nine hundred weight. They are much sought after by the English graziers, who purchase them when young, and after employing them in labour, fatten them tor the butcher. I he sheep are remarkably small, the wool is short and coarse, but the flesh is fine in the grain, and of a most delicate flavour. Of late years much improvement has been made in the flocks by judicious crosses with the Cotswold, Southdown, and Dorset sheep. The horses of the county are generally a very mea-

M 0 N 537 gre, light, and uncompact breed. In this county Monmomhand Brecknockshire the breeding and rearing of shire’ mules is carried to a greater extent than in any w3^’vother part of the island. They are found very beneficial in the hilly districts, where the mines are worked. Male asses are imported from Spain and the south of France, to propagate, and the mules are frequently of a size and strength equal to the natives of those countries. The landed property of this county is in few hands, Division of but divided generally into small farms, varying in Property, rent from L.70 to L.200. The leases are generally for 21 years, and the conduct of the landlords to their tenants is liberal, and somewhat parental. Many farms are held by copy of the court roll. The greatest riches of Monmouthshire are deriv- Mines, ed from its mines. Coal and iron ore abound in all the hills. The facilities for interior conveyance have been before noticed. The coals of this county have, under the act of Parliament for constructing the canal, the peculiar privilege of being carried to the opposite shore, including the city of Bristol and the towns on that coast, as far as Bridgewater, without paying the water-borne duty. This gives to them a monopoly of those large markets, to the exclusion of the collieries in the forest of Dean, and of Glamorgan and Carmarthenshire. The proprietors of these last mentioned mines have petitioned Parliament to be placed on a similar footing,, but, after a most patient investigation of all the circumstances in a committee, the peculiar rights of the coals brought by the Monmouthshire canal were confirmed. The iron mines were worked as early as the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and made a rapid progress ; but owing to the great consumption of wood, which soon caused a scarcity of fuel, they had sunk very low till about fifty years ago, when the mode of making iron from coke was introduced. This discovery, with the improvements in machinery, has given a vast impulse to the working the iron mines. Fifteen or sixteen works, on the largest scale, and many smaller ones, have been established. At one period, the weekly delivery of pig-iron and bar-iron from these different works is stated to have amounted to a thousand tons. The abundance of iron, and the facility of inter- Manufaccourse with Cornwall, have led to the establishmentUiresof some very extensive manufactories of tin plates. The manufactory of a kind of Japan ware wras first practised in England by Thomas Allgood of Pontypool, in the reign of Charles the Second; and though the skill of Birmingham has been successfully exerted to rival the town from whence that ware derived its name, the business is still continued there, but upon a small scale. The manufactory of caps, for which Monmouth was celebrated at the period when Shakespeare wrote, has been long abandoned. At Newport and Chepstow there are some considerable establishments for building ships. Few parts of the island contain more numerous or Antiquities, better preserved remains of Roman and Saxon antiquity than this county. Caerleon was long the metropolis of the British dominions, and the residence of King Arthur. The ruins of the wall, 530 yards by 480, are still to be traced ; and the vast

MON. 538 Monmouth- masses of stones, which are now in a confused state, shire. show that it was formerly a place of great importance. There are many Roman encampments still visible. The remains of the abbeys of (jracedieu, Llantarnam, Llanthony, and Tintern, and of the priories of GoldclifF, Ibynemark, Monmouth, and Usk, invite the close examination of antiquarians. The castles of Abergavenny, Carleon, Caldecot, Castell-Glas, Chepstow, Dinham, Grosmont, Llanfair, Scenfrith, Striguil, Usk, and Llandeilo, are the most remarkable among numerous other similar buildings. The character of the architecture of the churches of Abergavenny, Carleon, Caldecot, Chepstow, Newport, and others, discovers a very ancient origin. The antiquities of Monmouthshire would, indeed, require a volume for their delineation. Civil and The county gives the title of Earl of Abergavenny Ecclesiastical Affairs. to the family of Neville, not by creation or writ, but as possessors of the castle of that town. Ihe Irish Marquis of Ormond derives from it the title of Baron Butler, and the Duke of Beaufort is Baron Herbert of Chepstow and Rogland, and Baron Beaufort of Caldecot Castle. The members to the House of Commons are two for the county and one for the united boroughs of Monmouth, Newport, and Usk. The whole county is w ithin the diocese of Llandaff, except three parishes, which are in St David’s, and three others in that of Hereford. The English Judges, on the Oxford circuit, hold the assizes twice a year at Monmouth. Divisions The county is divided into six hundreds, and conand Popu- tains one hundred and twenty parishes and seven lation. market towns. At the census of 1811, there were returned 12,12? houses, inhabited by 12,548 families. Of these families 5815 were employed in agriculture, 4812 in trade and manufactures, and 1916 in other occupations. The number of inhabitants was 62,127, viz. 30,98? males and 31,140 females. The baptisms of males, the preceding years, were 642, and of females 632. The burials of males were 514, of females 444. The marriages were 416. The towns which contain more than 1000 souls are as follows: Houses. Inhabitants. 675 3503 Monmouth, 575 2815 Abergavenny, 416 2728 Ushkawreod, 42f) 2581 Chepstow, 2423 Trevethin (including Pontypool), 466 445 2346 Newport, 302 1626 Aberystvvith, 341 1572 Llanofer, 218 1230 Mamhole, 235 11G? Machen, 241 1138 Llanwenarth, 194 1098 Mynydd-maen, 212 1052 Pan league, 205 1010 Penmaen, The seats of noblemen and gentlemen within the county are very numerous ; the most remarkable are, Troyhouse, Duke of Beaufort; Bix Weir, General Rooke; Courtfield, William Vaughan, Esq.; Coldbrook, J. H. Williams, Esq.; Dynastow Court, Samuel Bosanquet, Esq.; Kesneyshouse, L. Lord,

M O N Esq.; Llanarth Court, John Jones, Esq.; Llanofer, Monmouth. Benjamin Waddington, Esq.; Llanvitsangle, Earl of shire Oxford ; Mamheled, W. Morgan, Esq.; Mayndec, Sir Robert Kemeys ; Pen Park, — Williams, Esq.; meryshire. Piercefield, Nathaniel Wells, Esq.; Pont y Pool, C. H. Leigh, Esq.; Tredgar, Sir Charles Morgan, Bart.; Trewyn, J. Rosier, Esq.; Wynastovv Court, Thomas Swinnerton, Esq. See Coxe’s Historical Tour in Monmouthshire; History of Monmouthshire, by David Williams ; Donovan’s Descriptive Excursions through South Wales and Monmouthshire ; Strange’s Roman Antiquities at Caerlcon and Caenucnt; Fox’s General View of the Agriculture of Monmouthshire. (w. w.) MONTGOMERYSHIRE, an inland county ofBoundariee North Wales. It is bounded on the east by Shrop- anr00^’ or rather river Rhai'adr, (for, after rains, it deserves the latter name), runs over a gentle declivity for a short distance, and then suddenly precipitates itself over a perpendicular ledge, from whence it falls, rather in the form of spray than in that of a torrent, to the depth of two hundred feet, while the projecting rocks that intercept its fall cause a spectacle and sounds that are highly terrific. This cataract appears in its grandeur only after a wet season, tor in very dry weather it is an insignificant rill. Agriculture. The agriculture of Montgomeryshire is in a very backward state ; not one-eighth of the land is under the plough; about three-eighths of it is devoted to pasture, but the food it produces is small for the extent on which it grows. Nearly half the county is in an uncultivated state, or covered with wood. Some few good cultivators have of late, in some spots, introduced the Norfolk four course system of turnips, barley, clover, and wheat, but it prevails to a very limited extent, owing to the deficiency of capital among the occupiers. The greater part of the arable land is destined to produce corn, without intermission, till it becomes exhausted, when it returns of itself to a very imperfect and unproductive kind of pasture. Though these remarks refer to the greatest part of the county, yet a part of it adjoining to Shropshire forms a very laudable exception, as it is well cultivated, and very prolific, especially on the banks of the Severn. In almost every part of the county hemp is cultivated for domestic use, in small patches, and the making it into cloth forms the employment of itinerant weavers. Cattle. The cows of this county somewhat resemble the Devonshire breed, and are said to have been originally brought from that county. When removed to better pasture, and fattened, they are highly valued by the butchers, because they yield less olfal, and collect a greater mass of flesh on the more valuable parts of the body. The sheep are of small size, but their mutton is exquisite. The wool is of very fine quality, and the best Welsh flannels are made from it. There is a very numerous breed of small horses on the mountainous parts of Montgomeryshire, which are nearly in a state of nature. They are known by the name of Merlyns, and range through the whole year over the most elevated parts of the country. By their exposure, and the ease with which they are subsisted, they acquire a very hardy frame, and are capable of performing labour far beyond what their size and apparent strength indicate. They are driven, when needed, into an inclosure, where the best are selected from those that have attained their third year, and the remainder are turned out to range at large as before. Notwithstanding their diminutive size, the greater part of the commodities furnished by the county are conveyed on their backs from one place to another. The vallies in this county have been long celebrated for a breed of excellent horses, introduced originally from the south of Spain, by the Earl of Shrewsbury in the reign of Queen Elizabeth ; these, by various crosses, have been much improved, and they now furnish some of the best hunters in the kingdom, from uniting strength with speed. Lime and Limestone is not generally found in this county, Fuel. VOL. v. PART II.

M O N 539 and rarely unmixed with argillaceous earth ; so that Montgomethe lime required for building is brought from one rysbire. extremity to the other by the canal. Coal is only found in an angle of the county, on the borders of Salop ; the quantity is small, and its combustive quality causes it to burn so rapidly, as .to make it a much more expensive fuel, except in the vicinity of the pits, than either wood or turf. The mineral which abounds most in the mountains Minerals, of Montgomery is lead, which is raised in many parts of them. The ore known by the name of galena, provincially called potters ore, was formerly discovered in a prodigious vein at Llangynnog, but, after much profitable excavation, the miners reached a fault in the vein, and its continuance has not been yet ascertained. At Llanymynach are the vestiges of mines worked in very remote periods, which exhibit intricate recesses, and form a kind of subterraneous labyrinth. Both copper and lead ore are still found in these ancient mines, and zinc, in unison with sulphuric and carbonic acids, known by the common appellations of calamine, and black-jack. A very rich lead mine at Tallessi was formerly worked, and yielded large profits to its owner, Sir Watkins Williams Wynne; but, owing to a great increase of water, the working has been discontinued. The ranges of mountains are partly composed of schist, from which are drawn large quantities of slates, applied to the covering of houses, or sent to London and Bristol, to be fitted for writing. This was formerly one of the best wooded coun- Timber, ties of North Wales, and it has, for the last seventy years, contributed to supply a great part of the best oak timber to the Royal Dock-yards. The size of the Montgomeryshire oaks has made them much prized for naval purposes; some have been felled which have contained more than 600 cubic feet. This oak is of a remarkably good quality, but the difficulty of conveyance has rendered the price very low on the spots where it is grown, and formerly much of even the most valuable quality was used for fuel. The only manufactures are of woollens, made from Ma lui’ac. the fleeces of their native sheep, and mostly confined tureito flannels known through England, and highlyprized, under the denomination of fVels/i Jlannels. They have been imitated both in Lancashire and Yorkshire, but have not been equalled in fineness of texture, combined with softness. The farmers, and even the cottagers, make these flannels ; and they are collected by a kind of middle-men, w ho bring them to the market of Welshpool, whence they are sold to the merchants of Shrewsbury, who distribute them over the kingdom. The annual value sold at the market is about L. 50,000, and the cost of the wool is estimated at about half that amount. Two members are returned to Parliament, one for the county, and one for the borough of Montgomery, the county town. In 1811, the population amounted to 53,700 per- Population, sons; Welshpool then contained3440, and Montgomery 932. The most remarkable seats of noblemen and gentlemen are, Powis Castle, Lord Powis; Lydiarth Hall, Sir W. W. Wynne, Bart.; Llangedwen, Mr Wynne ; Towyn, E. Corbet, Esq.; Llandinam, M. 3 z

540 MON Montgome- Stephens, Esq.; Vayner, Captain Windus; Newton ryishirc park} iiichartl Shaw, Esq. Moore

See Aikin s Tour in ’ Wales; Evans’s North Wales ; Cambrian Itinerary. (w* was in reality only a planet of the solar system. With the approbation of the viceroy, he began to dispense mathematical, and especially astronomical knowledge, to the pupils in the college of the Rosario; and he had the satisfaction, long before the close of a protracted life, to see a race of scholars formed on the principles of the Newtonian philosophy, in spite of the anxious and alarming fears of their parents, who, on its first introduction, considered it impious, or at least heretical. He continued diligently exploring the Andes for every vegetable production, during the intervals of instruction in astronomy, and continued both pursuits with unabated ardour. When his patron Cerda had finished the period of his Viceroyship, he proposed to Mutis to return with him to Spain, but he was so much fascinated with the solitude of the vast woods and extended plains, with the features of nature displayed on the boldest scale, and the deep azure of the unclouded sky, that he determined, under their favouring auspices, to spend the rest of his life in South America, in the contemplation of vegetation, and of the starry world. His studies, instead of producing scepticism, strengthened his religious faith, and, under its influence, he entered into holy orders in 1772. From that period, he divided his time between religion and the sciences, and, whilst in the former he was a model of ecclesiastical virtue, he displayed in the latter the qualities of a ge-. nuine philosopher. It was a fortunate circumstance, both for the science of botany, and for the fame of Mutis, that the Court of Madrid felt a peculiar interest in the promotion of that study% and appointed commission-

* In memoriam Joseph! Coelestini Mutis, Americes summi Botanic!, qui historian, plantarum Americanum, in primis Polmarum, pulcherriraara parat, et plurima nova h.nc opuscnla commun.cav.t, Lm. Suppl. p. 57. Notnen immortale quod nulla aetas unquam delebit. inn. . . . + Cavanilles, in writing, thus expresses himself: “ In honorem sap.ent.ss.m. vm (J. C. Mut.s qu, jure merito Botanicorum in America princeps salutatur, debetque et.ara mter pnmates Europeos colocan.

561 Mutis.

562 Mutis. s v-

M tf T ers in each of its extensive dominions in America to investigate, arrange, describe, and draw their various productions. Mutis was appointed president of the Botanical Board for the Viceroyalty of Santa Fe, and commenced his operations by the project of that great work the Flora of Bogota, which only the munificence of a government could enable him to undertake. In 1782, he selected the spot most favourable for executing this great design, and, judging the central situation of Mariquita, at the foot of the mountains of Quindiu, to be the best adapted for his purpose, he removed thither, and resided in that place for the succeeding seven years, in pursuance of his plan of study. The place was admirably chosen ; for though at the foot of the Andes, it is on a high level, and in a temperate climate; and, being in the vicinity of the river Magdalena, though considerably higher, it has the advantage of easy access to every degree of temperature, and to all the various family of plants which the greatest possible differences of climate can produce. In this secluded town, he and his pupils were constantly employed in roaming in the extensive plains, penetrating the thickest woods, scaling the highest mountains, and at times encountering the severe heat of the valleys, whilst collecting every rarity of the vegetable kingdom. He there created a class of painters, who drew the plants as they were collected : he had a school of engraving, in which were executed some of those large plates, which have excited so much admiration among the botanists and artists of Europe. The state of his health, arising principally from the exertions he made, and the hardships he encountered in these pursuits, induced him to remove from Mariquita in 1772, and fix his residence again in the capital, to which he was also drawn by the desire of being nearer to a greater number of artists, than could be collected in the retired spot from whence his exploratory journeys had been directed. His labours in perfecting the Flora were continued with unabated industry till the end of his life, and after his decease the work was continued by some of his pupils; though it has received serious interruptions from the civil wars, in the course of which some of those appointed to continue it were cut off amidst the contests of the various revolutionary factions. Among these is particularly to be regretted Don Francisco Caldas, who was endeared to Mutis, and most nearly resembled him in his industry, and his attachment to the study of natural history. Besides the great work, the Flora, Mutis finished one on the history of the trees of the quina species, and exercised his great acuteness in the investigation of the varieties of that family, whose bark has introduced a new era in the practice of medicine. Amidst his botanical labours, Mutis never neglected his astronomical observations and experiments. It had often been suggested by philosophers in Europe, that the moon had probably an influence on the barometer, similar to what it exercises on the tides. The situation of Santa Fe was favourable for a variety of experiments, which Mutis conducted, and by which he ascertained the fact so clearly, as to remove all doubts on the subject. He was instrumen-

M U T tal in obtaining powers from Madrid for the con- Mutis. struction of an observatory on the summit of the^*-^^ Andes, at a far higher elevation than any of the observatories of Europe are placed. He had remarked, that the blue of the firmament appears darker in proportion to the elevation at which the observer stands, and that on the highest attainable situations, the sky seems almost black ; so that the stars shine with a brilliancy uninterrupted by clouds, and even in day-light, are visible without the help of glasses. He deemed the position favourable for astronomical observations, and especially for those of the fixed stars ; for being near the equator, it commanded a view of the constellations both of the northern and southern hemispheres; and from its height, the observer is little liable to interruption from intervening clouds, or to errors from the inconstancy of the refractions. At his earnest recommendation, and under his inspection, the observatory w’as begun in 1802, and finished in 1803. Some instruments were collected in the country, and others were ordered from Europe. The first were, as may be supposed, destitute of those improvements which have been more recently introduced ; and it unfortunately happened, that some of those exported from Europe were lost on the passage. The apparatus had not been completed when Mutis died, and the political storms which have agitated that country have prevented the completion of the collection. The founder had, however, directed the course of observations to be prosecuted with as much attention as the imperfection of the instruments would admit. Though the wise intentions of Mutis have been delayed, we may hope they have not been frustrated, but may look forward to a time when the catalogue of fixed stars in the southern hemisphere shall be considerably augmented, and their positions determined with the greatest accuracy. In the mean time, some astronomical and meteorological observations have been made and published, in a periodical register, and the exact latitude and longitude of the observatory has been determined. Its elevation above the level of the ocean, as determined by barometrical observations, frequently repeated, is pi116 feet. As this observatory is the first erected in South America, as it stands much higher than any other that ever was constructed, if its advantages shall be properly improved, it will be a benefit to science, and a durable monument to the fame of its founder. Mutis enjoyed good health through a long life, which was closed in a manner worthy of a philosopher and a Christian, without pain or struggle, 11th September 1808. He left various manuscript works on plants, on meteorology, and on mining ; an herbarium of upwards of 20,000 plants, more than 5000 drawings of plants, and a large collection of woods, of shells, of minerals, and skins of animals. He had also a very extensive collection of oil-paintings, of all the various animals of the viceroyalty coloured, in exact conformity to nature. It was the last wish he expressed, that his valuable collections might furnish the basis of a national museum ; but the turbulent season which commenced soon after his death, a

M U T Mutis and the unsettled state in which public affairs have II since continued, have hitherto prevented the ful^y50^, filment of his wishes. See El Espanol. Diario de Saida Fe. (w. w.) MYSORE, properly Maisoor, a large province of the south of India, principally situated between the 11th and 15th degrees of northern latitude, and now surrounded by the British territories, subject to the presidency of Madras. This province consists of a high table land, elevated 3000 feet above the level of the sea, from which rise a number of lofty hills, containing the sources of many rivers, the principal of which are the Cavery, Toombuddra, Yedawati, Bhadri, Penar, &c. The climate of this elevated region is temperate and healthy to a degree unknown in any other track of similar extent within the tropics. The rainy season is here more moderate than on either of the sea coasts, but of much longer duration ; and during other seasons of the year the verdure is frequently refreshed by enlivening showers. Its soil produces not only all the grains and vegetables of other parts of India, but also many of the fruits of Europe. The cultivation is also much aided by means of reservoirs and wells, from whence the farmers irrigate their fields and gardens. The inhabitants are in general Hindoos; but the country having been so often the scene of warfare, it is not nearly so populous as Bengal, and some other of the British provinces. It produces horses, cattle, sheep, and swine, but none of them of a good size. This province is divided into three districts, named Fatana, Nagara, and Chatrakal: each district is managed by an Amildar, who is an officer of justice, police, and revenue, and who is accountable for his conduct to the ministers of the Rajah, who are kept to their duty by the presence of the British resident. As this province is now particularly connected with the British interests, and, from a rival state, is become one of our staunchest allies, it is requisite to enter at some length into its political history. The ancestor of the reigning family is said to have been the chief of a band of herdsmen, who emigrated with their flocks and cattle from the province of Gujerat, and were allowed to settle in Mysore. The first person of this tribe who distinguished himself was named Vijeya, in consequence of an act of bravery. He married the heiress of the Wadiar, or chief of the town of Caroogully and its dependencies, and succeeded his father-in-law. His immediate successors are not known ; but, in the year 1507> Cham Raj took possession of the government, but still acknowledging himself as a subject of the Maha Rajah of Annagoondy, who was a descendant of the ancient Hindoo monarchs of Bijanagur. Tim Raj succeeded in 1548, and annexed some other districts to his government. Heere Cham Raj ruled from 1571 to 1576, and was succeeded by his cousin Raj Wadeyar, who appears to have taken advantage of the declining power of his lord paramount, not only to annex to his own estates those of the Rajah of Chickraipatam, but to take possession of the city and fortress of Seringapatam. This event occurred in the year 1610, and may be considered as the sera of their sovereignty. After this event, he subdued several of the neighbouring Wadeyars, and kept them in convol. v. PART 11.

M Y S 563 finement at Seringapatam. He died in the year 1617, Mysore, and was succeeded by his grandson Cham Raj, who added considerably to the Mysore territories, and died in 1637- He was succeeded by a posthumous son of the former Rajah, named Immadee Raj, who, in the course of a short time, was poisoned by his prime minister. Canty Revy Narsa Raj, second cousin of the deceased, was the next sovereign of Mysore. He made various conquests, and reigned till 1659. He was the first prince who established a mint, and coined the Jianams and pagodas, still cuirent, which go by his name. Dud Deo Raj was his successor; he made several conquests, and died in 1672. Chick Deo Raj mounted the throne in 1672, and died in 1704. This prince completed the subjugation of the turbulent landholders, made a number of prudent regulations which still exist; and, among other accessions, acquired by purchase the town and fortress of Bangalore. He also sent an embassy to the Mogul Emperor Aurungzebe, who conferred on him a splendid title, and granted him permission to sit on an ivory throne, which is still in existence, and was used on the late installation. Canty Raj, son of the last sovereign, mounted the throne in 1704. Having been born deaf and dumb, he was called the Dumb Rajah. It was in this reign that the great influence of the Dulwoy, or prime minister, commenced, which ever after rendered the Rajah a mere pageant. After a nominal reign of ten years, the Dumb Rajah died, and was succeeded by Dud Kishen Raj, who left the management of affairs entirely to his ministers, and died, after an inglorious reign, in the year 1731. He was succeeded by Cham Raj, who, not having been found of a sufficiently pliable disposition, was deposed and imprisoned by his ministers, in the year 1734. On this event, the Mysore ministers deviated from the regular line of succession, and chose a boy of five years old, of another branch of the royal family, named Chick Kishen Raj, to be the pageant of their government. The division of public business was at that period distributed in the offices of, 1st, Dulwoy, or commander-inchief ; 2dly, Serv Adikar, or comptroller of the revenue ; and, 3dly, Purdhan, or privy counsellor. The first of these offices was held by Deo Raj, the second by Nunjeraje; but they subsequently exchanged appointments, and the influence of the latter was much increased by the marriage of his daughter to the young Rajah, in the year 1746. It was under the command of Nunjeraje Dulwoy, that a large Mysorean army marched to the assistance of the British, and their ally the Nabob Mohammed Aly, in the year 1753; but as the promised bribe, held out for his assistance (the cession of the fortress of Trichinopoly), was not complied with, he shortly after became their enemy, and for nearly two years laid siege to Trichinopoly; but, in the end, was compelled to abandon it, in consequence of the invasion of Mysore by an army of Mahrattas. From this period may be dated the decline of the minister’s power, the downfall of the Hindoo dynasty, and the succession of a Mahometan usurper, whose history being not generally known, it is deemed requisite to insert an abridgment of it here. The great-grandfather and grandfather of Hyder 4c

564 M Y S Mysore. Aly were both named Mohammed; they were religious persons, who emigrated from the Punjab, and settled in the vicinity of the tomb of Geeso Deraz, the famous saint of Kalberga. The son of the y ounger Mohammed was named Futteh Aly, who, having entered the array as a private soldier, rose by degrees to the rank of commander of a regiment, with the title of Naick. This person improved his fortune by marriage, but was killed in an engagement about the year 1729* Some time previous to his death, he had raised a mausoleum over his father and his wife, in the vicinity of the town of Colar, and was buried there. After the battle in which Futteh Aly was killed, his family were taken prisoners, and plundered of every thing they possessed. The widow, accompanied by her two sons, Shabaz-Saheb and Hyder, boys, took refuge with her brother Ibrahim, who commanded a small body of peons or infantry, in the service of the governor of Bangalore. When the elder brother Shabaz had attained a sufficient age, his uncle procured for him a recommendation to an officer of rank in Seringapatam ; and he was received into the service as a subordinate officer of infantry, in which situation he distinguished himself, and gradually rose to the command of ^00 cavalry and 1000 infantry. It is probable, that Hyder profited by the good fortune of his brother, and was employed by him in a subordinate situation ; but he does not appear to have distinguished himself till the year 1749, when, during the siege of Deonhally, by his intrepidity and zeal, he attracted the attention of the Dulwoy Nunjeraje ; and, upon the capitulation of the place, was promoted to the command of it, with a garrison of 200 infantry and 50 cavalry. Permission was also granted him to augment the number of troops, if he found it requisite. During the contest between the Nizam Nasir Jung, and his rival Muzuffir Jung, in the year 1750, Hyder Aly commanded part of the quota of Mysore troops, and distinguished himself in resisting the French column ; but as soon as Nasir Jung was killed, he employed his followers in plundering the camp of his late master; and, amongst a number of other valuables, carried off two camels laden with gold, 300 horses, and 500 stand of arms, all of which he conveyed safely to Deonhally. Hyder Aly was again employed at the siege of Trichinopoly; and during the battle of the 17th of August 1754, between the Bi'itish and the French armies, with their allies on both sides, Hyder seeing the baggage of the British left without protection, ordered some of his troops to amuse the Tanjorine cavalry in front, whilst he with another body galloped round, and fell upon the rear of the convoy, amongst which he created great confusion, and seized 35 carts laden with ammunition and stores. On the retreat of the Mysoreans in 1755, Hyder was detached in the command of an army, consisting of 5000 infantry, 2500 cavalry, six guns, and a number of irregular troops, to secure the district of Dindigul. During the three years he continued in the government of Dindigul, he very considerably increased the number of his troops, disciplined his battalions, and took into his service several French artificers, under whose superintendence he formed a laboratory, arsenal, &c.

M Y S In the year 1758, a serious mutiny having broken Mysore, out amongst the troops at Seringapatam, Hyder Aly was ordered to march thither with all his regular corps. Partly by fair means, and partly by force, he succeeded in quelling the mutiny, and in disbanding the army ; in reward for which service, he was gratified with the fortress and adjoining district of Bangalore, as a fief or personal estate. In the following year, Hyder was invested with the command of all the troops employed against the Mahrattas, and was at the same time authorized to conclude a peace with them ; but as this object could not be obtained without a large sum of money, and the government could not advance above half the amount, he was directed to borrow the remainder from the bankers; and in order to effect this, certain districts were assigned to him, to be held in pledge till the bankers should be reimbursed. Having appointed his own collectors to the districts, he borrowed the money, satisfied the Mahrattas, and returned in triumph to Seringapatam. His reception by the Dulwoy and young rajah was most gracious ; by the former he was distinguished by the epithet of son, and by the latter honoured with the title of Behauder (the champion), which he ever after retained. In this sketch of the history of Hyder Aly, it is impossible to describe the various intrigues by which he subverted the authority of the Dulwoy (minister), and got the rajah completely into his own power. But his overweening confidence had nearly ruined him. In the month of May 1760, Hyder Aly was induced, by the intrigues of the French, to detach to their assistance almost the whole of the regular army then at Seringapatam; whilst he continued to reside in a garden a short distance from the city, with a guard of only 100 horse, and a battalion of infantry. The rajah and his mother, a woman of considerable talent, weary of the tyranny of their oppressor, entered into a secret treaty with a Mahratta chief, who was encamped on the frontiers, and who agreed to send, on an appointed day, 6000 chosen horse to their assistance; but owing to the procrastination of the Mahrattas, and an ill-timed attack from the foot on the cantonment of Hyder, he effected his escape ■with his hundred cavalry, attended by some camels laden with treasure, and succeeded in reaching the fortress of Bangalore, which was garrisoned by his owrn troops. This event took place on the 13th of August 1760. Immediately on Hyder’s entering Bangalore, he sent off an express to recal the army from the Carnatic, under the command of his brother-in-law Mukhdum Sahib; and dispatched orders to the various detachments of his troops, dispersed over the country, to join him without loss of time. By degrees he was joined by his detachments, by new levies, by the Carnatic army, and by what was of great consequence, 200 French European cavalry, and 100 infantry, with some light artillery. With these forces, aided by intrigue, he defeated the Mysore troops in several engagements, and in the month of May 1761, again got possession of the person of the rajah. Hyder Aly, although now possessing all the real power of a sovereign, was still desirous of legalising his usurpation ; he

M Y S Mysore, therefore, by means of presents or concessionsi re^ ceived from the Nizam of the Dekhan a grant of the zemindary of Mysore, with a patent constituting him a Heft Hazary, commander of 7000 horse in the imperial service, and the title of Nabob Hyder Aly Khan Behauder. In the year 1763, he conquered the countries of Bednoor, Soonda, and Canara; and in the three succeeding years, Calicut, and the greater part of Malabar. In 1766, the rajah Chick Kishen Deo died. When this circumstance was reported to Hyder, who was then at Coimbatoor, he ordered the funeral rites to be performed with all the usual ceremonies, and directed that the eldest son of the deceased, named Nunje Raj, should be placed on the throne, with the same parade and pomp as had formerly been used for his ancestors. Nunje Raj died, or was murdered, after a nominal reign of five years, and was succeeded by his younger brother Cham or Syama Raj, who, by the indulgence or policy of Hyder, was installed in the same manner as his predecessor. In 1767, the Mahrattas and the Nizam, aided by a British auxiliary force, entered into an alliance against Hyder Aly. They in consequence invaded Mysore, and after having taken several of the fortresses, advanced towards Seringapatam. In this dilemma, Hyder ordered all the forage to be destroyed, and took post on the banks of the river Cavery, in an entrenched camp. After some days skirmishing, Hyder contrived, by his wonderful skill in politics, not only to make peace with the Mahrattas, but to conclude an alliance with the Nizam against the British. In virtue of this treaty, the allied forces invaded the Carnatic in September ; and on the 26th of that month a general engagement took place in the vicinity of Erroar. The British gained the victory, by which the Nizam, being intimidated, was glad to make peace, leaving his ally to extricate himself in the best manner he could. Hyder, much mortified by this event, commenced a regular retreat to his own country, and was pursued by the British forces under General Smith. ‘When both armies had advanced nearly to Seringapatam, Hyder leaving his infantry and artillery to continue the retreat, wheeled off with all his cavalry, turned the rear of the British army, re-entered the Carnatic, and in a few days was at the walls of Madras. By this manoeuvre, he so intimidated the Madras government, that they were glad to make peace with him. The terms of the treaty were short and simple. All prisoners and places taken during the war were to be restored, freedom of trade was stipulated, and an offensive and defensive league concluded. In the year 1771, Mysore was invaded by a powerful army of Mahrattas, who, after defeating Hyder, advanced to, and blockaded his capital; but fortune again favoured him, by the indisposition and death of the young Peishwa, by which event dissension was sown amongst the Mahratta chiefs, and enabled Hyder to bribe them to retreat. The years 1773, 1774-, 1775, and 1776, were devoted to the disciplining of his army, and to the gradual extension of his territories to the north and west. This he was en-

M Y S 565 Mysore. abled to do by the dissensions of the Mahratta chiefs and the Nair princes. In 1777, Cham, or Syama, the young Mysore Rajah, died without issue. Upon this occasion, Hyder ordered eight or ten boys, lineally related to the royal family, to be brought before him, and made choice of one of them, nearly in the same manner that Ulysses discovered Achilles. This boy, whose name was also Cham or Syama Raj, was the father of the present Rajah. By the treaty made with Hyder in 1769> the British had agreed to assist him against all his enemies; but when called upon to act against the Mahrattas in I771j they had declined, and from that period Hyder harboured the most bitter hatred against them. The year 1779, when the British had quarrelled with the Mahrattas, and given offence to the Nizam, seemed a favourable opportunity of satiating his revenge ; he therefore, by means of his emissaries, concluded an alliance with the above mentioned powers, and invited every other sovereign in Hindostan to join the confederacy, and to make a simultaneous attack on the British territories in their respective vicinities. In conformity with this plan, Ilyder Aly entered the Carnatic in the month of July 1780, at the head of an army consisting of 30,000 cavalry, and 40,000 infantry, with a numerous train of artillery, aided by a corps of Europeans, and a number of French officers. Hyder commanded in person the centre or main body. The left wing was under the orders of his son Tippoo Sahib, and was destined to attack the northern Circars; while the right wing, under one of his most esteemed generals, penetrated into Madura and the southern districts. During Hyder’s former invasion of the Carnatic, in 1767, he had caused his army to refrain from atrocities, and to treat the prisoners with gentleness; but on this occasion he boasted, “ that he was the engine of God’s wrath, for the punishment of the people of the Carnatic." His army was, therefore, guilty of the greatest cruelties, laying waste the whole of the country with fire and sword; not only the military who were taken prisoners, but the peaceable inhabitants of the villages, were driven off like flocks of sheep to Mysore. The boys were made Mahometans, and the girls disposed of as slaves. Notwithstanding Hyder was frequently defeated by the British forces under Sir Eyre Coote, his numerous cavalry and well equipped artillery enabled him to overrun the country at pleasure, and left no part of it in the possession of his enemies, except Madras, and some other fortresses. This system of warfare continued till the death of Hyder, which took place in the city of Arcot, on the morning of the 7th December 1782, at the age of 64 years. At the period of Hyder’s decease, his dominions, exclusive of his conquests in the Carnatic, comprehended nearly 80,000 square miles; his territorial revenue amounted to two millions sterling. Although his army consisted of 150,000 men, his treasure contained several millions in bullion and specie. Tippoo Sultan, the eldest son of Hyder, having joined the army on the 2d January 1783, quietly

566 M Y S Mysore, succeeded to the empire of his father. A feeble ats i— tempt had been made in favour of the second son, called Abd al Kereem, now a state prisoner in Calcutta, but was considered of so little consequence, that the tyrant never attempted the life of his brother, who either was, or pretended to be deranged, and always wore the dress of a faheer, or hermit. The invasion of the western or Malabar coast by the British, and the capture of Bedenoor, compelled Tippoo to relinquish the views of his father on the Carnatic, and to proceed with all expedition to the defence of his own territory. He left Arcot early in March; and having, in the course of the month of April, reached Bedenoor, he compelled General Matthews to capitulate. The principal articles of the capitulation were, that the garrison were to pile their arms on the glacis, but to retain ail their private property ; they were then to be marched, by the shortest route, to the sea side, and thence to be embarked for Bombay. But Tippoo, under pretence that the public treasure had been made away with, caused all the prisoners to be plundered. They were afterwards fettered, and then dispatched to different fortresses, where most of them died through hard treatment; the general and several of the principal officers were beheaded. After this event Tippoo marched to the seaport of Mangalore, but was baffled in the siege of that place, till, in consequence of the peace between England and France, the French auxiliaries having declined any further co-operation with him, and the recent successes of the British in other parts of the country, compelled him to make peace. On the llth of March 1784, a treaty was concluded between Tippoo and the British, the principal articles of which were, that all the places taken by either party during the war were to be restored, and that all the prisoners on both sides were to be released. Tippoo being now at liberty, employed the remainder of 1784 in the complete subjugation of the Nairs of Malabar, and the conquest of the Coorg country. Having thus vanquished or made peace with his enemies, he returned in triumph to Seringapatam; when, feeling himself perfectly established, and his authority acknowledged, both by his subjects and the neighbouring powers, he ostentatiously mounted the throne, and assumed the title of Sultan, thereby throwing off all allegiance to or dependence on the Rajah of Mysore or the Emperor of Hindostan ; for although the name Sultan may have been given him at his birth, it certainly was never used as a title during his father’s lifetime. During the years 1785, 1786, and 1787, Tippoo was engaged in hostilities against the Mahrattas and the Nizam, in which victories were gained and defeats sustained by both parties; but the general result was in favour of the Sultan. The year 1788 was occupied by Tippoo in reforming the province of Malabar, and the forcible conversion of the inha-

M Y S bitants to the Mahometan religion. In the follow- Mysore, ing year he invaded the territories of the Rajah Travancore, who being one of the British allies, applied to them for assistance, which circumstance brought on the subsequent war, at the conclusion of which, in March 1792, Earl Cornwallis, at the head of the allied forces, compelled Tippoo Sultan to pay the sum of four millions of money, and to relinquish the half of his dominions. In the year 1796, the Mysore Rajah Cham Raj died, leaving an only son, then two or three years old, to inherit the dignity of his ancestors; but the haughty Sultan would not condescend to acknowledge even a nominal superior; and so far from exalting the boy to the throne of his forefathers, he barely allowed him to exist, in squalid poverty and humiliating contempt. From this period till the year 1799, Tippoo was engaged in constant intrigues with the French, and all the powers of Hindostan, in order to raise a confederacy against the British nation. His correspondence was detected by the Governor-general, Lord Mornington, now Marquis Wellesley. War was determined on; the British forces, with their allies, under the command of General Harris, marched to Seringapatam, and on the 4th of May 1799 put an end to the empire and life of Tippoo Sultan. It would have been no less unjust than impolitic for the British either to have taken possession of the whole of the conquered territory for themselves, or to have restored the family of Tippoo to power. It was therefore determined to place on the throne Krishna Odiaver, the son of the last Rajah, a boy of five years old; to put him in possession of the ancient capital of Mysore, with a territory surrounding it equal to that possessed by any of his ancestors, and yielding a revenue of L. 1,030,000 sterling, with the entire management of the country by his own officers ; but subject to the general superintendence of a British resident. On the 30th day of June 1799 the ceremony of installing the young Rajah took place, in a temporary building erected for the purpose in the old fortress of Mysore. It was attended by the British Commander-in-chief, by many of the principal officers of the allied forces, and by an innumerable multitude of Hindoos, who testified their most unfeigned delight on beholding a person of their own religion, the orphan of a much injured family, restored to the possessions of his ancestors. Previous to the install lation pensions had been granted to most of Tippoo’s officers, and the family of the Sultan were sent as state prisoners to Vellore, whence they were subsequently removed to Calcutta, where they now reside upon liberal allowances, and enjoy a degree of freedom much greater than would have been their lot, had these events not taken place.— Gazetteer, or Geographical Dictionary, Vol. IV. Part II.)

ADDENDUM TO VOLUME

FIFTH.

MOLLUSC A.*

Mollusca. The primary division of animals into Vertebral Invertebral, indicated in the writings of the ancients, by the terms sanguineous and exanguineous, possesses many advantages, and now appears to be universally adopted by zoologists. v Among the vertebral animals, the brain is collected into one mass at the anterior extremity of the body, and sends out a nervous cord, termed the spinal marrow, to the posterior extremity. These nervous portions are protected by a cranium and vertebral column. The invertebral animals occupy a lower station than those belonging to the vertebral group. Their nervous system, in particular, is less fully developed, and their organs of perception are greatly reduced in number. They may be distinguished readily by the following negative character: Invertebrata. Invertebral Animals. Animals destitute of a Skull and Vertebral Column for the Protection of the Brain and Spinal Marrow. The invertebral animals have few characters of a positive kind, which they possess in common. The skin, in general, consists only of a corium and cuticle, both of which, according to circumstances, are furnished with appendices, in the form of shells, crusts, scales, or hairs. These, in general, supply the place of the osseous system, serving as a protec-

tion to the viscera, and as supports to the muscles. Mollusca. The blood, in those cases where a circulating fluid can be detected, is usually of a white or grey colour, seldom inclining to red. When there are both systemic and pulmonic ventricles, they are not united as in the vertebral animals. With the exception of the genuine viviparous mode of reproduction, the invertebral animals exhibit all the other modifications of that function. In attempting the division of invertebral animals into subordinate groups, the condition of the nervous system furnishes characters of importance. In one extensive class, which, from their starry form, have been termed Radiata, the nervous matter appears to be disseminated among the different organs, and never appears in the form of a brain, with its connected filaments. In another class, equally extensive, and which, with propriety, may be denominated Gangliata, the brain appears in the form of a collar, surrounding the gullet, near its entrance into the stomach, and sending out filaments, which, in their course, expand into ganglia. In this last group are included the classes Anmdosa and Mollusca. The classification of the Annulose animals has been already communicated to our readers. The Molluscous tribes now claim our attention. The essential characters, by which these two classes may be distinguished, depend on the condition of the nervous filaments proceeding from the brain ; the principal of which, in the former, constitute a knotted cord proceeding to the extremity, while, in the latter, they separate irregularly.

* See the word Mollusca, p. 490 of this Volume.

568 Mollusca.

M O L L Independent of this internal character, molluscous animals are distinguished from those of the annulose division by the absence of articulated feet, or the cuticular processes which supply their place, and by the body not being divided into joints or rings. Under the article Conchology, a variety of details were given regarding the shells of molluscous animals, the characters furnished by these appendices of the skin which have been employed in their classification, the relative value of the different popular systems which have been proposed, together with some remarks on the physical distribution of the species, and the revolutions which, in former ages, they have experienced. The present article may, therefore, be regarded as a continuation of the one dedicated to Conchology, and as having more immediately in view the exposition of those characters which are now employed in the most approved systems of zoology. Molluscous animals divide themselves into two great divisions, which are distinguished from each other by well defined characters. In the first the presence of a head may be recognised, together with eyes and even ears, in some of the groups. In the other, containing animals much less perfect in their organization, there is no head, nor vestiges of eyes or ears in any of the groups. The former have been termed Mollusca cephala, the latter Mollusca acephala. This arrangement was first employed by the celebrated M. Cuvier, and afterwards by Lamarck and other modern systematical writers. In the last work of the former naturalist, this method is departed from, and six orders are now constituted of equal rank, instead of being placed subordinate to the two primary divisions, under which, notwithstanding, they can be suitably distributed. I. Division. MOLLUSCA CEPHALA. Head distinct from the body, bearing the lips or jaws. The head, or the anterior part of the body, on which zoologists have bestowed that denomination, possesses more or less freedom of motion, and, on the dorsal aspect, supports cither tentacula or eyes, frequently both. The animals of this division exhibit so many modifications of form and structure, in all the series of organs, that the positive characters which they possess in common are few in number. They easily admit, therefore, of subdivision into inferior groups, which exhibit well marked characters of distinction. Two of these groups occupy a primary rank, and admit of the others being included under them as subordinate sections. In the first of these, the animals are all inhabitants of the water, and perform their progressive motion through that element by organs fitted for swimming. They are destitute of any ventral disc on which to crawl. In the second group, including animals which inhabit the land, as well as those which live in fresh water and in the sea, progressive motion is performed by means of crawling along the surface of objects, the body resting on a ventral disc, termed a foot.

U S C A. I. Section. NATANTIA. Organs of Progressive Motion fitted for Swimming. The organs of motion are situated near the anterior extremity of the body, and either consist of flexible tentacula, or membranaceous expansions. All the species reside in the sea. They are nearly of the same specific gravity with the surrounding fluid, in which they float about, having their motions in a great measure regulated by its changes. It is however probable, that, by means of some contractile movements, they are capable of varying their density, and of rising or sinking in the water. They swim slowly, even with their utmost efforts. M. Cuvier has distributed the animals of this subdivision into two classes, which he has termed Cephalopoda and Pteropoda. I. Class. Cephalopoda. Fins in the form of tentacula, surrounding the mouth. Cephalopodous animals consist of a body and head. The body is surrounded by a sac or tunic, closed posteriorly, and in part open anteriorly, for the orifices of the several organs. This tunic differs greatly in its texture, and is strengthened internally by testaceous or corneous productions, or externally by means of a spiral shell. The neck is more or less distinct from the sac. The head is flattened into a disc, in the centre of which is the mouth, and, towards the margin, the tentacula take their rise. The two Linnaean genera, Nautilus and Sepia, comprehend all the animals which are at present considered as belonging to this class. I. Order. Nautilacea. Furnished with a multilocular shell. This order is involved in the greatest obscurity. None of the recent species have been subjected to an accurate examination, so that their connection with the order sepiacea may still be considered doubtful. Enough is known of the animals of two of the genera, to furnish some hints for those who are fond of classifying animals from their analogies. These genera are Spirula and Nautilus. In the Spirula, the shell, which is concealed under the skin of the back, is spiral, with the whorls separate, the mouth orbicular, the chambers perforated by a pipe, and the last cell produced into a tube. The position and use of this terminal tube are unknown. The S. vulgaris is the most common species, and inhabits the seas in the West Indies. In the restricted genus Nautilus, the shell is supposed to be external, and the body of the animal to be lodged in the last chamber, and to be fixed by a ligament which descends into the central pipe. In the shell itself, the turns of the spire are contiguous, and the last whorl embraces the others on the sides.

Mollusca.

MOLLUSC A. 569 Mollusca. The N. pompilus of Rumphius is the only species in fins approximating, their extremities free; neck Mollusca. which the animal has been detected. with a frenum behind, connecting it with the sack, The other genera which have been formed in this and with two other frena, connecting it with the order depend exclusively on the characters furnished sack before. by the shells, and the resemblance which these bear “ Sp. 1. Cranchia scabra.—Sack rough, with hard to the preceding genera constitutes all their claim to rough tubercles. be included in the present order. (See Concholo“ Sp. 2. Cranchia maculata.—£ack smooth, beaugy, Genus 18, Nautilus.) tifully mottled with distant ovate spots.” * II. Order. Sepiacea. Destitute of a multilocular shell. The sac is strengthened by horny or testaceous plates, unless where the habits of the animal render such support unnecessary. 1. Head surrounded with Eight Arms and Two Feet. The two feet are nearly similar in their structure to the arms, or tentacula, but considerably larger in their dimensions. They have their organ on the ventral side of the mouth, between that organ and the funnel. The suckers are pedunculated, with their margin strengthened by a corneous ring, furnished with teeth. The sac is furnished with fin-like expansions, and strengthened internally by corneous or testaceous ribs or plates. The head is divided from the sac on all sides by a neck. The margin of the anus is surrounded with tentacula. Genus, Sepia.—The sac is furnished on each side throughout its whole length with a narrow fin. The suckers are irregularly scattered on the arms and feet. The back is strengthened by a complicated calcareous plate, lodged in a peculiar cavity. This plate has been long known in the shop of the apothecary, under the name Cuitle-Jish bone, and belongs to the species termed S. officinalis. Genus, Loligo.—Calamary. Sides of the sac only furnished partially with fins. The suckers are disposed on the arms and feet in a double row. The dorsal plate is flexible and corneous, imbedded in the substance of the sac .and is multiplied with years. The Sepia loligo of Lin. is the type of the genus. Dr Leach has described three new species of the genus Loligo, which were collected by Mr Cranch during the voyage to the Congo, in the unfortunate expedition under the direction of Captain Tuckey. These species belong to a group which have the suckers produced into hooked processes. In two of these species, L. leptura and Smithii, the suckers on the arms, as well as the feet, are produced into hooks, while, in one species, L. Banksii, the feet only are armed with hooks. The same distinguished naturalist has instituted anew genus nearly allied to Loligo, from two species collected during the same voyage. The following characters are assigned to it. “Genus, Cranchia.—Body oval, sack-shaped;

Head surrounded with Eight Arms without Feet. The suckers have soft margins. The sac is destitute of fin-like expansions, and is either simple or strengthened in the interior by two short corneous processes. The head is united with the sac behind, without the intervention of a neck. Arms all equal in Size. Genus, Octopus.—Suckers arranged in a double row. The suckers are sessile. The oviduct is double. The margin of the anus is simple. The Sepia octopodia of Lin. is the type of the genus. Genus, Eledona.—Suckers on the arms disposed in a single row. M. Lamarck has figured and described two species of this genus, in the Mem. de la Soc. d’Hist. Nat. One of these is a native of the Mediterranean, and is remarkable for giving out an odour like musk. Arms Unequal. Genus, Ocythoe Two of the arms at their inner extremities furnished with membranaceous expansions. In this genus, which was instituted by M. Rafinesque, the suckers are in a double row, and supported on footstalks. In the specimens of the Ocy* thoe Cranchii, procured during the expedition to the Congo, Dr Leach observed “ four oblong spots on the inside of the tube, resembling the surfaces for the secretion of mucus, two inferior and lateral, and two superior, larger, and meeting anteriorly. On the rim of the sac, immediately above the branchiae, on each side, is a small, short, fleshy tubercle, which fits into an excavation on the opposite side of the sac.” Phil. Trans. 1817. This animal was long considered as the fabricator of the shell termed Argonauta or Paper Nautilus* The observations, however, of Mr Cranch, the Zoologist to the Congo Expedition, have demonstrated that the shell is merely the temporary residence of this animal, which it quits at pleasure. “ On the 13th of June,” says Dr Leach, “ he placed two living specimens in a vessel of sea-water ; the animals very soon protruded their arms, and swam on and below the surface, having all the actions of the common Polypus (octopus) of our seas; by means of their suckers, they adhered firmly to any substance with which they came in contact, and when sticking to the sides

* Narrative of an Expedition to Explore the River Zaire, usually called the Congo, in South Af rica, in 181(5, under the direction of Captain J. K. Tuckey, R. N. London,. 1818, p. 4)10..

570 MOLL Mollusca. of the basin, the shell might easily be withdrawn from the animal. They had the power of completely withdrawing within the shell, and of leaving it entirely. One individual quitted its shell, and lived several hours swimming about, and showing no inclination to return into it; and others left the shells as he was taking them up in the net. They changed colour, like other animals of the Class Cephalopoda; when at rest the colour was pale flesh-coloured, more or less speckled with purplish ; the under parts of the arms were bluish-grey; the suckers whitish.” The specimens which furnished an opportunity for making the preceding observations were met with in the Gulf of Guinea, and afterwards on the voyage, swimming in a small argonauta, on the surface of the sea. The reader, who is desirous of farther information on this subject, may consult Dr Leach's Observations on the Genus Ocythoe of Rafinesque, and Sir E. Home on the Distinguishing Characters between the Ova of the Sepia, and those of the Vermes Testacea that Live in Water, in the Philosophical Transactions for 1817. Art. xxii. and xxiii. (both of which are added to the appendix of Captain Tuckey’s Narrative), and a paper by Mr Say on the Genus Ocythoe in the Phil. Trans. 1819, Art. vii. II. Class. Piero poda. Fins formed of membranaceous expansions. M. Cuvier, whose valuable papers on the Genera Clio, Pneumodermon, and Hyalea, include nearly all the accurate information which naturalists possess, divides the animals of this class into cephalous and acephalous. In the latter division he places the genus Hyalea. The head of the animal of this genus, with its inferior neck, may, however, be sufficiently recognized to remove all doubt of its existence. The characters which may be employed in the classification of this group are numerous; but the influence which their different forms exercise on the habits of the species is still unknown. The following disposition of the genera, though it has no claims to a natural division, may be useful to the student in his investigations. I. Tunic Strengthened by a Shell. Genus, Limacina.—Posterior extremity ef the body covered by a spiral shell. The shell, which is very tender, makes one turn and a half, is flat on one side, with a large pillar cavity on the other. The fins are two in number, seated on each side of the neck. When the animal swims, the head with the fins are protruded. This genus was instituted by Cuvier, for the reception of the Clio helicina of Captain Phipps, or Argonauta arctica of Fabricius. According to Mr Scoresby, it is found in great quantities near the coast of Spitzbergen. Genus, Hyalea.—Posterior extremity of the body protected by two connected shelly valves. The Hyalea tridentata, the best known species of the genus, was first noticed by Forskael, in his Descriptiones Animalium, p. 124«, as an anomia, and inhabiting the Mediterranean. The same species was 8

U S C A. likewise taken in abundance in the Gulf of Guinea, Mollusca. by the expedition under Captain Tuckey. II. T unic Destitute of a Shell. A. Fins double. Posterior Extremity with Leqf-Ulce Ridges. Genus, Pneumodermon.—Head with two bundles of tentacula. The body is oval, with a narrow neck, and a fin on each side. The mouth is nearly terminal, furnished on each side with a fleshy lip, and beneath, with a fleshy chin. The tentacula consist each of a filament, with a tubercle at the end, pierced by a small hole, and considered as exercising the office of a sucker. M. Cuvier has figured and described the only known species, which he terms Pneumodermon Peronii, the trivial name being in honour of the discoverer, M. Peron. Posterior Extremity Simple. Genus, Clio.—Body ovate, with the tunic elongated and membranaceous. The head is divided into two lobes, the summits of which are furnished with tentacula. The existence of eyes has not been ascertained. The Clio Borealis, a native of the Arctic Seas, is the type of the genus. Genus, Cleodora.—Body covered with a triangular pyramidal tunic. The fins are membranaceous. The mouth is situated between them, and is furnished with a semicircular lip. This genus was instituted by Peron, for the reception of the Clio of Brown. The C.pyramidata is the best ascertained species. Brown’s Jamaica, p. 386, Tab. xliii. f. 1. Two other species were taken by the Congo expedition in S. Lat. 23 14', and E. Long. 9° 55', and S. Lat. 2° 41' E. Long. 9° 16', p. 297)3 and when referring to the ova of the vermes testacea, says, “ If the shell were formed in the ovum, the process of aerating the blood must be very materially interfered with, for this reason, the covering, or shell of the egg, first drops off, and the young is hatched before the shell of the animal is formed; this I have seen take place in the eggs of the garden snail, but in the testacea that live in water, the young requires some defence in the period, between the egg being hatched and the young acquiring its shell, which is not necessary in those that live on land; for this purpose, the ova are enclosed in chambers of a particular kind.” The assertion here made, and founded on a priori considerations, that the shell is not formed until after the egg is hatched, is opposed by every observation which we have been able to make on the subject; and what is more surprising, it is at variance with his own observations on the garden snail, the very example produced in its confirmation. The eggs of a snail laid on 5th August 1773 were hatched on the 20th of that month, and their condition at this time distinctly stated. “ On the 20th, the young were hatched, and the shells completely formed.” It is much more becoming, in a philosopher, to observe how nature operates, than to pronounce what she must do. I. Order. Terrestrial. The animals of this order reside constantly on the land. When by accident they fall into the water, they appear to be incapable of using their foot as a sucker or as a fin, and die after a few writhings. The species in general prefer moist places, and seldom are very active in dry weather. After a shower they speedily leave their hiding-places, and at this time they may be readily collected. The eggs are hatched on land. 1. Subdivision. Cloak and foot parallel, and containing the viscera between them. In this group are included those animals denominated slugs in this country. They possess four retractile tentacula, of unequal length. The eyes are two in number, in the form of black points, seated at the tips of the posterior tentacula. 1. Tribe. Cloak furnished with a shield, 4D

M O L L U S C A. 572 Mollusca. The shield is, in general, strengthened internally from the cloak by a slight fold, which, on the right Mollusca. > I— by a deposition of earthy matter, in the form of side, forms a groove, leading from the base of the right tentaculum to the posterior extremity of the grains, or a plate. body. It is inferred from this appearance, that the A. Shield anterior. In this group, the shield is placed nearer the head sexual organs are disjoined, the female parts being than the tail. It contains four genera, two of which seated in the tail, while the male organs occupy the have compound tails, or furnished with peculiar or- ordinary position. The only species, Limacellus lacgans, while in the remaining genera the tails are tescens, is supposed to have been brought from the Antilles. simple. B. Shield posterior. 1. Extremity of the Tail Compound. In this group, the shield is placed nearer to the Genus, Avion A mucous orifice at the termina- tail than in the preceding, and is fortified internally with a subspiral plate. It contains one genus. tion of the cloak. Genus, Parmacella.—Posterior extremity of the This genus has been recently instituted by M. le shield containing the shell. Baron D’Audebard De Ferrussac, in his Histoire The pulmonary cavity is placed undex*neath the NatureUe Generate et Particuliere du Mollusques Terrestres et Fluviatiles, folio, Paris, 1819, 3e liv. shell of the shield. This arrangement occasions a p. 53. The species of which it consists were for- corresponding posterior position to the heart. Along merly confounded with those which now constitute the back, from the shield to the head, are three the restricted genus Limax. It differs, however, in grooves, the middle one of these is double. The shield possessing the mucous pore, in the pulmonary orifice itself adheres only at the posterior portion, the antebeing near the anterior margin of the shield, with rior part being free. The internal structure is simithe sexual orifice underneath, and in the soft state lar to the slugs. The only marked difference, inof the calcareous matter in the shield. The author deed, consists in two conical appendages of the sexnow quoted has described four species, and illustrat- ual cavity, by which there is an approach to the ed their characters by beautiful and expressive fi- Helices. The Parmacella Olivieri is the only known spegures. The Limax ater (together with its variety ruJus) of British writers may be regarded as the type cies, and was first described, and its structure unfolded, by M. Cuvier. It was brought from Mesoof the genus. Genus, Pledrophorus.—A conical protuberant shell potamia by M. Olivier. 2. Tribe. at the termination of the cloak. This genus, likewise instituted by M. Ferrussac, Cloak destitute of a shield. nearly resembles the preceding in form. Three speIn this tribe, the pulmonary cavity is situate near cies have been described and figured, which, howthe tail. ever, differ remarkably from one another. A. Tail covered with a single spiral open shell. Genus, Testacella—Pulmonary cavity underneath 2. Extremity of the Tail Simple. the shell. The genera of this group have neither a terminal The vent and pulmonary cavity are from the pomucous orifice nor shell. sition of the protecting shell, on which they are deGenus, Limax—Pulmonary orifice near the pos- pendent, nearly terminal. The foot extends on each terior margin of the shield. side beyond the body. From the manner in which This genus, as now restricted by M. Ferrussac, the blood is aerated, the auricle and ventricle are differs from the Arion in the absence of the caudal placed longitudinally, the latter being anterior. mucous pore, the position of the pulmonary cavity, This genus at present consists of three speand the orifice of the sexual organs placed under the cies. One of these, T. haliotoideus, is a native of superior right tentaculum. The calcareous matter of France and Spain. It lives in the soil, and feeds on the shield is more solid, and appears as a shelly the earthworm. Another species, the T. Maugei, plate. Six species have been described and figured. was first observed at Teneriffe by M. Mauge. It has The Limax cinereus of Lister is the type of the been figured in the splendid work on the Mollusca, genus. by Ferrussac, already referred to, Tab. vii. f. 10— Genus, Limacellus.—Pulmonary orifice near the 12, from specimens found in the botanical garden of anterior margin of the shield. Bristol, and communicated by Dr Leach. It has This genus was instituted by M. de Blainville, in been conjectured, that the British animals may have the Journal de Physique, December 1817, p* 44-2, been introduced along with plants from Teneriffe. pi. 11, f. 5, nov. His observations were made on a specimen in a shrivelled state, preserved in spirits of The third species, T. amhiguus, is established on wine, which was communicated to him from Dr the doubtful authority of a shell in the collection of Leach of the British Museum. Its history is, there- M. Lamarck. B. Destitute of an external shell. fore, necessarily imperfect. The animal is rounded Genus, Veronicellus—Cloak fortified posteriorly before and pointed behind, and dorsally protuberant. The whole body is smooth, soft, and of a greyish by an internal shelly plate. Tentacula four. This genus was instituted by M. Blainville for the white colour. The shield, which adheres on all reception of the V. lavis, established from a specimen sides, is destitute of any shelly plate. It is notched near its anterior margin, at the opening of the pul- preserved in spirits, belonging to the British Mumonary cavity. The foot is broad, and separated seum, and communicated by Dr Leach. It is figured 10

M O L L U S C A. Mollusca. by Ferrussac, Tab. vii. Fig. 6, 7- The b ody is soraewhat pointed before, and rounded behind. The cloak is large; the foot rather narrow, and plaited on the edges. The opening to the pulmonary cavity is situate on^the right side posteriorly, under the shell. A little in advance of this is another opening, in the middle of which is the funnel-shaped aperture of the anus. The sexual organs are united, and placed at the base of the right tentaculum. It is not improbable, according to Ferrussac, that the Limax midus cinereus terrestris of Sloane {Jam. ii. p. 190, Tab. ccxxxiii, f. 2, 3), may belong to this genus, or rather, that the individual brought home by Sloane may have been the identical specimen submitted to M. Blainville’s examination. Genus, Onchidium.—Cloak tuberculated. Snout enlarged and emarginate. Tentacula two in number, with eyes at the tips. This genus was instituted by Dr Buchanan, in Lin. Trans. Vol. V. p. 132, for the reception of a species which he found in Bengal, on the leaves of Typha Elephantina. It is not, according to this naturalist, “ like many others of the worm kind, an hermaphrodite animal; for the male and female organs of generation are in distinct individuals. I have not yet perceived any mark to distinguish the sexes, while they are not in copulation, as in both, the anus and sexual organs are placed in a perforation (cloaca communis), in the under part of the tail, immediately behind the foot; but during coition, the distinction of sexes is very evident, the penis protruding to a great length, considering the size of the animal.” 2- Subdivision. Cloak and foot pai’allel; the viscera contained in a spiral dorsal protuberance, protected by a shell. This group includes the animals usually denominated Snails. They bear a very close resemblance to the slugs. The shield, however, has a thickened margin in front, destined to secrete the matter of the shell. In the part corresponding with the centre of the shield in the slugs there is (as Cuvier has characteristically termed it) a natural rupture* through which the viscera are protruded into a conical bag twisted spirally. In this bag are contained the principal viscera, the liver occupying its extremity. The body of the animal is attached to the pillar of the shell by a complicated muscle, which shifts its place with the growth of the animal. Ihe mouth is furnished above with a thin-arched corneous mandible, notched on the edges. The whole body, including the foot and head, are, in general, capable of being withdrawn into the cavity of the shell. In one genus, the aperture is closed by a lid. 1. Tribe. The foot is furnished with a lid or operculum, for closing the mouth of the shell when the animal withdraws itself into the cavity. Genus, Cyclostoma.—Aperture of the shell circu]ar# The tentacula are linear and subretractile. The primary ones have subglobular, highly-polished extremities, considered by Montague as the eyes. I he

573 true eyes, however, are placed at the exterior base Mollusca. of the large tentacula, and are elevated on tubercles, which are the rudiments of the second pair. The aperture of the pulmonary cavity is situate on the neck. The sexes are likewise separate ; the penis of the male being large, flat, and muscular. The mouth is formed into a kind of proboscis, and the upper lip is deeply emarginate. The Turbo elegans of British conchologists is the type of the genus. 2. Tribe. Foot destitute of a lid. A. Aperture of the shell with a thickened marginIn all this division, the margin of the shell, while the animal is young, is thin; but upon reaching a certain period, it becomes thick, and bordered with a ring, after which, there is no increase of size. 1. Last formed Whorl of the Shell greatly larger than the penultimate one.

Genus, Helix.—Snail. Aperture of the shell lunulated; the width and length nearly equal. The snails differ from the slugs chiefly in the organs of reproduction. The vagina, previous to its termination in the sexual cavity, is joined by the canal of the vesicle, and by two ducts, each proceeding from a bundle of multifid vesicles. Each bundle consists of a stem or duct, and numerous branches, with blunt terminations. These organs secrete a thin milky fluid, the use of which is unknown. The species belonging to this genus are numerous, and exhibit, in the form, the markings, and the coverings of the shell, numerous characters for their subdivision. Genus, Bulimus.—Aperture of the shell longer than broad. The structure of the animals of this genus has not been determined ; but analogy would lead us to conclude, that it is similar to the snails. While the shells of the Helix are globose, those of Bulimus are turrited. 2. Last Whorl nearly of the same size as the penultimate one, or even less. The genera of this group are already noticed sufficiently in detail, in the article Conchology of this Supplement, under the 27 genus, Turbo. B. Aperture of the shell destitute of thickened margin. There is in this group no certain indication of maturity or stationary growth. I. Mouth of the Shell at the Pillar entire. Genus, Vitrina.—Margin of the shield double. The upper fold of the shield is divided into several lobes, which are capable of being reflected over the surface of the shell. The shell itself is not capable of containing the whole body of the animal. The Helix pellucida of (Muller is the type of the genus. It is a common British species, and was hastily regarded by Montague as the fry of the Helix lucida.

MOLLUSC A. This genus was instituted by us for the recep- Mollusca. tion of the Bulla hypnorum and rivalis of Britishv— Genus, Succinea.—Termination of the pillar round* writers. The shell is more produced than in the ed. physa. The cloak of the animal is incapable of beThe Helix putris of British writers is the type of ing reflected on the shell, and its margin is destitute the genus. of lobes. Genus, Achatina.—The termination of the pillar B. Shells depressed. truncated. The spires revolve in nearly the same horizontal The Buccinum acicula of Muller, a native of Eng- line. The tentacula are long, and filiform. land, belongs to this genus ; and likewise the Helix Genus, Planorbis.—Cavity of the shell entire. octona of Linnaeus, erroneously considered as a naThis is another sinistral genus ; the vent, pulmontive of Britain. ary cavity, and sexual organs, being on the left, and the heart on the right side. The P. corneas, the type II. Order. of the genus, pours forth, when irritated, a purple fluid from the sides, between the foot and the margin Aquatic. of the cloak. The aquatic pulmoniferous gasteropoda have Genus, Segmentina—Cavity of the shell divided. their residence constantly in the water. They posExternally, the shell appears similar to planorbis; sess two tentacula only. These are usually flat- but internally, it is divided by testaceous transverse tened, incapable of being withdrawn, and having eyes partitions into several chambers, which communiat the internal base. The food consists of aqua- cate with each other by triradiated apertures. It is tic plants. Respiration can only take place at the uncertain whether the animal is to be considered as surface of the water, to which the animals occa- dextral or sinistral. This genus was instituted by sionally ascend, to expel from the pulmonary cavity us several years ago, for the reception of the Nautithe vitiated air, and replenish it with a fresh supply. lus lacustris of Lightfoot, first described and figured The sexes are united. The spawn, which is in the in Phil. Trans. Vol. LXXVI. p. 160. Tab. i. f. 1. 8. form of a rounded gelatinous mass, containing many 2. Tribe. ova, is deposited on aquatic plants under water. Previous to hatching, the foetus must be aerated by Shell simply conical. means of some branchial arrangement. Genus, Ancylus,—Foot short, elliptical. The tentacula are short, compressed, and a little 1. Subdivision. truncated. This genus was formed by Geoffroy, and Body protected externally by a shell. includes the Patella lacustris and oblonga of British The animals belonging to this subdivision bear a conchologists. very close resemblance to the snails, in the structure 2. Subdivision. of their body, and the form of their shell. Body destitute of the external protection of a 1. Tribe. shell. Genus, Peronia.—Head with two long retractile The protecting shell spirally twisted. tentacula. The snout is divided into two broad apA. Shell turrited. pendages. Between the tentacula, towards the right side, is the opening for the penis. The anus is ter1. Whorls dcxtral. minal, immediately above which is the entrance to Genus, Lymneus.—Aperture of the shell having the pulmonary cavity ; and on the right is the openthe right lip joined to the left at the base, and fold- ing to the female organs, from which a groove runs ing back on the pillar. towards the right lobe of the snout. The tentacula are lanceolate and depressed. The This, genus, which we have named in honour of mouth is furnished with three jaws; the lateral ones M. Peron, was referred by Cuvier to the Onchidium simple; the upper one crescent-shape, and emargi- of Buchanan, which we have already noticed, and nate. The male and female organs, though intimate- the species termed O. Peronii. It was found creeply connected, internally, have their external orifices ing upon marine rocks, under water, at the Mauseparated to a considerable distance, the former issu- ritius, by M. Peron. M. Cuvier conjectures that ing under the right tentaculum, the latter at the pul- it breathes free air, and has accordingly inserted it monary cavity. There are several species natives of among the Pulmones aquat/que. Some doubts, howBritain. ever, may reasonably be entertained about the truth 2. Whorls sinistral. of this supposition. It would certainly be an unexpected occurrence to find a marine gasteropodous Genus, Physa—Pillar-lip destitute of a fold. The external appearance of the animal is similar mollusca obliged to come to the surface at intervals to the Lymneus ; but the margin of the cloak is loose, to respire. It will probably be found that it is truly divided into lobes, and capable of being reflected branchiferous. II. Class. over the surface of the shell near the mouth. This genus was instituted by Draparnaud. The Bulla Branchifeka. fontinalis of British authors is regarded as the type The molluscous animals of this class are more nuof the genus. merous than those of the preceding. They chiefly Genus, Aplexa—Pillar-lip, with a fold. 2, Mouth of the Shell at the Pillar effuse.

MOLL Mollusca. inhabit the waters of the ocean, a few genera only being met with in fresh water lakes and rivers. The branchiae which constitute their aerating organs exhibit numerous varieties of form, position, and protection, and furnish valuable characters for their methodical distribution.

u S C A.

575

The branchiae form a single row on each side, and Mollusca. are qualified to act as suckers. The Limax tergipes of Forskael, Des. An. p. 99, is the type of the genus. T. maculata, described by Montagu, Lin. Trans. VII. p. 80, T. vii. f. 8, 9, is a British example. Genus, Tritonia.—Branchiae destitute of basilar sheaths. The branchiae are in the form of plumes, or imbriI. Order. cated productions, placed in a row on each side the Branchi^: external. back. The tentacula, which are partially retractile, have a sheath at the base. In some of the species The branchiae are pedunculated, and more or less there are indications of eyes. The T. arborescens, plumose. They are moveable at the will of the ani- pinnatifday and bifday are examples of British spemal, and in general are capable of great alteration cies. of form. (b.) Tentacula four in number. The branchiae are simple, tapering, or clavate, and 1. Tribe. disposed in transverse rows on each side. These branBranchiae exposed. chiae in some species readily fall off, and are capable of swimming about in the water for a short time, as In nearly all the genera the branchiae are numer- if independent. This is executed by means of mious, and distributed regularly over the cloaks or nute hairs with which their surface is covered, and sides. which move rapidly, pushing forward the distal exA. Branchiae issuing from the cloak dorsally. tremity. Genus, Montagna.—Branchiae in continuous rows 1. Body exposedy and destitute of a shell. across the back. In many species the back is covered with perforatThis genus, which differs from the other not mereed papillae, which pour out a mucous secretion. All ly in the arrangement of the branchiae, but in posthe species are hermaphrodite, with reciprocal im- sessing a cluster of short papillae on the right side, pregnation. probably connected with the anus, we have ventured a. Anus situate near the posterior extremity of to name in honour of the late George Montagu, the the back, and surrounded with a fringe of plumose well-known author of Testacea Britannica, and of branchiae. several valuable papers in the Linnean Transactions, Genus, Doris.—Oral tentacula two; vent without on molluscous animals. The two species which scales. may be referred to this genus were detected in DeThe cloak is covered with retractile papillae, and vonshire by this observer. The first, M. longicorseparated from the foot by a distinct duplicature. nis, Lin. Trans. Vol. IX. p. 107. Tab. vii. f. 1, is the Towards its anterior margin are placed the two su- type of the genus. The other species, M. ccerulea, perior tentacula. These are retractile, surrounded Lin, Trans. Vol. VII. p. 78. Tab. vii. f. 4, 5, is proat the base with a short sheath, and supported on a bably the type of another genus. Genus, Branchiae interrupted on the slender stem, having an enlarged compound plicated summit. The neck is short, and above the mouth back. This genus, which was instituted by M. Cuvier, there is a small projecting membrane, connected at each side with the oral tentacula, which are in gene- includes the following British examples : 1. E. papillose ; 2. plumosa ; 3. pedata ; 4. purpurascens. ral minute, and of difficult detection. (2.) Branchiae disposed on lateral membranaceous The following species are natives of the British seas: 1. D. Argo; 2. verrucosa; 3. Icevis; 4-. expansions. These expansions serve the double purpose of marginata; 5. nodosa; 6. quadricornis; 7- nigrisupporting the branchiae, and acting as fins. cans. Genus, Scyllea—Branchiae seated dorsally on the Genus, Polycera Oral tentacula more than two. The branchiae, when withdrawn, are protected by fins. Tentacula two. On each side of the back are two membranaceous two scales. The superior tentacula resemble those of the Doris, the oral ones are more numerous, expansions, and one on the tail, supporting on their sometimes amounting to six. P.flava and pennigera dorsal surface scattered plumose branchiae. The tentacula are each furnished with a large funnelare British examples. b. Anus situate on the right side, and uncon- shaped sheath. The foot is very narrow, with a mesial groove, used in climbing up the stalks of sea nected with the branchiae. weeds. The mouth is placed at the base of the ten(A.) Mouth furnished with corneous jaws. These jaws are in the form of narrow plates, which tacula, and surrounded with a semicircular lip. The cut the food by crossing each other like the blades tongue is in the form of a tubercle, with reflected points. The gullet is plaited longitudinally. The of a pair of scissars. (1.) Branchiae disposed along the back or sides, stomach is short and cylindrical, with a ring of hard longitudinal scales. The liver consists of six unand unconnected with membranaceous expansions, equal globules, and the bile is poured into the car(a.) Tentacula limited to two in number. Genus, Branchiae furnished with sheaths diac extremity of the gullet. The Scyllea pelagica has been long known to naturalists, and appears to at the base.

M O L L 576 Mollusca. be very common in the equatorial seas, adhering to the stems of the Fitcus natans. Genus, Glaucus.—Branchiae seated on the margin of the fins. Four simple tentacula. On each side of the body there are three or four membranaceous expansions, the margins of which are fringed with the simple branchial filaments. This genus was instituted by R. Forster, and the oldest known species, G. radiatus, is figured, Phil. Trans. Vol. LIU. Tab. iii. (B.) Mouth destitute of corneous jaws. Genus, Thethys Branchiae forming a row on each side the back, consisting of fringed processes, alternately larger and smaller. The T. Jimbria is the type of the genus, a figure of which, with its anatomical details, is given by M. Cuvier, in his Memoire sur le Genre Thethys. 2. Body concealed in a Spiral Shell. This section includes the genus Valvata of Muller, represented by two British species, V. cristata {Helix cristata of Montagu) and V. piscinulis {Turbo fontinalis). These resemble in aspect the aquatic pulmoniferous gasteropoda. The branchiae appear in the form of a feather, with a central stem, and a row of compound branches on each side, decreasing in size from the base to the free extremity. It issues from the neck near the middle, a short way behind the anterior tentacula. Near this plume, but towards the right side, is a single simple filament, like a tentaculum. The anterior tentacula occupy the usual position, are setaceous, and have the eyes placed at the base behind. The spiral shell is capable of containing the body, and the aperture can be closed by a spirally striated operculum attached to the foot. The internal structure is unknown. B. Branchiae issuing laterally from between the cloak and foot. This division includes the orders Cyclo-branchia and Infero-branchia of Cuvier, which we have ventured to bring together, as connected by the common character of the position of the gills. 1. Body protected dor sally by a shelly covering. Cyclobranchia. a. Shell simple. Genus, Patella—Shell entire. Mouth with tentacula. The species belonging to this genus are numerous, and appear to admit of distribution into sections; the first having the branchial circle complete, the second interrupted. b. Shell divided. Genus, Chiton.—Shell constituting a series of imbricated dorsal plates. The body is elliptical. The cloak is firm and cartilaginous, and variously marked on the margin. I he dorsal plates are arched, and occupy the middle and sides of the back, where they are implanted in the cloak, in an imbricated manner, the posterior margin of the first valve covering the anterior of the second. The foot is narrow. The mouth is sur-

U S C A. rounded with a semicircular curled membrane, and Mollusca. is destitute of tentacula. The anus consists of a s ^ ' short tube, placed at the posterior extremity of the cloak. Ihe external orifice of generation has not been detected. Genus, Chitonellus.—Dorsal plates not imbricated. In this genus, instituted by Lamarck {Hist. Nat. des Animaux sans Vertebres, Vol. VI. p. 316), the shells are slender, narrow, and are disposed longitudinally, and not in contact, along the middle of the back, leaving the sides of the cloak naked. Two species, C. Icevis and striatus, were brought from New* Holland, by Peron and Le Sueur. 2. Body naked.

Inferobranchia.

Genus, Phyllidia.—Anus placed dorsally near the extremity of the cloak. M. Cuvier has given descriptions of three from the tropical seas, which differ remarkably in the protuberances of the cloak. Genus, Diphyllidia—Anus placed on the right side. This genus was formed by M. Cuvier in his Regne Animal, Vol. III. p. 395, from an imperfectly investigated animal, in the cabinet of M. Brugmans at Leyden. The cloak is pointed behind, w ith a feeler and small tubercle on each side. 2. Tribe. Branchiae simple, and concealed when at rest under a lid. Tectibranchia of Cuvier. A. Head furnished with tentacula. 1. Tentacula four in number. a. Branchiae lateral. Genus, Aplysia—Branchiae with a corneous lid. The A. depilans, the type of the genus, is of frequent occurrence on the British shores. The A. punctata of Cuvier may be regarded merely as a variety. It is probably at this place where the genus Gasteroplax of Blainville, published by Lamarck, under the ill-judged title Umbrella {Hist. Nat. &c. Vol. VI. p. 339), should be introduced. The following is the extended character which he has communicated. “ Corpus valde crassum, obovatum, testa dorsali onustum; pede amplissimo, subtus piano, undique prominente, anterius sinu emarginato, postice attenuate. Caput non distinctum. Cavitas infundibuliformis in sinu antico pedis os in fundo recondens. Tentacula quatuor : superiora duo, crassa, brevia, truncata, hinc fissa, intus transversim sublamellosa ; altera duo, tenuia, cristata, pedicellata, ad oris latera. Branchiae foliaceae, serratim ordinatae, infra cutis marginem per totam longitudinem lateris dextri. Anus post extremitatem posticam branchiarum. “ Testa externa, orbicularis, subirregularis, planulata, superne convexiuscula, albida, versus medium mucrone apicicali brevissimo praebita; marginibus acutis: interna facie subconcava ; disco ealloso, colorato, ad centrum impresso, limbo laevi cincto.’’ Doubts seem to be entertained whether the shell is to be considered as belonging to the cloak or the foot. Two species are known.

M O L L U S C A. 1. Family, Aperture of the shell Mollusca. Mollusca. Genus, Notarchus.—Lid of the branchije soft. There is an oblique groove from the neck leading round or ovale. This family includes the greater number of the to the branchiae. The structure is similar to Aplysia. M. Cuvier instituted this genus in his Regne species of the Linnean genus Turbo. The genera into which it is now divided may be distributed into ,An. Vol. II. p. 395, and Vol. IV. Tab. xi. f. 1. two sections, from the residence of the animals. b. Branchiae terminal. Genus, Dolabella.—Dorsal plate a solid shell. 1. Section, Marine. 2. Tentacula tvoo in number. The marine turbonidae are of frequent occurrence, Genus, Pleurobranchus.—Cloak and foot expand- and compose the genera Turbo, Delphinula, Turried, between which, on the middle of the right side, tella, Scalaria, Odostomia, Monodonta, Phasianella, and Vermicularia. Some of the species are known the branchiae are placed. to be ovoviviparous, and it is probable that the same B. Head destitute of tentacula. kind of reproduction prevails in all of them. ReGenus, Bulla.—Body of the animal protected by markable differences may be observed in the form of a convoluted shell. the hood, the length of the peduncles supporting'the M. Lamarck is inclined to divide this genus into eyes, and the number and distribution of the filatwo, distinguishing those in which the shell is con- ments suiTounding the body. cealed, by the term Bullcea, from such as have the shell in part exposed, w’hich he retains in the genus 2. Section, Fluviatile. Bulla. The shells of the genus Bullaea are thin and fluviatile turbonidae are limited in their numwhite, as B. aperta ; those of Bulla stronger, more berThe both in regard to genera and species. The geopaque, and covered with an epidermis, which, after nera are only three, Ampullaria, Melania, and Paluthe death of the animal, is easily detached, as B. lig^ dina. In the last of these, including the Helix vivinaria. para and tentaculata, the sexes are distinct in difGenus, Doridium (of Mekel).—Destitute of a dor- ferent individuals. sal plate or shell. 2. Family, Neritadce.—Aperture semicircular, with There is a cavity in the cloak, with a spiral turn. an oblique straight pillar-lip. The branchiae and accompanying organs, are placed far behind. There is here no appearance of a spi1. Section, Marine. nous tongue ; the gullet is simple, and the stomach This includes the genera Nerita and Natica. is membranaceous. D. carnosum, a native of the Mediterranean, is the type of the genus. 2. Section, Fluviatile. II. Order. This contains only the genus Neritina, including BnANCHiiE Internal. Nerita fluvialilis of Linnaeus. 3. Family, Trochusidcc.—Aperture of the shell These aerating organs are contained in a cavity, subquadrangular. and appear in the form of sessile pectinated ridges. All the genera, including Trochus, Solarium, and 1. Subdivision. Pyramidella, are marine. The cloak on each side Heart entire, and detached from the rectum. is usually ornamented with three filaments. 2. Aperture of the shell exposed.—The foot destiThis group, forming the Pectinobranchia of Cutute of a lid. Marine. vier, includes nearly all the marine gasteropoda Genus, Janthina.—Foot with an adhering spongy which have spiral univalve shells. It likewise conbody. tains a few species which inhabit the fresh water. In this genus, repx*esented by the Helix Janthina 1. Tribe. of Linnaeus, the spongy body is capable of changing its dimensions, and enabling the animal to sink or Shell external. The shelly covering exhibits all the variations of rise in the water at pleasure. When irritated, it the spiral form. The internal structure has hitherto ejects a purple fluid from the cellular margin of the been in a great measure neglected, so that the cha- cloak above the gills, not unlike the Aplysia. Genus, Velutina.—Foot simple. racters, employed in the methodical distribution of This genus was formed by us for the reception of the species and genera, are derived from the shelly appendage of the cloak. The groups, therefore, are the Bulla velutina of Muller (Zcol. Ban. Tab. ci. f. 1,2, 3, 4), the Helix laevigata of British writers. merely artificial temporary combinations. B. Anterior margin of the aperture of the shell A. Aperture of the shell entire. canaliculated. As co-existent with this character of the shell, This groove in the aperture of the shell is prothe anterior margin of the cloak, at the entrance to duced by the anterior margin of the cloak being exthe branchial cavity, is found likewise to be entire. tended over the opening into the gills, for the pur1. Aperture of the shell closed bp a pedal lid, or pose of acting like a tube or syphon, in conveying operculum. the water to and from the branchial cavity. The The three following families appear to be the in- species are considered as oviparous, with distinct dications of as many natural groups, the genera of sexes in separate individuals. 1. Shell convoluted.—The shell has a lengthened which admit of still more minute arrangement.

578 MOLLUSC A. Mollusca. mouth parallel with its length. The whorls, which organs are unknown. The body is protected by a shell, Mollusca. are small segments of large circles, are wrapped round the aperture of which is wide, and never closed by3 the pillar, and rising little the one above the other, a lid. embrace or enclose the preceding ones. 1 he four 1. Tribe. following families appear to belong to this division. 1. Family, Conusidce.—Furnished with a long proShell ear-shaped, flat, with a lateral, and nearly boscis, and produced tentacula, with the eyes near concealed spire. the summit on the outside. The genera Conus and Family, Haliotidce, including the genera Haliotis, Terebellum form this family. Padola, and Stomatia. These genera exhibit well2. Family, Cypreadce.— Cloak enlarged, and ca- marked characters in the shell. The left margin of pable of folding over the shell. There is no lid. the shell in-Haliotis is pierced by a row of holes. The genus Cyprea is the type. In Padola, these holes are nearly obliterated; but 3. Family, Ovuladce.—Both extremities of the there is an internal groove and external ridge in the aperture canaliculated. The inhabitants of all the line of their direction. In Stomatia, there are neigenera, Ovula, Calpurna, and Volva, are unknown. ther holes nor ridges. The last genus includes the Bullapatula of Pennant. 4. Family, Volutadce.—Canal of the aperture ab2. Tribe. breviated. Pillar-lip plaited. The foot appears to be destitute of a lid. The genera are numerous. Shell conical, simple, or slightly revolute at the Voluta, Oliva, Cymbium, Marginella, Cancellaria, apex. Mitra, Ancilla, Volvaria, and Tornatella. The last A. Cavity of the shell interrupted by a testaceous genus contains the Vohda iornatilis of British writers. plate. This division consists of three genera, each 2. Shell turrited.—The whorls of the shell, the of which may be regarded as the type of a family, revolving spire of which is subconical, scarcely em- although, for the present, they all be included in brace one another, but are merely united at the one. margins. Three families may here be established. Family, Crepiduladce.—The marine genera are, 1. Family, Buccinidcc.—Canal short, scarcely pro- Crepidula and Calyptrea, the latter including the duced beyond the anterior margin of the lip, and Patella Chinensis of British writers. There is only bent towards the right. The tentacula are remote, one fluviatile genus, termed Navicella, and the head is destitute of a hood. The mouth B. Cavity of the shell entire. has a retractile proboscis. The following genera belong to this family: Buccinum, Eburna, Dolium, 1. Family, Capuluside—Shell entire. Harpa, Nassa, Purpura, Cassis, Morio, and Terebra. This includes the genera Capulus (containing 2. Family, Muricedce Canal produced, and Patella Hungarica and antiquata of British wristraight. The tentacula approach. The head and ters) and Carinaria, represented by the Argonauta mouth as in the preceding family. The genera are, vitria. Murex, Typhis, Itanella, Fusus, Pleurotoma, Pyrula, 2. Family, Fissurelladee—Shell with a slit, or Fasciolaria, and Turbinella. perforation. 3. Family, Cerithiadce.—Canal short and recurved. In the Fissurella, the apex of the shell is perforHead with a hood. This family contains the marine ated. In Emarginula, there is a slit in the anterior genus Cerithium, and the fluviatile one Potamidum. margin. 4. Family, Stromhusidceshort, and bent towards the right. The outer margin of the aperII. Division. ture becomes palmated with age, and exhibits a MOLLUSCA ACEPHALA. second canal, generally near the former, for the passage of the head. The following are the genera: Destitute of a distinct head or neck. Strombus, Pterocera, and Rostellaria. The animals of this division are much more sim2. Tribe. ple in their organization than those of the preceding division. In none of the species are there any Shell internal. This tribe consists at present of only one genus, rudiments of organs of hearing or of sight. They are termed Sigaretus, two species of which are natives destitute of jaws or other hard parts about the mouth. They all inhabit the water, and possess branchiae. of Britain. The organs of the two sexes are incorporated in the 2* Subdivision. same individual, and reciprocal union is unnecessary. They are either oviparous or ovoviviparous. The Heart traversed by the rectum. presence or absence of a shelly covering furnish This group includes the order Scutibranchia of characters for a twofold distribution of the groups. Cuvier. In general form, and in structure and position of the branchiae, the resemblance is very 1. Section. close to the genera of the preceding subdivision. They differ, however, in many particulars. The Acephala Conchifera. art is furnished with two auricles, and is perforated by the intestine. The sexes appear to be incorThe shell, which in all cases is external, is bivalve, porated in the same individual, or rather the male and exhibits very remarkable differences in the form 4

M O L L Mollusca. relative size, and connection of the valves. The cloak is likewise in the form of two leaves, corresponding with the valves which protect it. 1. Order. Brachiopoda. Mouth with a spiral arm on each side fringed with filaments. f The genera included in this group constitute the Brachiopoda of Cuvier. The lobes of the cloak are free anteriorly. From the body, between the lobes, the arms have their origin, at the margin of the mouth. These arms are capable of folding up spirally. All the species are permanently attached to foreign bodies, and inhabit the sea. Their nervous and reproductive systems have received but little elucidation. 1. Subdivision. Shell supported on a fleshy peduncle. Genus, Lingula.—Valves equal, the apex of both attached to the peduncle. The peduncle is nearly cylindrical, cartilaginous, and covered with a membrane consisting of circular fibres. The valves are oval, flat, and destitute of teeth, or elastic ligaments. The adductor muscles are numerous, obliquely placed, and appear capable of giving to the valves a considerable degree of lateral motion. The cloak is thin, and has interspersed muscular fibres. Its margin is thickened, and fringed with fine hairs of nearly equal length. The Lingula unguis is the only known species, the structure of which has been developed by Cuvier. Genus, Terebraiula Valves unequal, the peduncle passing through an aperture in the largest valve. The arms are shorter than those of the Lingula, and are said to be forked. They are supported within by numerous arcuated plates. M. Lamarck divides the recent kinds into two sections. 1. Shell smooth, or destitute of longitudinal ribs. The T. cranium, a native of the Zetland seas, may be quoted as an example. The peduncle is simple. 2. Shell ribbed longitudinally. The T. aurita, which inhabits Loch Broom, is another, though recently discovered, British example. The larger valve is broadest in the middle, semicircular in front, and narrowing towards the apex, in consequence of the sides being compressed or bent inwards. The ribs from the beak towards the anterior margin are the most distinct, rounded, and about eight in number , those towards the sides are obsolete. The under valve is nearly orbicular, with the margin at the hinge truncated, or rather obtusely angular, and having the sides depressed, and forming small auricles, as in the genus Pecten, but not produced. The ribs are obsoletely wrinkled across, and the margin is waved by the ribs being concave internally. Ihe inner surface of both valves, especially the largest, is finely punctulated. The hinge is formed by a projection on each side, the proximal margin of the perforation in the large valve entering corresponding depressions in the smaller one. The margin of the perforation itself is completed by the application of the smaller valve. The peduncle is short, and consists of numerous unVOL. V. PART II.

U S C A.

579 equal-sized tubular threads, attached by a complicat- Mollusca. ed tendino-muscular apparatus, chiefly to the larger valve. The spiral arms seemed to have simple summits, and to be destitute of testaceous plates. The smallness and probable youth of the subject, however, rendered minute examination of the structure impracticable. Trawled up in Loch Broom, near the harbour of Stornoway, Kith August 1821. This species approaches nearest to the T. truncata. The fossil species of this genus are numerous, and occur in the older and newer of the floetz formations. I hey furnish obvious characters for the construction, of many genera, some of which have been already established. 2. Subdivision. Shell sessile. Genus, Crfopws.—Under valve cemented to stones. The under valve is membranaceous, flat, and adhering ; the upper is flatly conical, and resembles a patella, in which genus, from neglecting the structure of the animal, it has usually been placed. The C. anomalus, Patella anomala oi Muller, Zool. Dan. Tab. v. f. 1, 8, has a branched double ovarium, with round eggs. It has been described and figured as a native of the Zetland seas, under the term Patella distorta, in Edin. Encyclopcedia, Vol. VII. p.6’5, Tab. cciv. f. 4; and Lin. Trans. Vol. XI. p. 195, Tab. xiii. f. 5. II. Order. Bivalvia. Mouth destitute of fringed spiral arms. The animals of this group form the class Coachifera of Lamarck, the Bivalvia of the older naturalists. The shells exhibit great variety of form and relative size. They are joined together at the hinge, which is either plain or toothed, and corresponds in position with the back of the animal. The connection of the two valves is secured by the intervention of an elastic horny ligament, the office of which is to keep the valves open. It is either external or internal. The valves are closed by means of adductor muscles, intermixed with tendons, and, passing transversely through the animal, adhere to the corresponding places in the inside of each shell. By the contractions of these muscles the free edges of the valves are brought into contact, at the same time that the ligament is compressed or stretched, according as it is internal or external. The number of muscular impressions is employed by Lamarck in the division of the Bivalvia into two orders, Dimyaires and Monomyaires. This distinction, however, he has not attended to with care, as in his family Mytilacees, which he includes in his second order, or those having one adductor muscle, there are obviously two adductor muscles, although the one is certainly much larger and more complicated than the other. Besides these impressions of the adductor muscles, there are others connected with the foot and byssus. The cloak lines the inside of the shells. In some cases it is entirely open, when the border corresponding with the free margin of the shell is thickened, and more or 1 fringed with contractile irritable filaments. In other cases the cloak in front is more or less united, and 4E

580 M O L L Mollusca. even forms tubular elongations, which are termed syphons. Locomotion is denied to many species of this order. Among these some are immoveably cemented to rocks and stones, as oysters ; a few are attached by a cartilaginous ligament, as the Anomice ; while others are fixed by means of a byssus. This last organ consists of numerous filaments issuing from a complicated apparatus in the breast, connected with a secreting gland and with the shell by the intervention of tendinous bands. The Jbot is seated a little towards the mouth, is usually tongue-shaped, capable of considerable elongation, with a furrow on its posterior surface. This organ, where a byssus is present, is considered as employed in opening and fixing the threads. When there is no byssus, it either acts as a sucker, enabling the animal to crawl among the surface of bodies, or as a paw, to dig holes in the sand or mud. None of the species can float in the water. They either crawl or leap, the last kind of motion being effected by suddenly opening and shutting the valves. In securing a residence, some of the species bore into different substances by means of a rotatory motion of the shell. It was at one time supposed that the dwelling was formed by a secretion affecting the solution of the surrounding substance. But the very different substances penetrated by the same species, as limestone, slate-clay, and wood, forbid us to entertain such a supposition. The nervous system is here but little developed. The superior and inferior ganglia, surrounding the gullet, give rise to all the nervous filaments which proceed through the body. The digestive organs are scarcely less simple. The food is soft and swallowed entire, and either brought to the mouth by accident, or by eddies produced in the water, by the opening and shutting of the shells, aided in some cases by the syphons. It may be proper here to state, in order to understand the relative situation of the parts, that, upon laying the animal upon its back, and opening the cloak, the abdomen appears to occupy the middle longitudinally, and the branchia to be arranged on each side. The mouth is situated at the anterior extremity, and consists of a simple aperture entering into the gullet, or rather stomach. It is surrounded by four flattened moveable tentacula, two of which in some are in part united with the cloak, while in others they are free to the base. In their structure they resemble the branch!®. The stomach is full of cells, the bottom of each pierced with a biliary duct. A singular organ, termed the crystalline process, cylindrical, cartilaginous, and transparent, is "found in some species projecting into the cavity of the stomach. The liver is large, surrounds the stomach, and pours out its contents by numerous openings. The intestine terminates posteriorly by a tubular anus. The branchi® consist of two ribbands on each side, extending the length of the body, free on the sides and margin, and striated transversely. These plates are frequently of unequal size. The blood is brought to these by means of pulmonic veins, without the intervention of the heart. The aerated blood is transmitted to a systemic heart, consisting of one or two auricles, and a ventricle. The reproductive organs of the Bivalvia, hitherto

U S C A. examined, consist of an ovarium occupying the sides MoIIusm. of the body, and penetrating the membranes of the cloak. 1 hey appear to have the organs of both sexes incorporated, and to propagate without intercourse. Lamarck isdisposed to consider impregnation produced by the male fluid dispersed through the water; a supposition unsupported even by analogy in the animal kingdom. Many species are ovoviviparous ; in which case the eggs when ripe pass into the gills, where they J are hatched. The methodical distribution of the Bivalvia appears to be attended with peculiar difficulties, in consequence of the uniformity which prevails in the structure and disposition of their organs. The characters furnished by the shell, though useful in the construction of generic as well as specific distinctions, have been abandoned by those who prefer a knowledge of the structure, rather than the form of an animal. The characters derived from the presence of a byssus, a foot, or syphons, appear to be nearly of co-ordinate importance. M. Cuvier gives the preference to those founded on the appearances of the latter, and distributes the genera into five families, an arrangement which we here propose to follow. These, however, may be considered as occupying a much higher rank, and each as including numerous families. 1. Subdivision. Cloak open. There are no syphons, the anterior margin of the cloak being as open as the mouth of the shell. When the valves open, the water comes immediately in contact with the branchi® and mouth. The margin of the mantle has a double fringe of filaments. 1. Tribe. Valves closed by one adductor muscle. A. Pectenidce. Animals free or fixed only by a byssus. Furnished with afoot. Into this family, contemplated by Lamarck, the following ill assorted genera may be placed: Pecten, Lima, Pedum, Plicatula, Vulsella, Placuna, Gryphsa, Perna, and Crenatula. B. Ostreadce. Shell cemented to foreign bodies. Body destitute of a foot. To this family the following genera are related : Ostrea, Spondylus, and Anomia. The last genus ought to form a family apart. 2. Tribe. Shell closed by two adductor muscles. The two genera, Avicula and Meleagrina (of Lamarck), form one family of this tribe; the genus Pinna another; and the Arcad® a third, including Area, Pectunculus, Nucula, Cucull®a, Trigonia, and Castalia. 2. Subdivisioti. Cloak more or less closed, forming syphons. The further division of this group depends on the modifications of the syphons, or aperture of the cloak. 1. Tribe. The union of the cloak forming only one syphon. This is situate posteriorly opposite the anus, and serves for the purpose of the excrements. The other 12

M 0 L L Mollusca. large opening allows the water to enter to the mouth and gills. This tribe maybe divided into two families. The first, Mytilusidce, will include the genera Mytilus, Modiolus, and Lithodomus, which are furnished with a byssus. The second, Uniodce, will embrace Unio, Ilyina, Anodonta, and Iridina. They want a byssus. M. Cuvier is disposed to place in this group the genera Cardita, Venericardia, and Crassatella. 2. Tribe. Cloak closed posteriorly^ and anteriorly forming three apertures. The first serves for the passage of the byssus, and is the largest. Tlie second admits water to the branchise and mouth : and the third is opposite the anus The vahes are closed by one adductor muscle. There are only two genera belonging to this tribe, Tridacna and Ilippopus. In the two remaining tribes there are three openings in the cloak. Two of these are posterior, and near each other; sometimes, indeed, they are tubular and united. There is no byssus, but always a foot. 3. Tribe. Anterior opening large, allowing the water free access to the mouth and gills, and the feet freedom of motion. The structure of the animals is yet too imperfectly examined, to enable any one to establish families on permanent characters. The attempt which Lamarck has made may be considered as a complete failure, independent of the wanton changes of nomenclatuie with which it is chargeable. The following are the principal genera belonging to this tribe: Chama, Isocardia, Cardium, Donax, Cyclas, Corbis, Tellina, Loripes, Lucina, Venus, Capsa, Petricola, Corbula, and Mactra. 4. Tribe. Anterior opening small, and not exposing the mouth or gills. In this tribe the mantle is closed in front; and even when the valves are open, neither mouth nor gills are visible. The anterior opening serves for a passage to the foot, and the posterior openings, in the form of two long tubes, united by a common membrane, serve for the entrance and exit of the water to the mouth and branchiae, and the ejection of the fceces, the dorsal syphon serving the latter purpose. The cuticle of the shell covers also the exposed portion of the cloak, so that, when the animal is removed from the shell, it remains as a loose membrane on the margin of the valves, as was first observed by Reaumur. All the genera prefer concealment, burrowing in sand, mud, or wood, with the head downwards, and the syphons rising to the surface. The following genera belong to this tribe: Mya, Lutraria, Anatina, Glycemeris, Panopea, Pandora, Gastrochena, Byssomia, Hiatella, Solen, Sanguinolaria, Pholas, Teredo, and listularia. II. Section. ACEPHALA TUNICATA. Covering soft or coriaceous.1 The formation of this interesting group of animals

U S C A. 581 was first publicly announced by Lamarck in his His* Mollusca. toire Naturelle des Animaux sans Vertebres, Tom. III. p. 80 (1816). The labours of Desmaret, Lesueur, and Cuvier, aided by the descriptions of Ellis and Pallas, paved the way for the masterly efforts of Savigny, to whom we owe the most extensive, new, and accurate information yet given concerning the animals of this group. His observations are contained in his Recherches Anatomiques sur les Ascidies composees, et sur les Ascidies simples, inserted in his Memoires sur les Animaux sans Vertebres. 8vo. Paris, 1816. The covering of the animals of this group consists of an external and internal sac or tunic, which are either entirely united or unconnected, except at the aperlures. The surface is smooth in some, and rough in others, and in a few species defended by an artificial covering of agglutinated shells and sand. The sacs are furnished with muscular bands, and are capable of contraction. Some of the species, by means of contractile movements, float about in the water; others, receiving that element into the branchial cavity, and ejecting it forcibly at the opposite one, push themselves forward. Many, however, are fixed during life to seaweeds and stones. The apertures of the tunic are two in number, unless in the doubtful genus Mammaria. The one, frequently the largest, is destined for receiving the water into the cavity to supply the mouth and gills. This is termed the branchial cavity. The other is destined for the exit of the water, the eggs, and the foeces, and termed the anal opening. These apertures are sometimes placed near each other, at other limes at opposite extremities of the body, and variously provided with tentacula or valves. The mouth is simple, destitute of spiral arms, and opening in the interior of the cavity of the body between the branchiae, as in the other Acephala. It possesses neither jaws nor tentacula. The alimentary canal is very simple, and can scarcely.be distinguished into gullet, stomach, and intestine. The food is soft, and such as the bounty of the waves bestows.. The liver adheres to the stomach, and in many species is divided into distinct lobes. The circulating system appears to be reduced to a single systemic ventricle. The gills cover the walls of the cavity, in the form of ridges, more or less complicated, and seldom symmetrical. The reproductive organs consist of an ovarium, either simple or complicated, with some additional glands, the uses of which have not been ascertained. They are considered as hermaphrodite, and independent of reciprocal impregnation. They appear not only to be oviparous, but to be gemmiparous and compound, many individuals being organically connected, and capable of simultaneous movements. They are all inhabitants of the sea. 1. Subdivision. Interior tunic detached from the external one, and united only at the two orifices. The branchiae are large, equal, and spread on the central walls of the inner sac. The branchial orifice has an inner membranaceous denticulated ring, or a. circle of tentacula.

582 Mollusca.

M O L L U S C A. i# Tribe. of longitudinal folds. The tentacular filaments of MoHusca. the branchial circle are simple. Liver indistinct. Body permanently fixed to other bodies. Ovarium single. In this tribe the branchial and anal orifices are a. Body pedunculated. not opposite each other, and do not communicate The stalk is here placed at the base, and serves through the branchial cavity. This cavity at its to support the body, being of an opposite character opening is furnished with tentacular filaments. The from that of the Boltenia. branchiae are conjoined anteriorly. Genus, Clavelina—Branchial and anal orifices A. Simple. without rays. Angles of the branchial meshes simple. This division includes the genus Ascidia of Lin- Intestine destitute of a rib. The Ascidia clavata of naeus. The individuals are independent of each Pallas, and the A. lepadformis of Muller, belong to other, and although they frequently adheret ogether this genus; the latter of these is now recorded as a in clusters, they are destitute of a common covering, British species. or organical connection. b. Body sessile. The branchial orifice with eight or nine rays, and 1. Apertures furnished ivith four rays. the anal with six. The angles of the branchial The animals of this group have the external tunic meshes with papillae. No liver. A cylindrical rib coriaceous, dry, opaque, rough, folded, and frequent- extending from the pylorus to the anus. ly covered with extraneous bodies, or inclosing such. (A.) Tunic and branchial cavity straight. The branchial orifice has four rays, the anal one the Genus, Pirena—The branchial sac as extended same, or divided transversely. The branchiae are as the tunic. Stomach not resting on the intestine. divided longitudinally into persistent regular deep P. phusca of Forskael is the type, to which Savigny folds. has added three other species. The Ascidia prua. Body pedunculated. num of Muller, a native species, is probably of this I he peduncle, in this division, may be said to have genus. its rise in the summit of the body, which it serves to Genus, Ciona.—Branchial sac shorter than the suspend. rihe abdomen is lateral. The meshes of tunic, and exceeded by the viscera. C. Ascidia inthe branchiae are destitute of papillae. testmalis, Lin. is a native example of this genus. Genus, Boltenia.—The tentacular filaments of the (B.) Tunic turned up at the base. branchial circle are compound. There is no liver, Genus, Phallusia.—Branchial sac extending beand the ovarium is compound. Only one species is yond the viscera into the pouch of the sac. Stomach known, B. fusij'orme. Savigny, Mem. Tab. i. f. 1. resting on the mass of viscera. The Ascidia mentida and lab. v. f. 5. It is the Vorticella Bolteni of Lin. of Muller, a native species, is the type. and the Ascidia clavata of Shaw. There are two genera supposed to be nearly reb. Body sessile. lated to the preceding, which are involved in great M. Savigny describes this group as a genus, which obscurity. The genus Bipapilaria of Lamarck aphe terms Cynthia, v/hich he divides into four sub- pears to be pedunculated, with two apertures, each genera. furnished with three setaceous tentacula. The Mam(A.) Tentacular filaments of the branchial orifice maria of Muller has only one terminal aperture. One compound. The folds of the branchiae more than species inhabits the British seas. eight in number. The liver distinct, and surroundB. Compound. ing the stomach. Ovarium divided, with one diviThe animals included under this division were forsion at least on each side the body. The intestine merly included in the genus Alcyonium of Linnaeus, destitute of a rib. and placed among the Zoophytes. They are comGenus, Cynthia.—Meshes of the branchiae un- pound animals, many individuals united by a comchanged by the folds. C. Momtis. Sav. Tab. i. f. 2. mon integument, and arranged according to a uniGenus, C^mYa.——Meshes of the branchiae inter- form plan. rupted by the folds. C. Diona of Sav. Tab. vii. f. 1. In some cases, there is only one system of indiThe Ascidia quadridentata of Forskael. viduals in the mass, in other cases, there are many, (B.) Tentacular filaments of the branchial orifice similarly arranged and contiguous. The tentacular simple. The folds of the branchiae eight in number, filaments of the branchiae appear to be distinct. four on each side, and the meshes uninterrupted They are destitute of the intestinal rib which occurs Intestine strengthened by a cylindrical rib from the in some of the preceding genera. pylorus to the anus. Liver absent or indistinct. Genus, Styela.—Ovarium divided, one division at 1. Branchial Orifice Radiated. least on each side. £. Canopus. Sav. Tab. viii. f. 1. a. Branchial and anal orifices, with six rays. Genus, Pandocia.—Ovarium single, and situate in the fold of the intestine. The Ascidia conchilega, (A.) Body sessile. The angles of the branchial a native species, is the type. meshes furnished with papillae. The thorax, or cavity containing the branchiae, cylindrical. The ab2. Apertures with indistinct rays, or more than four. domen is inferior, with a stalk. Ovarium sessile, The external tunic is here soft, easily cut, and and single. translucent. The rays (when existing) of the branGenus, Diazona.—Body orbicular, with a single chial orifice amount to eight or nine; and those of system of animals disposed in concentric circles. the anal to six at least. The branchiae are destitute The substance is gelatinous. The ovarium en-

MOLL U S C A. Mollusca. closed in the fold of the intestine. Z). violacea of Sav. Tab. ii. f. 3. Genus, Poly zona Body polymorphous, with many systems disposed subcircularly. The body is subcartilaginous. The individuals are disposed irregularly around the common centre. Savigny inadvertently termed this genus Distoma, a name long precopied among the Intestina. The Alcyonium rubrum of Plancus, and the Distomus variolosus of Gaertner, belong to this genus. The last is a native species. (B.) Body pedunculated. Genus, Sigillina.—Body a solid cone, consisting of a single system of many individuals, irregularly disposed, one above the other. The thorax is short, and hemispherical. The angles of the branchial meshes destitute of papillae. The abdomen is inferior, sessile, and larger than the thorax. The single ovarium is pedunculated. S. australis, Sav. Tab. iii. f. 2. brought from New Holland, by M. Peron, is the only known species. b. Branchial orifice only furnished with six rays. (A.) Body pedunculated. System single, circular, and terminal. Genus, Synoicum.—Anal orifice rayed. The body is cylindrical. The anal orifice has six very unequal rays; the three largest forming the exterior margin of the central star. The stomach is simple. The angles of the branchial meshes destitute of papillae. Ovarium single, sessile attached to the bottom of the abdomen, and descending perpendicularly. The S. turgens of Phipps is the type. In the month of August 1817, we observed at the Isle of May another species, adhering to a rock, and differing from the turgens chiefly in the smoothness of its skin. Genus, Sydneum—Anal orifice simple and tubular. The body is inversely conical. The stomach surrounded with glands. Intestine spirally folded. Ovarium pedunculated. The S. turbinatum is the only known species, and was sent to Savigny by Leach from the British seas. (B.) Body sessile, polymorphous. (a.) Each system with a central cavity. Genus, Polyclinum—Systems numerous, convex stellular. Individuals arranged irregularly round the common centre. Abdomen inferior pedunculated, and less than the thorax. Ovarium single, pedunculated, and attached to the side of the abdominal cavity, and drooping. M. Savigny describes one species from the Mauritius, and five from the Gulf of Suez. (b.) Systems destitute of central cavity, and the angles of the branchial meshes without papillae. Genus, Alpidium.—Individuals in a single row round the common centre. , t The thorax is cylindrical. The abdomen infenor sessile, and of the size of the thorax. Ovarium single, sessile, placed at the bottom of the abdomen, and prolonged perpendicularly. Savigny divides the genus into two tribes. In the first, the indiviuua s are simply oblong, with an ovarium shorter than the body, as A.Jicus {Alcyoniumjicus, Linn.). In the

583

second, the individuals are filiform, with an ovarium Mollusca. longer than the body, as A. ejfusum of Savigny, Tab. xvi. f. 3. Genus, Didemnum.—Individuals in indistinct systems. The thorax is short and subglobular. The abdomen inferior, pedunculated, and larger than the thorax. The anal opening is obscure. The ovarium is single, sessile, and placed on the side of the abdomen. D. candidum and viscosum, from the Gulf of Suez, are the only known species. 2. Branchial Orifice simple. The species form a thin fleshy crust on stones and sea-weeds. The individuals are stellularly arranged in distinct systems. The branchial orifice is circular and undivided. The abdomen is sublateral, and fixed at the bottom of the branchial cavity. The intestine is small, and the anus indistinct. The angles of the branchial meshes are without papillae. Genus, Botrxjllus—Systems furnished with a central cavity. The systems are prominent, and consist of one or more regular concentric rows. The ovarium is double, being attached to each side of the branchial sac. This genus is subdivided by Savigny into Botrylli stellati, and Botrylli conglomerati. In the first, where the individuals are distributed in a single row, there are some species in which the individuals are cylindrical with approaching orifices, and the limb of the central cavity not apparent after death and probably short, as the B. rosacius Leachii and Borlassii. In other species, the individuals are ovoid, with remote orifices, and the limb of the central cavity is always apparent and notched, as B. Schlosseri, stellatus, gemmerus, and minutus. In the Botrylli conglomerati, in which the individuals are disposed in several rows, there is only one species, B. conglomeratus. Genus, Euccelium.—Systems destitute of a central cavity. The individuals are distributed in a single row, and the ovarium is single, sessile, and attached to the side of the abdominal cavity. The E. hospitiolum of Sav. Tab. iv. f. 4, is the only known species. 2. Tribe. Body free, and moving about in the water. Genus, Pyrosoma. The body is gelatinous, in the form of a lengthened bag open at the widest end. The individuals are arranged perpendicularly to the axis of the central cavity, super-imposed on one another. The branchial orifice is external, without rays, and with an appendage over its upper margin. The anal orifice is opposite, and terminates in the central cavity. Branchial sac destitute of folds, with a membranaceous ring at the entry. The branchiae are disjoined. The abdomen is inferior to the branchiae, and not separated by any contraction. Liver distinct, globular, and retained in a fold of the intestine. Ovarium double, opposite, and situate at the upper extremity of the branchial cavity. M. Savigny divides the species into Pyrosomata

584 • M O L L U S C A. Mollusca. verticilla, having the individuals arranged in regular form chains and circles. But the fully grown indi- Molluscs, —^ prominent rings, as P. elegans of Lesueur; and Py- viduals are always detached and single. rosomata paniculata, having the individuals forming This subdivision comprehends the species of the irregular circles unequally prominent, as P. gigan- genus Salpa; they are exceedingly numerous, and teum and Allanlicum. appear to belong to many different genera. M. Cuvier has given indications of some of these, chiefly 2. Subdivision. derived from the shape. A few are furnished with Inner tunic adhering throughout to the external an elevated crest or fin, as the Thalia of Brown ; a one. few have both extremities rounded or truncated as The body is gelatinous, transparent, and simple. Salpa octofera of Cuvier; others have one extremity The branchial cavity is open at both ends, communi- produced, as Holothuria zonaria of Gmelin ; and cating freely with the anus. The branchial orifice is in even both extremities- produced, as Salpa waxitna the form of a transverse slit, with one edge in the form of Forskael. The Salpa moniliformis, so common in of a valve, to accelerate the entrance of the water the Hebrides, and first recorded as a native by Dr into the cavity. The inner tunic is strengthened by Macculloch,in his valuable Description of the Western numerous transverse muscular bands, which, by con- Isles, Vol. II. p. 188, and imperfectly figured in its tracting, diminish the diameter of the cavity, and young state, at lab. xxix. fig. 2, appears to be closeeject the water from the anal orifice, thereby pro- ly allied to the S. maxima of Forskael, and but very pelling the body through the water. The digestive remotely with the S. polycratica and conjederata with organs are situate at the inner end of the cavity. which it is compared. This observer states, that The mouth and rectum are simple; the former It cannot bear to be confined in a l.mited portion placed between the two branchiae, the latter direct- of water, as it died even in a ship’s bucket in less ed towards the anal orifice. The heart is contigu- than half an hour.” With us, in similar circumstanous to the stomach, at the bottom of what may be ces, those taken in the evening were alive at noon termed the branchial sac, and is enveloped in a mem- on the following day. branaceous pericardium. The branchiae are double, The preparation of molluscous animals for exhibinot incorporated with the walls of the sac, but with tion in a museum is attended with peculiar difficulty. two folds of unequal length. The largest is free in The shells, indeed, need only to be cleaned with a the middle, fixed at each extremity, and opposed to soft brush, and the marine kinds to be steeped in the dorsal groove, and traverses the cavity obliquely. fresh water to extract all the saline ingredients, and The other extends from the base of the first to the dried, when they are fit for the cabinet. The soft extremity of the dorsal groove. The surface of the parts, however, can seldom be distended by any branchiae consists of transverse vessels in a single substance, and dried. They are usually, therefore, range in some species, and a double range in others. preserved in spirits of wine, where but too frequentWhen young, many individuals often adhere, and ly they appear a shapeless mass. (q. q.)

TABLE OF THE ARTICLES AND TREATISES CONTAINED IN THIS VOLUME.

jn UNGARY.

Kilkenny.

Huntingdonshire.

Kincardineshire.

Hydraulics.

King’s County.

Jains. Jauts.

Kinross-shire. Kirkcudbrightshire.

Java.

Klinometer.

Improvisatori. India.

(See Italy.)

Ingenhousz (John). Insecta. Interest. Inverness-shire. Joinery.

Kookies, or Lunctas. Laccadives. Lagrange (Joseph Lewis). Lalande (J. J. De). Lambert (John Henry). Lamps. Lanarkshire.

Ireland.

Lancashire. Languages.

Iron-making.

Leicestershire.

Italy. Jurisprudence.

Leitrim. Lemonnier (Peter C. C.)

Jussieu (Antoine De).

Lewis.

Ionian Islands.

(Bernard De).

Leyden (John).

Kaleidoscope.

Liberty of the Press.

Kant (Immanuel).

Life Preservers. Limerick.

Kent. Kentucky.

(See United States.)

Lincolnshire.

Kerguelen’s Land.

Linlithgowshire.

Kerry.

Lithography,

Kildare.

London.

(See Preservers.)

Londonderry. Longford.

Messier (Charles).

Louisiana.

Meteorology. Mexico, or New Spain.

Louth.

Middlesexshire.

Luc (John A. De).

Mineralogy. Mollusca.

Luci meter. Lus. Malus (Stephen Lewis).

Monaghan. Money.

Malwah.

Monmouthshi ue.

Marmontel (John F.).

Montgomeryshire. Moore (John, M.D.).

Maskelyne (Nevil). Mason (Charles).

Morayshire.

Mauritius. Mayo.

Mueller (Joh. Von).

Meath.

Mutis (Joseph Celestino).

Mechain (Peter F. A.).

Mysore.

Merionethshire.

Mortality, Human, Law of.

ERRATA. VOLUME FOURTH. 55, for “ Unterthaner,” read