/ Sigh, j As a ENGRAVED FoR THE BEE. LORD MILTON. Published by JS. Anderron st leplr 794 = Rm THE: BEEF, OR LITERARY wee = af INTELLIGENCER, "CONSISTING OF + ORIGINAL FIEC 8S AND SELECTIONS FROM PERFORMANCES MERIT, FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC, *A WORK CALCY JATED TO’ DISSEMINATE Ls WuUL KNOWLEDGE AMONG ALL RANKS OF PEOPLE AT & SMALL EXPENCE, RY JAMES ANDERSON, -L L-D. F2RS. FAS. s. ® Honorary Member of the Society of Arts, Agriculture, &c. at Batu; of the ~~ Philosophical, and of the Agricultural Societies in MANCHESTER 3 of the te Society for promoting Natural F iory, LONDON ; of the Academy of Arts, | $ Sciences, and Belles Lettres, Dijon 3 and correspondent Member of the of agriculture, Paris ; ‘Author of several Performances. VOLUME ELEVENTH. APIS MATIN#Z MORE MODOQUE. ‘Horace. ‘EDINBURGH : SO PRINTED FORTHE EDITOR, ~ () M,DCC;XCIIL—VOL, ¥. : : PAGE KETCH of the life of lord Mil- Onthe viper, - - Discoveries in the interior parts OU Tb em ens) tS LEO eral reflections, - - - 22 n’ inquiry into the effect that the salt laws produce in the revenue of Scotland, - ‘= 26 Notices of improvements going oninIndiaa - - ~ - 35 40 correspondents, - 4 - 40 ceount of the tiger, with a cut, ri- - = - 12 ints respecting the Chinese language, - - - = ~- SS ee in fhooting pigeons, - - etached remarks by Mira, - 61 from a celebrated author, 64 houghts on the production of ew improvement in the iron manufacture, - - - ~ 6 oticesofimprovementsinIn- - dia, - - - - 70 plan for the relief of the in- digent blind, -~ -~ . 78 O correspondents, - 8e ccount of the society of Ar- / cadia at Rome, by abbé ers a ie a. By ints respecting the generation _of certain kinds of fithes, - 89 Walbaum, - - _ ©_ fsay on the influence of taste on domestic and social life, 113 120 131 ton, witha portrait, - - 1 Se ees: gk Sas ¥ & in taste in architecture, = - 5 3 5 nitre, - - - - 67 | tter from Isabella to Albert, ib, | CONTENTS oF VotumE ELEVENTH. ee PAGE Description of Inch Colm, with aplate, - - SIS LeIgy On the Crinan canal, ~ - 141 Love and joy, atale,- ~ 144 New invented improvements en machinery, - - . - 146 Agriculture.—Comparative tri-’ al of different kinds of oats, 148 Experiments on gypsum, - 149 Sheep fed on the leaves of trees, 150 Ahintforthe Bee, - ~ 1st To correspondents = - x 52 Account of the cur fox, with SCHR ~4=% | Sh, ota as Qn the influence of taste on domestic and social life, - 1 56 Disquisitions on animal nu- frifionys. +0). oe aes 168 Letter from. mifs Henrietta Rhodes on rearing silk WOSTDSy = = (aha SE Ral aT E Observations suggested by oF AUEOs |. m= P=) i ons cute 173 Anecdote of a monk, - - 184 Notices of improvements go- ; ingon in India, - - . 187 To correspondents, - - = 192 Grammatical disquisitions, = 193 An efsay on the effects of wa- ter on machinery, - ~ 204 Copy of a singular letter, - 210 Review.—Political progrefs of Britain, - -~ ~~ -l212 Notices of Billings’s discove- ries in the northera archi- DEL az OS iets: py age) 5 Efsay on the influence oftaste on the happinefs. and glory Of nations, -) = .°. 2 226 Account of the society of Ar- cadia byabbe Tourner, - 223 Grammatical disquisitions, — on the pronoun of the third person, - . - = 249 An efsay on the effects of wa- ter on machinery, ~ 252 { Detached remark, ~ = « 257 Si _ contents. PAGE | PAGE “Onanew kind of fence, - 260 |-Particulars respecting Sardinia, 32% To Correspondents, - - ~ 264 Anecdote of the baron Hegiy --331 An account of the ouistiti, Extracts from Sir J. Sinclair’s with acut, -' - + = -264 statistics, concerning re- ~ Grammatical disquisitions,— markable trees in Scotland, 332 5 ‘Charade by C. J. Fox, ad~- drefsed to lady Spencer, - 334 | Queries concernurg-fruit trees, - ib. on the pronoun of the third person, - - = - > ~.266 From Isabella to Albert, letter second, = - - =~ = 274 { On manures, = = 335 Efsay on popularity, = = 280 ———————————XaX—a—X—seueces Remarks .on T. Thunder- PoETRY. proofs efsays, + - = 294 A singular phenomenon res- pecting acaterpillar, - +287 ong-—respecting snails, - - 291 Take tent and be wary, a Scots J SORES hers et sm aie gb 0! "ea Pompey’s ghost, - -= = 25 The mourning mother, - - 6 Notices of improvements go- Epitaph on lady Ab-r-g-y, - - 6 , ingon in India, = = = 295 | Frenchepigram, - - - ib, Providential deliverance, = 297 | King’s birth day at Avonfield 105 )Indian- magnanimity, -<- = 299 A fragment, © a A ~ 70% Picture of a court drawn from Tinder and fire. Addrefsed to i . the life, - - «= 300 young ladies, - - - 1 -On ambition, - = = - 308 | Oncharity, - - - - = Fig ‘Plan of Switzerland in relief, - 302 To.correspondents,- -- = - 303 An account of the polar, sor | great whitebear, - - - 305 ‘An efsay-fhowing how taste exalts the pleasure of rural . life, dedicated tothe me- « mory of R. Adam archi- , tect, - - = = = = “308 The effects of water on ma-— : chimeryy - - - = = 314 Extracts from White’s natural history of the viper, - - 320 “Letter to D. Barrington con- «_ cerning ditto, - - - 421 *Extracts from Pennant’s zoo- Gleanings of ancient poetry.— On steep, by Drummond of Hathornden, 1616, - - -14@ | Sonntt, = "ante “185 | Verses forthenonsensical club, ib. | Gleanings of ancient poetry.— Against foreign luxury, by W. Brown, -.- --- 186 ‘Leve and Reputation, a fable, 22% |) Ode of Hafez, translated by Sir W. Jones, “- - - 28 The Laplander, by Mrs Smith, 358 Atong, << ~- = - - = ies Epigram, = - = - = = ib. Life, a song, - - -- 2934 The secret blabbed, * - = 2044 _ » logy concerning- ditto, - 922 | Epigram, = = =.= = - ibe] “Letter to the Editor concer- _Epigram, - - -- = = ibe) ning ditto, - = - = 324. The ghostof Rentonhall, - 329) Moral reflections, - = - 325 | Tolove, - - - = = = 330 cpus arene tedaaen tae AR Pa RN SE eI SS TB DIRECTIONS TO THE BINDER. : PAG Portrait of Lord Milton to face —_ a as View of Inch Colm to face — -_ =e 137. The miscellaneous plate — me 254) Tiger p. 41. Fox p. 153. Ou'stiti p. 265. The A Arctic Bear Pe 3OSe ‘Place the Chronicle before Index at the end. Place the Contents aftcr the Title. Ts = = — = Suert Winns WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5. 1792. SKETCH OF THE LIFE OF ANDREW FLETCHER..OF SALTON, ONE OF THE SENATORS OF THE COLLEGE OF JUSTICE, COMMONLY CALLED LORD MILTox. With a portrait. Tuorp Mrxtox, the faithful. friend and co-adjutor of. Archibald duke of Argyll, as minister for Scotland, was the son of Henry Fletcher of Salton, the imme- diate younger brother of the famous Andrew Flet- cher, the defender of the liberty and independence of - Scotland *. * ‘The family of Salton; Fletcher, is said - to. be’ originally from: the county of Tweeddale ; that Robert Fletcher, the first ofthe family in Scot- land; was of the Fletchers of Sufsex; that Andrew, the sos of Robert, was a merchant of eminence at Dundee, whoseson David, purchased the estate of Innerpeffer, in the county of Angus, and married-a daughter of Og't- vie of Pourie, by. whom he had three sons, Robert, Andrew; and David, Robert eldest, son of the laird of Innerpefer, succeeded to his father m the year 1597, waen he bought the estate of Bencho,- and other lands in the same county, and died in the year 1613, leaving sx sons; Andrew; James provost of Dunde:; Rodert, to whom ke gave Bencho; George VOL, XI. A fF 2 memoirs of tord Milton. Sept. § His mother was the daughter of Sir. David Car-. negy of Pitarrow, baronet, and granddaughter of” David, earl of Southefks ; who was married to Henry in the year 1688. A Lord Milton’ s father, bi be inherited much of the genius, vivacity, and probity of his family, is not to’be traced by his public character... He was devout and studious, and attached to rural affairs. His wife appears to have been a woman of singu- laf merit and enterprise, for the benefit of her fa- mily, and the good of her country. She went, du- ring the troubles in which the family of Fletcher was involved, to Holland, taking with her a mill-wright and weaver, both men of genius and enterprise in their trespective departments ; and by their means flie secretly obtained the art of weaving and drefsing, what was then, as it is now, commonly called bo/- land (fine linen ;) and introduced the manufacture into the village and neighbourhood of Salton * Andrew, the eldest son of this respectable couple, was born in’the year 1692, and educated with.a view to the profefsion of the bar in Scotland. He was proprietor of the estate of Restennote in Angus; John, dean of Carlisle; and Patrick, who died abroad in the service of the states general of Hol- land. ; David Fletcher, bifhop of Argyll, was the eldest son of Andrew, the second con of Innerpeffer: John, the immediate younger brother of the bifhop, was lord advocate of Scotland in tke reign. of Charles 11. whese- heir James, soa of the bifhop of Argyll, left an only daughter Elizabeth, who was married to Sir James Dalrymple of Cousland, to whom the brought the estate of Cranston, now inherited by her grandson, Sir? John Dalrymple Hamilton Macgill bart. ® Memoirs of the family, MsS. ' T4992. “memoirs of lord Milton. 3 admitted an advocate on the 26th of February 1417, -one of the lords of Sefsion on the 4th of June 1724, and lord justice clerk on the 21st of July 1735, which office, on being appointed keeper of the signet ‘in the year 1748, he relinquithed. The acutenefs of lord Milton’s understanding, his judgement and addrefs, and his minute knowledge of the laws, customs, and temper of Scotland, recom- -mended him early to the notice, favour, and confi- -dence of Archibald duke of Argyll; and he con- ~ducted himself during~the unhappy rebellion 1745, ‘in the important office of lord justice clerk, with so much discretion, that even the unfortunate party ac- ‘knowledged, that by the mild and judicious exercise -of his authority, the impetuosity of wanton punifh- ment was restrained, and lenient measures adopted -for the concealment, or’ recal, of such of the rebels as had been rather inyeigled and betrayed into acts of hostility, than impelled by any deep laid designs to -overturn’the establifhed government. He overlooked or despised many of the informations which came to his office through the channels of officious malevo- lence ; and after his -death many sealed letters con- -taining such informations, were found unopened:in his repositories. In the abolition of heritable jurisdictions in Scot- Jand, lord Milton engaged with fervent zeal for the welfare of the country; and he no sooner observed ‘the beginning of public tranquillity, than he imprefs- ed the mind of his illustrious patron, Archibald duke of Argyll, with brilliant designs for the promotion oftrade, manufactures, improved agriculture, and / 4 ‘memoirs of lord Milton. Sept. 5. learning in Scotland. ‘Fhese he ‘signally promoted. by ‘the patronage and ‘direction of the public bank, the conventions of boroughs, the Britifh Linen Com- pany ; the protection of tenants in just litigation with their landlords in the court of Séfsion, and the fa- vouring of such Britifh acts of parliament as were directed towards their security ; and lastly, by the good government of the city of Edinburgh, the pa- tron of the university, in the choice of ‘eminent pro- fefsors, particularly in the school of medicine. ‘Nor was Milton inattentive to the police and good morals of the country, in the appointment of fheriffs, and clergymen to the crown presentations ; all which, though in the immediate power of the duke of Argyll, were in‘a great measute ‘recommended by Jord Milton. | He strenuously ‘promoted that excellent scheme for ‘the provision of the widows and children of the clergy ; which does so much credit likewise to the’ memory of Dr Webster, and that of the learned and, good Maclaurin, who instituted the calculation, which has stood the test not only of Dr Price’s strictures, but of more important experience. It is pleasing*to record with*honour the names of iUlustrious and worthy compatriots; and the writer of this little memorial has scarce ever affected any other ambition than that of being the herald and se- neschal of the fame of his deserving countrymen. It would ‘be a tafk worthy of well informed leisure, to fill up the chasms of this slight fketch with a succinct account of the progrefsive improve- ments in Scotland, from the .beginning of Milton’s 1792. om the viper. 5 career, till his death on the 13th of December 1766, the most rapid (perhaps) that ever took place’ in any age or country. “I carnot conclude this memoir, without observing that Milton, at the age/of seventy, with all the vigour, spirit, and ‘political rectitude of his excellent uncle Andrew °*Fletcher of Salton, entered into:the support: -of the proposal for a Seotch militia, with the zeal of a’true patriot ; and wrote an excellent letter to the -thén minister, Mr Grenville, which ought to be yet subjected to the consideration of his. succefsors.and of ‘the country. . - Tt is indeéd:truly astonifhing, that the descendants -o6i men who: fought under the banners of Wallace and Bruce, and wrote*the famous letter tothe pope, Should not aspire after the same honour. and security Which is enjoyed by Englifhmen. An honour which is pofsefsed by the Prufsians and:the subjects of the ‘strictest monarchies on the continent. Pudet hee opprobria-nobis, et dici.potuifse et. non potuifse refelli. ON THE VIPER. Sir, To the Editor.of the Bee. As 1 amone of your constant readers, I have -fre- quently observed in your most industrious Bee, some extracts from the natural history of insects and ani- mals, with which a great many of your readers are unacquainted. The reptile which is to be the sub- ject of this letter, is known toa great many in this land ; but I suppose very few know the way-and 6 ‘on the viper. Sept. 5 manner by which the species is propagated ; I thal, therefore, inform you of what came lately to my knowledge of the viper or adder. About twelve months ago, an honest labguring man inthis place, while at his work, observed some- thing lying on the side of a road, of which heat first took little notice ; but soon after having occasion to pafs that way, observed it was not in the same place where he saw it at first, which raised his curiosity to take amore narrow inspection of it; when, to his great surprise, he found it to be an adder, of about two feet three inches in length; ‘the fkin of which was so thin that he plainly saw some living crea- tures moving within it. He by some means broke the fkin, out of which came several thousands of young adders, rather more than one inch in length, with black heads, the back a whitifh brown, the belly more inclined to white and clear. Having made these ‘observations, he immediately dispatched them, in case they fhould have spread abroad in the country. When he came home, and told his story of what he ‘had seen, some believed him, and others not, saying they had been maggots he had found in the fkin of the adder. And so there was no more about it, untila few days ago,,when a young man found, nearly in the same place, several thousands of the same kind of creatures, and nearly of the same size and colour, marching along a.road, but no fkin was to be seen near. by-them. From which I infer, that when they come to a certain size, they eat themselves out of it, »and begin their journey; As they were within two or three feet of some long grafs, and about ten yards TOR on the viper.” yo from ‘water, the man that found them stood by them lest they fhould go away among the grafs, and so lose sight of them, until another young man came in sight, whom he called to him, that he might fetch something to carry them home in, that they might be seen before they were destroyed. He came and told me, and I willingly went along with him, and found them all marching forward ina determinate order upon the road. . : What took my attention most,. was their order of marching ;—they kept so close together that they very much resembled.the fhape of a large adder, being smaller at the head, and thicker in the middle, from thence tapering all the way to the other end. They moved straight forward: the aggregate body was 2boutone inch broadin their ranks at the head, one inch and one half in the middle, from thence smaller to the tail. They were about sixteen inches in length, ‘and I think they would be about three quarters of an inch in depth, so that there was a great many creep~ ‘Ing one above another, somewhat resembling a swarm of bees going up-into the hive. I likewise observed when they met with any obstruction, such as a small stone, that they would all turn to one side of it; or if they divided their.course they joined again as soon as they were past the cause of it. There seemed to Be some wettith stuff amongst them ; for when I se- parated a few from the main body, the dust stuck to them, and they could not creep but with great diffi- culty ; however, they seemed to guard against that by kee 2ing so sag together 8 en the viper. Sapteg:- Having made these observations on them, dcarried them home, to keep alive for sometime, until they Shouid get more the appearance: of the old ones, and put them into a woodén vefsel with some dry earth in the bottom; taking the lint from the curse pro- nounced against the serpent in holy, writ. They-soon e0t into order again, -and- marched: round and round - the vefsel ; but by some accident, when ] was out of the way, it was overturned, so I judged it the safest way to make an end of them for fear of farther dan- ger. I send ‘you inclosed ‘a few of the young creatures that you may see. them yourself, only Iam afraid by the time you.receive them they will. be sodry, you will not be able to judge of them properly. I would be much obliged to you, and, I dare say, so would a great many of-your readers, if you were to give us some information through the chan- - nel of your Bee, how ‘the species is propagated, and _what method nature, or rather its author, has taken {o prevent them increasing so.fast ; for I have heard . so many stories about them. that I give little heed to - any of them. . If you were to add the best remedy to prevent the fatal effects. of their sting, it would make it both useful and entertaining. As this is about the time the bees begin to lay up their honey for winter, I fhould think myself very happy could this letter ooly supply the place of coarse wax, to contain the more sweet and precious treasure. I commit it to your disposal if you think it worth the inserting, I hope you will be so good as amend all inaccuracies in the writing which you may findit. If not I hum- “E792 on the viper. 9 “bly submit myself to your superior judgement. Be -afsured, however, that.l1.am, Sir, the constant ad- mirer of your writings and publications. . G. R. H. P. S. Although I have once or twice called them young adders in this letter, yet ].am no way confirm- ed in my opinion that they really are so. Their order of marching makes me think they were not maggots ; and it is not agreeable with the natural history of the viper to suppose they increase so fast; I fhall therefore wait for your opinion of ‘them, which -will be gratefully received. I have mentioned all ‘the particulars I observed about them*. ~ * Along with the above-was received ‘by the’Editor in aseparate paper, . several dried small animals, to appearance. One end was clearly. dis- tirguifhable from the-other, by asmall black dot, which is supposed to be the head, the rest was. so’much fhrivelled up ‘in the drying as not to be distinguifhable. “The phenomenon here described iscertainly very uncommon, end deserves the attention of the curious, That it was a nest of young vipers, as the writer evidently suspected, seems not to be very probable. The viper is known tobe a viviparous animal, and-produces its young nearly in the common way, in as far as‘Ihave been able to learn. I never myself had an oppertunity of making any. observations onthe common ad~ . der, buta gentleman to whom I fhewed the above, afsured me, he had seen four or five young ones, about three inches long, and perfectly active, tae ken out of the body of aa adder that was killed. ‘Itis probable some of my country readers may have had’ opportunities of observing the adder while with young, in various degrees.of advance- ment; and it-is also pofsible that some of them may have remarked the same appearance that has been: described by this correspondent, and may be able to throw some lightupon it. Any elucidaticns on this head will be very acceptable. - ’ Fithes that-are generated from spawn, are, I believe, the most produc- tive of all animals ; and these sometimes attach themselves to‘one another, when young, very closely in fhoals, somewhat resembling the phenomtenoa VOL. Xi. B i.) discoveries in Africa. Sept. §» * o~ ~ - _ S DiscovERI£s IN THE INTERIOR PARTS OF AFRICA. ‘Tue afsociation instituted for promoting discoveries inthe interior parts of Africa, of whose labours some accounts were given in the Bee, vol. i. p. 15 and 96, continue with unremitting ardour in their pursuits; and have lately. printed, for the use of the subscribers -only, an account of a-continuation of their discove- here described. I had once occasion to observe a circumstance of this sort myself, respecting eels, which.being curious, asd nothing of the same ‘sort taken notice of in any natural history of that -animal I have seen, J thall briefly. state for the satisfaction-of the reader. MIGRATION.OF EELS. Having occasion to be once ona visit ata friend’s house on Dee-side in Aberdeenfhire, I.often delighted to-walk by the banks of the river *o mark the, phenomena that occurred. J:so0n observed something like a long black string moving along the edge of the river in fhoal water, Up- on closer inspection I discovered that this was a fhoal of young eels, so closely joined together, as to appear, on a superficial view, one continu- ed body, moving brifkly up against the stream. ‘To avoid the retard- ment they experienced from the force of the currentthey kept close along the water’s edge the whole way, following all the bendings and s‘ruasities of the river. Where they were embayed, and in still water, the fhoal di- -Jated in breadth, so as to be some:imes near a foot broad, but when they turned a cape, where the current was strong, they were forced to oc- cupy lefs space, and prefs close to the fhore, struggling very hard till they pafsed it. This fhoal continued to move‘on without in‘erruption night and day for several weeks, Their progrefs-might be at the rate of about one mile in the hour. It was easy to catch as-many ef the animals as you pleased, though they were very active and nimble. ‘They were eels perfectly formed in every respect, but not exceedirg two inches in length. I con. ceive that the fhoal did not contain, on an average, lefs than from twelve to twenty in breadth, so that the number that pafsed, oa the whole, du- ying their progrefs, must have been very great. Whence they came or whether they went I know not. The place I remarked them at was six miles from the seas And I am told the s‘me phenomenon takes _ place there every year about the same season. Edit, 1792. discoveries in Africa. IE ries since the former publication; with a sight of which the Editor having been favoured, he makes haste to lay before his readers an abstract of the im- portant discoveries it contains. It seems perfectly astonifhing that. Africa, the northern parts of which are almost at our very door, fhould have remained for so many centuries so to- tally unknown to the natives of Europe. It now- appears that the vast tract: of country which lies behind the kingdom of Morocco, that has hitherto - been deemed a steril and inhospitable desart, which geographers had no other way of delineating but by. inserting figures of elephauts, and other wild beasts, in their maps, is, in many places, a rich and fertile country, abounding with people who are no strangers to industry and arts, and considerably advanced in civilization and refinement of manners. By the former publication of this society, the pub- lic were made acquainted with the singular confor- mation of that extensive district in the northern parts of Africa, which hath hitherto been denominated Zaara, or the desert, which exhibits appearances not more novel to the naturalist than interesting to the philosopher. It may be called a vast sea of sand,. having islands interspersed through it, which abound . with the richest productions of -the vegetable king- - dom, and are inhabited by various tribes of people in different degrees of civilization, and carrying on with each other an expensive and | precarious. traffic, not by means of fhips, but by caravans of camels, which are sometimes overwhelmed in billows of sand, aad sunk into eadlefs oblivion. . 12 discoveries in Africa. . Sept. §.- Beyond this. district, which is only ‘habitabie in those spots where springs abound on the surface, and where of course the sands are either entirely inter- rupted, or of small depth, and which we have compa- red to islands, it now appears, that another district, consisting of firmer materials, begins in which mountains arise in various directions, that produce rivers of great magnitude, which not only add ferti- lity to the country, but facilitate the commerce of those numerous tribes of people who. inhabit their borders. This fertile zone, besides smaller streams,,. is watered by the Senegal, the Gambia, the Niger, and the Nile. Part of this district forms. the sub- ject of the present publication ; and the discoveries respecting it are already great ard highly interest- ing; but hitherto only a small part of it has been imperfectly explored. ‘he internal parts of that immense tract. of country, which extends from the -Niger southward to Caffraria, remains yet to be in- vestigated, and will furnifh many future memoirs from a society which promises to. add much. more to the sum total of human knowledge, than was ex- pected when it was first instituted.. May they con- tinue steady in their pursuits,.and, be as. fortunate as they hitherto. have been, in finding men caleulated' .for engaging in the arduous tafk of discovery ! The public have already heard some-surmises. of. the existence of a large town on the banks of the Niger, called Houfsa, which seemed to be so»wonder-. fal, and it appeared, so impofsible that a place of _such magnitude as it was represented to be, could have so long been totally unknown in Europe,, if B7Q2.). . discoveries in Africa: 13 such a place there had been, that its existence was doubted. by many. It now appears undeniable that such a place does actually exist. The circumstances that have led to this.conclusion, and the steps that. have been taken for extending our discoveries still farther in Africa, will be learnt from the following abstract of the publication. of the seciety, which fhall ¢ given, as much as our limits will. admit, in the. words.of the ingeniows compiler of this account. An Arab. called. Shabeni had, two. years. ago,. given to the society an account of an empire on the -banks of the Niger, which strongly attracted-the. attention of the society., He said “that, thespopu- lation of Houssa, its capital, where he. resided two years, was equalled only (as far as his knowledge extended) by that of London and Gairo:.andin his . rude unlettered way;. he described the government as monarchical, yet not. unlimited ; its justice as se-. vere, but directed by written laws; and the. rights of landed property as guarded by the institution of certain hereditary officers, whose functions appear to be similar to. these of the Canongoes of Hindostan, and whose important and complicated duties imply. an unusual degree of civilization and refinement. _ For the probity of their merchants, he exprefsed ‘the: highest respect; but. remarked, with indigna- tion, that the women were admitted into society, and shat the honour of the. hufband was often insecure. ‘ OF their: written alphabet. he knew no more than that it was perfectly different from the Arabic and _the Hebrew characters ; but he described the:art of writing as common in Houfsa. And when he acted i4) discoveries in Africa. . Sept. F-- the manzer in which their pottery is made, he gave, unknowingly to himself,.a representation of the Grecian wheel. ‘ In pafsing from Houfsa to Tombuctoo, in which tast city he resided seven years, he found the banks of the Niger more numerously peopled than those of the Nile, from Alexandria to Cwiro; and-his mind - was obvionsly imprefsed with higher. ideas of the wealth and grandeur of the empire of Houfsa, than those of any other kingdom -he had seen, England . alone excepted. * The existence of the city of Houfsa, and the em- pire thus described by Shabeni, was strongly con- firmed by ‘the letters whieh the committee received. from his mejesty’s consuls at Tunis and Morocco, | and with this additional/circumstance of information - from them, that beth at Tunis and Morocco, the eunuchs of the seraglio were brought from the city - of Houfsa. _* Anxious to investigate the truth of these ac-- counts, and impatient to explore the origin a ' course of a river that might pofsibly open to Britain . 2 commercial pafsage to rich and populous “nations; the committee embraced ‘the proposals which the ar- dour of anew mifsionary offered to their acceptance, : For major Houghton, who was formerly a captain in the 69th regiment, and in the year 14779 had ‘acted. under general Rooke as fort major, in the island of © Goree,’ exprefsed his willingnefs to. undertake the - execrtion of a plan, which he heard they had formed,. of penetrating to the Niger by the way of the Gam--. bia, . - -E7926 discoveries in Africa. ' rs ‘ His ifistructions, accordingly, were to ascertain the course, and, if pofsible, the rise and termination of that mysterious river ; and after visiting the cities‘of Tombuctoo and Honfsa, to return by the way of the. desert, or by any other ronte which the circumstan- ces of his situation at the time fhould recommend to his choice.’ This new mifsionary is thus characterized in a succeeding part of this publication, ‘ The obstacles he has surmounted, and the dangers he has escaped, “appear to have made but little imprefsion on his mind; a natural intrepidity .of character, that seems inaccefsible to fear, and anasy flow of constitutional good humour, that even the roughest accidents of life have no power to subdue, have formed him, in a peculiar degree, for the adventure in which he is engaged : and such is the darknefs of his.complexion, that he scarcely differs in appearance from the Moors of Barbary, whose drefs in travelling he intended to afsume.’ This adventurous traveller left England on the 16th October 1790. He arrived at the entrance of the Gambia on the roth of November, and was kindly received by the king of Barra, who remem- bered the visit the major had formerly paid to him from the island of Goree; and who now, in return or a small present of the value of L.20, chearfully tendered protection and afsistance as far as his do- Minions or influence extended. He proceeded up the river to Juniconda, where he ptrchased a horse to go by land to Medina, the ca- 16 discoveries in Africa. Sept. Sa pital of Woolli, where he was kindly and hospitably ‘received. ‘ The town of Medina,’ he says, ‘is situated at the distance of about gco miles, by water, from the entrance ofthe ‘Gambia; and the country adjacent abounds with corn and cattle; and, generally speak- ‘ing, in all things that are requisite for the support, or efsential to'the comfort of life.” — In a letter from this place to his wife, major Houghton, ‘ delighted with the healthinefs of the country, the abundance of the game, the security with which he mate his. excursions on horseback, and above all, with the advantages that would attend the erection of a fort on the :salubrious and beautiful hill of Fatetenda, » here the Englifh once had.a fac. tory, he exprefses his earnest hope that his wife will hereafter accompany him to a place, in which an in- come often pounds'a year will support them in af- fluence ; and that fhe will participate with him inthe pleasure of rapidly acquiring that vast wealth which he imagines its commerce will afford.’ His prospects however were, for the present, sud- denly blasted. A fire consumed almost all his trea- sures, together with a great part of the town. His interpreter ran off with his cavalry,—a trade gun which he had purchased in the river, burst in his hand, and wounded him severely,—yet not suc- cumbing, he proceeded for Bambouk, in company with a slave merchant, ‘on the eighth of May, by moonlight, and on foot, with two afses, which the servant of the slave merchant offered to drive with his own, and which carried the wreck of his fore £792. discoveries in Africa. i7 tune ; and journeying by anorth-east course, arrived on the fifth day at the uninhabited frontier which see parates the kingdoms of Woolli and Bondou. ‘ He had now pafsed the former limit of European discovery, and while he remarks with pleasure the numerous and extensive population of this unvisited country, he observed that the long black hair, and copper complexion of the inhabitants announce their Arab origin.’ After a journey of 150 miles, he reached the banks of the Falemé, the south-western boundary ofthe king- dom of Bambouk. Its stream.was exhausted by the advanced state of the dry season, and its bed exhibi- ted an appearance of slate intermixed with gravel. * Bambouk is inhabited by a nation whose woolly: hair and sable complexions bespeak them of the negro race, but whose character seems to be varied in proportion as the country rises from the plains of ’ its western division to the high lands on the east. Distinguifhed into sects, like the people of Woolli and Bondou, by different tenets, of Mahommedans and Deists, they are equally at peace with cach other,. and mutually tolerate the respective opinions they condemn. ‘ Agriculture and pasturage, as in the negro states on the coast of the Atlantic, are their chief oc- cupations ; but-the progrefs which they have made in the manufacturing arts is such as enables them to smelt their iron ore, and to furnifh the several in- struments of hufbandry and war ; cloth of cotton on the other hand, which on this part of Africa seems VOL. Xi, G 7 18 discoveries in Africa. Sept. 5» to be the universal wear, they appear to weave, by a difficult and laborious procefs.’ The common food of the people is rice. They make a kind of fermented,liquor from honey. He was here pillaged of a great part of his small remaining stores by the king of Bondou, who had just terminated a succefsful wary by which he acqui- ted a considerable part of the dominions of the king of Bambouk. This calamity the latter ascribed to the French, with whom he traded from Senegal, having neglected to supply him with gunpowder and mili- tary stores ; while the Englifh with whom his ene- my dealt, had been regularly supplied with those articles from the Gambia. He afterwards proceeded with great difficulty to Ferbanna the capital of the kingdom of Bombouk, si- tuated on the eastern side of the Serra Coles, or river of gold, where he was kindly entertained. He there made an agreement witha respectable merchant of Bambouk, who offered to conduct him on horseback to Tombuctoo, and to attend him back to the Gam- bia. The king gave him at parting, as a mark of his esteem, and a pledge of future friendthip, a pre- sent of a purse of gold. ‘ With an account of these preparations the major closes his dispatch of the 14th of July; and as the society are informed by a letter from Dr Laidley, his correspondent on the Gambia, that on the 22d of December no later advices had been received, there seems the strongest reason to believe that the major descended the eastern hills of Bambouk, and proceed= ed on his road to Tombuctoo.’ x7Q2. discoveries in Africa. 19 Such are the outlines of this interesting journal. The elegant writer of this publication thus remarks on the information obtamed from him : ‘ The journey of major Houghton from the Gam- bia to the kingdom of Bambouk, has enlarged the limits of European discovery ; for the intermediate kingdom of Bondou was undescribed by geographers: and the information he has obtained from the king of Bambouk, as well as from the native merchants _ with whom he conversed, has not only determined the course, and fhewn, in a great degree, the origin of the Niger ; but has furnifhed the names of the principal cities erected on its banks ; fortunately, too, ‘the accounts which he has thus transmitted, are strongly confirmed by the intelligence which his ma- jesty’s consul at Tunis has collected from the Bar- bary merchants, who trade to the cities of Tombuc- too and Houfsa, and whose commercial connections -extend to the highest navigable parts of the Niger. Wor is this the only advantage for which the com- mittee are indebted to the public spirit and indefati- gable zeal of.consul Magra; for the specimens of the -vegetable productions of the countries on the south _of the desert, which the acquaintance he has culti- vated with the conductors of the caravans has en- -abled him to send to the committee, afford a satisfac- tory proof that the account which their printed nar- Tative, on the authority of Shereef Imhammed, has given of several of those productions, is faithful to the objects it describes. And the relation he has transmitted of the routes from Tunis to Ghedesmes, and from thence to-Cafhna and Tombuctoo, have fur- 20 discoveries in Africa. Sept. 5 nifhed important materials for elucidating the geo- graphy of the desert. ‘ But though we have now afsurance that the Niger has its rise in a chain of mountains which bound the eastern side of the kingdom of Bambouk, ~-and that it takes its course in a contrary direction from that of the Senegal and the Gambia, which flow on the opposite side ef the same ridge, yet the place of its final destination is still unknown; for whether it reaches the ocean, or is lost, as several of the rivers of mount Atlas are, in the immensity of the desert; ot whether, like the streams of the Caspian, it ter- minates in a vast inland sea, are questions on which there hangs an impenetrable cloud. ‘ From a pafsage in Eschylus, in which Prome- theus relates to lo the story of her future wanderings, there is reason to believe that some of the ancients imagined the river Niger to be the southern branch of the Egyptian Nile, which others -represented as rising in the hills, to which they gave the fanciful name of the mountains of the Moon. The pafsage from Eschylus, as translated by Potter, is exprefsed in the following words : 4¢ —____ Avoid tke Arimaspian ‘troops. —Approach them not, but seek A land far distant, where the tawny race Dwell near the fountains of the sun, and where The Nigris pours his dufky waters ; wind Along his banks till thou fhalt reach the fall, Where, from the mountains with papyrus crown’d, The venerable Nile impetuous pours His headlong torrent; he fhall guide thy steps To those irriguous plains, whose triple sides His arms-surround; there have the fates decreed Thee and thy sons to form the lengthen’d line.” 1492. discoveries in Africa. 2% « The accounts received by the committee, of the probable facility of opening a trade from great Bri- tain to the various cities on the Niger, encourage a ‘belief that the inland regions of Africa may soon be united with Europe in that great bond of .commer- cial fellowfhip which the mutual wants and different productions of the other continents of the globe have happily establifhed. Much, undoubtedly, we thalt have to communicate, and something we may have to learn: for the merchants of Barbary afsert that the people of Houfsa have the art of tempering their iron with more than European fkill; and that their ‘files in particular are much superior to those of Great Britain and France. ‘ To what degrees of refinement’ ‘the unmeasured ‘length of succefsive generations may have improved their manufactures ; or to what arts, unknown and unimagined in Europe, their ample experience may have given rise, the next dispatches from major Houghton may probably disclose. That in some of these insulated empires the knowledge and the lan- guage of ancient Egypt may still imperfectly sur- vive, is not an unpleasing supposition: ‘nor is it ab- solutely impofsible that the Carthagenians, who do not appear to have perifhed with their cities, may have retired to the southern parts of Africa; and, .though lost to the world in the vast oblivion of the desert, may have carried with them to the new re- gions they occupy, some portion of those arts and sciences, and of that commercial knowledge, for which the inhabitants of Carthage were once so emi- aently famed.’ 22 moral reflections. Sept. f« MORAL REFLECTIONS. To the Editor of the Bee, by Mira. THERE is apoint beyond which the human mind can. not suffer, and there are also bounds, beyond which human calamity cannot extend. Reflect, my beloved friend, with humble gratitude; reflect how far ;ou _are yet from reaching the verge of that frightful gulph. Reason, religion, friend{hip, and conscious rectitude, are yours ; open your heart to those con- solations which these supply ; and above all, let the consideration of the fhortnefs of life mitigate the se- verity of its sufferings, and the afsured hope of that which is to come, teach you to rise superior to them; seek relief from that Being, who, in times of extre- mity, often brings us unhoped deliyerance, and is alike powerful and willing to afsist those who put their trust in his aid. It is by awful dispensations, and in hours of peculiar darknefs, that the Almigh- ty teaches his feeble creatures, to raise their eyes from second causes, and what they call fortuitous events, to Him, the great first Cause and supreme Governor of the universe. It is then their virtues are made perfect by discipline,—that their faith triumphs over the world: it is then the most én- lightened of the human race are brought to a feeling sense of their own ignorance, that with ,humility they adore what they cannot comprehend, and cry out, Man is error and ignorance! Being of beings hhave mercy upon us! Ah why has heaven condemn’d me to sustain This grief, for ills I never can relieve; Why must I only weep the wretches’ pain, Prove the warm with, yet want the pow’r to give; 1792. poetry. - 23 Why mark true merit immaturely fade,” Uncherifhed,unprocecced and unknown 3 Lost in obscurity’s remotest fhaae, The buds of genius blasted soon as blown! Why must I see unpitied, unrcdrefs’d, The cruel injuries of wanton pow’r; Forc’d to conceal the anguifh of my breast, Denied to succour whom I most deplore! Yet heaven can witnefs I ne’er wifh’d for wealth, Nor the gay follies of a foreign land; : Ne’er sacrific’d to pleasure, peace and health, Nor indolence preferr’d to useful toil; Mine was the with, far from the world to plan The moral tale, instructive of my kind; To point the best pursuits of social man, And form by stealth the uncorrupted mind; Unnotic’d to convey the prompt supply, To chear dull poverty’s obscure abode; To reas tne language of the grateful eye, Catch the warm praise, and pvint as due to Godj Of youth the kind affections to engsge, To nouriih tender infancy with bread 5 With kind compaision cherith feeble age, And give the cordial which I yet may need. Yer say is happinefs to wealth allied, Had Heaven so will’d, it ne er had been afsign’d, To gratify the with of pamper’d pride, Or work the purpse of th’ invidious mind. Hence-vain complaints; tence and be heard no more! Heaven’s wond’rous plan, to Heav’n is only known; Perhaps endowd’d with affluence and pow’r, That insolence I hate had been my own; With pleasure circled, and secure from fear, Perhaps a stranger to each softer tie, I ne’er had known compafsion’s cordial tear, The thousand cordial sweets of sympathy. Though wealth by-providence has been deny’dy Fair is my lot, no siggard blifs is mine; For I can heal the wounds of honest pride, And teach revenge its pu:pose to resign; Can cherifh modest merit with applause, With kindnefs soothe the apprehensive mind 5 Can plead with boldnefs virtue’s injur’d cause, Or hide the frailties of my feeble kind: And oft the anguith of the bursting heart, The gentle voice of friendthip will restrain5 A mite to indigence will joy impart, A pitying sigh, some respite give to pain, A cheerful taie deceive the weight of years, A doubtful hope, the trembling tear suspend, A welcome louk dispell a lover’s fears. A simple sonnet please a partial friend, 24) poetry; Sept. 5s And thése are mine, now I these gifts dispise, Erernal power, to whom each girt 1 owe, With-hold.even from my prayers the means of vice, Nor let my with fulfill’d procure my woe. Mira, 66 O yes! “tis time to be warie; ¢¢ Jamie’s a sad ane,—he never will marry 5 ¢¢ He may rise in the morning, and wait till he’s weary, TAK TENT AND BE WARY. A SCOTS SONG NEVER PUBLISHED BEFORE. I, © Hew! lafs, but you're canty and vogie! © Wow but your een Ilcok pawky and roguie! © What was ye dooing in yonder green bogie, © Up in this morning sae airy and grey ?” ‘¢ T’ve-been wi’ someboddie,—what need ye to speer ? <¢ Pve been wi’ young Jamie,—I’ve been wi’ my dear !! «¢ God save me! my mither will mifs me, I fear: ¢¢ D’ye ken lafs he’s courting me‘a’ the lang oy ek If. © O Kate! tak tent’ and be warie; © Jamie’s a sad ane! he never will marry: ¢ Think o” poor Tibby !—he’s left her to carry « Black burning fhame till the day*that the die!” ¢¢ J carena for Tibby,—a glaiket young quean! “ Her gaits wi’ the fallows, we a’ ken lang syne 35 6¢ The heart o” my laddie I never can tyne, 6 He promis’d to marry me down en yon lea! III. «-Q no! I need'nae bewarie; “¢ Yes, yes! he means for to marrys ‘© Wi’ mony sweet kifses he ca’d me his dearie, <¢ And swore he wad tak me before beltan day!” © O Kate, Kate! he'll deceive ye, 6 (The deil’s in the cheil! he does naithing but grieve mes) * He’s fu’ 0’ deceit, gin ye like’to believe me, © The fause loon last night said-the same thing to me.” 1Ve x. *¢ Dear Jean but you're unco camstrarie, «© Yell ne’er let a boddie trou ever theyll marry ; «¢ Ye’ve now gi’en me something that’s no light to carry 5 6¢ * Twill lie at my heart till the day that 1 die!” She gaid awa sighing,—/fhe gaid awa wae 5 Her mither flet saré, for her biding away ; She sat down to spin,—ne’er a word could fhe say, But drew cut a thread wi’ the tear in her ee ! Vv. ¢* He’s no sce my face this year and a day.” 3792. poetry. ~ She raise wi’ the lav’rock,—fhe milked her cew; She sat down by her leglin, and ’gan for to rue; Young Jamie came by,—her heart lap to her mou, And fhe trow’d ilka word that the fause loon did say, © dear how lafses will vary ! Sometimes they’re doubtfu’, "tis then they are warie; But when ¢ luve comes louping,’ they ay think we'll marry, And trust like poor Kate to what fause loons will say. ———S \ POMPEY’S GHOST. - I. From perfect and unclouded day; From joys complete without allay, And from a spring without decay, I came by Cynthia’s borrow’d beams, "To visit my Cornelia’s dreams, | And bring them still sublimer themes. Il. ; Tam the man you lov’d before These streams had wafh’d away my gore,” Py And Pompey: now fhali bleed no more; Nor thall my vengeance be withstood, Nor unattended by a flood Of Roman,and Egyptian blood. Iil. Czsar, himself, it thall pursue, ° His days fhall troubled be, and few, » And he fhall fa] by treason too; He, by a justice all-divine, Shall fall a victim,at my fhrine 5 _As I was his he fhall be mine. IV. Thy troubled life regret no more, For fate will waft thee soon afhere, And to thy Pompey thee restore; f Where guilty heads no crowns fhall wear, - Nor my Cornelia fhed a tear, Nor Czsar be dictator there. VOL. Xi. a Il 26 on the Highlands. Sept. 5.- AN ENQUIRY INTO THE EFFECT THAT THE SALT LAWS PRODUCE ON THE,REVENUE IN SCOTLAND. Havine fhowed, Bee vol. viii. p. 150 & 192, and vol. x- p- 297, to what an intolerable degree the salt laws ope- rate in retarding the industry of the people of Scotland, I fhall now proceed to enquire in what manner they affect the national revenue. The total net produce of salt duties in Scotland, accor- ding to Sir John Sinclair’s account of the revenue, ap- pears to be for the whole of Scotland, anno 1789 *, L.9293: 10: 12. i By the third report of the committee of parliament, on fifheries, it appears, that in the counties of Argyll, Inver- nefs, Sutherland, Caithnefs, Orkney, Shetland, Nairn, and Cromarty, the account of customs: stood thus, for the average of ten years preceding 1784. Grofs annual produce, —~ - - -— BL. 5073 12 6 Expence of collecting, including custom- house cruizers for that part of the is- landg - - = - - = - = 10,105 10 It Payments exceed the produce +4. — L.5031 18 14 So that government pays nearly twiceas much as it draws in ‘these counties, on the. single branch of customs ; and a de- falcation of revenue to the amount of more than five thousaad pounds a-year is incurred. The excise account is little diiferent. But this is not the whole of the lafs incurred by the revenue on account of the salt laws. Because of these * History of public revenue, part iii, p. 344. + Account of the present state of the Hebrides, Introduction, p, 65. 1492. on the Highlands. ay laws, it has been fhown, that the fifheries amon $ the is- lands, and the trade in fifh, has been entirely pre. cluded ; and in order to have any fifheries at all, governme.nt has been obliged to grant bounties for velsels fifhing fox her- rings, and a debenture on the exportation of these from Britain; neither of which would have been necefsary had the trade in salt and fifh been perfectly free. These two drains from the revenue must therefore be deducted. This account on an average of years preceding 1783, stands thus : Bounties paid on bufses in Scotland *, L.14,082 15 © Premiums on exportation+, - - - 6051 I1 49 To which must be added, premiums for Scotch herrings, and hard fifh exported from England, supposed to be about, 2000 9 6 Add also the annual lofs on the customs, a ‘as above, - - = =) = ip sAunGOZh, IS oRs Add farther the premiums wale by the society for encouraging fifheries in Scotland, at least, per annum, - - - 2000 0 6 Total outgivings, - -%%- - - - 29,166 5 9 From that deduct the net proceeds of the salt duties, - - - - — = 9293 10 4 Outgoings exceed the incomings, -— L.19,872 15 8 So that the revenue sustains a clear annual lofs of nearly twenty thousand pounds a-year. This, however, is only a small part ofthe lofs; for when the matter is’ fairly investigated, we ought to advert, not only to the net Jofs that is annually sustained ; but to that ought to be added the net revenue which would accrue to the state, were these people put into such a situation as * See third report of the committee of fitheries, Appendix, No. 4. oe Ibid. 23 on the Highlands. Sept. > to enable them to be in as prosperous circumstances as’ other parts of the country, so as to pay taxes in an the A proportion. There are at least 500,000 inhabitants in those counties of Scotland above enumerated, who, instead of paying taxes to the Sema: actually draw a considerable sum from it. Suppose ‘that in the whole of England, and the re- maining parts of Scotland, there are eight millions of people. These eight millions of people yield at present a free revenue of more than sixteen millions to the exchequer. Of course, at the same rate, this’ half million ought, if they were in equally prosperous circumstances, to pay on€ million of‘free taxes into the exchequer. At this rate it is‘obvious that government loses an an- nual revenue of abaut L.1,030,000 fox the sake of obtaining an annual income of lefs than L. 10,000 only. Can any conduct be more irrational, were humanity entirely out of thé question !! Neither is this the whole of the lofs that revenue sus- tains. If the same system be persisted in, emigrations from these countries must continue to increase; the num- ber of people there must annually diminifh ; and with it, the present strength of the country be impaired, and its future resources be cut off. But fhould this opprefsive system of legislation be aati doned, and the people put.into easy circumstances, their numbers would rapidly increase. In a {hort time, instead -of a half, there would be a whole million of inhabitants, yielding a revenue of at least two millions, which might soon increase to a degree that no person can at present fgrm an idea of. ° Let us not think that these ideas are chimerical, Spain, in the time of Augustus, contained Afty millions of rEq92) on thé Highlands, gall people. In consequence of a succefsion of absurdities in their system of legislation, they are diminifhed now to eight. And, by an opposite management, the United Pro- vinces, which, at the first mentioned period, contained not perhaps two. thousand inhabitants, contain now more than two millions. Some will object to the pofsibility of ever sustaining a numerous population in the Highlands and Isles of Scot- dand. The soil, they will tell you, is poor, and the climate unfavourable; it is therefore in vain to hope that this -part of the country can ever become populous or wealthy. ‘Those, however, who argue thus, do not seem'to be suffici- ently aware of what can be effected by man, when under a rational and mild system of government. Countries much -more destitute of resources, under the vivifying influence of a wise system of legislation, have become much more populous than the most fertile kingdoms in. Europe. “The canton of Appenzel,” says Mr Robert in his Voyage dans les x1u1, cantons Suifses, p. 229, “a small district, part of which is occupied by glacieres, inaccefsible rocks, ravines, and precipices, offers a population of fifty-five thousand inhabitants, which, in proportion to its extent, greatly sur- _ pafses the most fertile countries. The canton of Appen- zel contains seventeen hundred inhabitants for every square league ; neither the rich plains of the Milanese, nor _ the most fertile provinces of France, nor even the United Provinces, vivited by an immense commerce, does present such a population. “ T had seen,” says he with surprise, “*the multitude of habitations ‘scattered along the mountains, on approaching ‘towards St Gall; my astonijhment redoubled, and was carried to the highest pofsible pitch, when I entered into * the canton of Appenzel. In places which are not suscep- tible of any culture, in.an immense valley, where they nei- ther gather wheat, nor wine, nor legumes, nor barley, nor 30 _on the Highlands. Sept. 5... rye, nor-oats, nor fruits; where the soil neither produces . “hemp, nor flax, nor oil, not even potatoes; in these wild places which nature had devoted to solitude and deserti- on, what a prodigy is it to see the mountains covered, even to the top, with houses which seem to form a continued village without bounds! so near do they approach to each other. “ Appenzel, itself, which, considering the nature of the _ country, and its position, ought only to present a few straggling and miserable hamlets, is a beautiful burgh, the greatest part of the houses in which are painted, and whose inhabitants live at their ease. “ This magnificent burgh seems to be separated from the rest of the universe. Nature has fhut up the avenues ‘to it. ‘The communication is such that it can only be approached by means of woodden stairs fixed to the rock. Neverthelefs, independent of a numerous population, the inhabitants are well clothed, well fed, and the inns well served,” Will any one who knows the Highlands of Scotland pretend to say, that it does not pofsefs natural advantages infinitely beyond what the canton of Appenzel enjoys? Yet if freedom aud judicious laws have been sufficient to clothe these barren and inacefsible hills with habitations, and to make the people live there in chearful afHluence, what might not a small fhare of the same political. wisdom effect in the last ;—with the poet we may well say of this, That all is the g ft of industry. But if government fhall bind the hands of the vigorous, and thus dry up the very sources of affluence, is it pof- sible to avoid execrating the power that is exerted, not to encourage industry, but to reprefs it ;—not to protect the people, but to anncy them ;—not to inv te inhabitants ta -add to our populaticn, our strengh, and ovr wealth, but te Y72.. on the Highlands. 3r" compel our people to fly from these inhospitable fhores, and to seek that support among a foreign nation, that their own unwise legislators have thought it was not worth their while to afford them? I have no desire to promote national disgust ; but it is impofsible for me ever to contemplate this subject, without experiencing an indig- nant feeling that overcomes every other consideration. Let not those who observe the present prosperity of Britain in other respects, turn their eyes from this disa- greeable scene with contempt, or think it unworthy of their notice. The progrefs of depopulation, when it once begins, is rapid beyond what can be conceived; and ex- tends its influence much farther than any person will easi- ly believe. Spain, when in the plenitude of:her power; when her empire embraced half the globe, and her arms made all the nations tremble’; Spain, at that moment, in- toxicated with pride, and despising the dictates of reason, drove from her realms at once about a million and a half of her’ industrious people! In vain did men: of sense point out the consequences to government; these /ower people were beneath their attention ; but with the lofs of these people, the businefs of those which remained was prodigiously slackened, their wealth of course was dimi- nifhed. The taxes they formerly paid with ease, fell fhort of the usual sum; new burdens must be imposed ; which not being paid with ease, gave room for fiscal op- prefsion*. Foreign conquests then opened a door for de- * Dr Franklin, Dr Price, and some others, have endeavoured‘to make the people in Britain think lightly of the consequences jof depopula- tion; but the necefsary effects of decreasing the number of the people, by diminifhing the industry of all who remain, 2s briefly mentioned above, are distinctly specified in adifsertation.by the Editor, (See account of the He» brides, Introduction p. 114,) which having been sent to Dr Price, he cans didly acknowledged he had written upon that subject too hastily, and now was satisfied he had been wrong. 32° on the Highlands. Septe 52° structive enterprises ; the population of Spain has gradual- ly diminifhed from twenty-five to lefs than eight millions of — péople*. That country, which was once a paradise, is now a desert +; and the pittance of money that the crown can squeeze from a deprefsed people, by forced and injudicious ‘taxes, affords to it a revenue of not one-tenth of the sum it might’ now have enjoyed, had wisdom direc- ted the councils of the nation, at the time that their ~ phrenzy made them believe that the lofs of a few of their poor people was of-little consequence. * The twenty-five millions of people here mentioned, respects the time of Philip 11. of Spaia. From the time of Augustus, till that last period, - - the coaquest of Spain by the Goths and the Moors, and the«continual_ wars carried on inthat kingdom, had diminifhed the population from fifty to twenty-eight millions +On few subjects do mankind in general judge more fallactiously thanin. * what respects the fertility of countries, or their capability of sustaining 2 great number of people.*Places that at present produce next to nothing, not even for the sustenance of domestic animals; may be made by human in- dustry, where a numerous people are collected together, to produce in a fhort time as abundant crops as-can be found in any part of the globe. - There are many and extensive fields in the neighbourhood of Aberdeen, -- whose whole produce, only a few years ago, was not worth sixpence an ‘acre, that now afford the most abundant crops, and let from three to six pounds an acre, of rent.. This is'an undeniable proof of the power of fer- tilizing a country, by means of concentered population. It is more wonderful still that land, which has been by human industry rendered fertile and productive, fhould, by the absence of man, and the ~ slackening of his industry, become once more barren and steril as at first. - The land of Palestine that once supported such a number of people, as -must have covered eyen its hills with habitations, is now so completely barren, that not a hundredth part of its then population, can find a scanty subsistence from its ungracious soil. : In like manner, Spain, which by all ancient authors hasbeen celebra- - ted for its amazing fertility, and which, while it contained a population in itself, alo-e, of fifty millions of people, easily found subsistence, and to spare, for immense foreign armies ; now that its people are dwindled to eight millions, it has lost its fertility ina yet higher degree; so that these 1792, on the Highlands. $3 If:them depopulation be the necefsary consequence: of injudicious laws ; and if national debility, and fiscal po- verty, be the unavoidable consequences of depopulation, even in the most fertile countries: if, on the other hand, a strict attention to guard the interests of the people, will, alone, be sufficient to clothe with hamlets»the most inhospitable desert, and to diffuse wealth and happinefs among a numerous people,—irresistible national strength, and an abundant fiscal revenue, must be the natural and unavoidable consequences; as the examples I have pro-. duced clearly fhow. Is it pofsible for administration to turn their minds to any subject that is more deserving their maturest consi- deration, than that which I now so strenuously recom-- mend to their notice > Now is the time to do it with ef- fect. What proposition can be more plain, than that re- venue is the offspring of population and wealth? and that: of course every law which tends to diminifh the number of the people, or to retard their acquisition of wealth, necefsarily dries up the sources of fiscal revenue ? Nothing sure can be more plain ; yet from the inattention that is bestowed upon this subject, by men in the executive de- partments of government, and by those who are not in it, eight millions, though poorly fed, are obliged to-have recourse to fore gn * couniries, to which heaven, as they would say, had been pleased to grant a more fertile soil, for a supply of food. Such is the influence of MAN in this universe, that when free to exercise-his natural faculties, and protec. ted from the depredations of others, he can even create, as it were,ia new earth for himself, make the most barren soil abundantly to supply his wants,, and the most unhospitable climate become subservient to his will. It is not soil or climate, but liberty and protectionalone, whichcan ever produce abundance.. Let not, therefore, a country be abandoned, because it is now considered as barren. Let us not fear that ever provisions will fail, where the hands: of man are free, and. where his industry is not checked by injudicious: laws. VOL. XL, E + 34 on the Highlands. Sept. 5: it would seem that neither of them are able to compre- hend the force of this plain.mode of reasoning. . I have often said, nor can it be too often repeated, that the Highlands and Islands of Scotland offer natural. sour- ces of population, manufactures, and trade, and conse- quently revenue, that no other part of the Britifh domi- nions. can. ever equal; and atime. will ne doubt come,_ when the nation will avail itself of these natural. advan- tages ; but how long it may be before this takes place, no one-can. tell. Many ages had elapsed before the Gre- cian Archipelago, from advantages. similar in. kind, though. greatly inferior in degree, came to be the. wonder- of the universe. -Innumerable harbours in the. Highlands; and Isles which have no bar but those that ill judged laws: create, offer a facility. of intercourse between every. parti: of the country and another, and with all the world, that: are known no where else. Level. straths lead from these harbours into the very heart ofthe country, in some places: acrofs the whole island, that offer an- unequalled facility of intercourse by. ]and.. Inexhaustible- streams. of water, , which; from the amazing height of fall, would, , under- proper management, have a power over machinery, next: to infinite; would give to manufactures there, an unrival-. led advantage over all others: The sterility of the coun-- try is nothing ; it. is more fertile than. Appenzel, more-~ _ easily preserved from the» destructive ravages of the ele- ments than Holland ; and were a: free intercourse pers mitted by the laws, in coal and in grain *, it would be. come a-sure market for the produce of some of the more- fertile districts in Britain, which are better calculated for * Not only are the salt laws opprefsive,—many others are equally inju-, dicious.. Among others, by the-late corn act,-it is in the power of any. eustomhouse officer stationed there, to starve- nearly half .a million of people for want of food, almcswhcn-he pleases!) 9702. amprovements in India. 35 ‘agriculture than ‘manufactures. Halifax, Wakefield, and ‘Leeds, enjoy only a few of the advantages that the coun- ‘tries Inow describe pofsefs in perfection; and the in- ‘fluence of these markets is felt for hundreds of miles a round them. It is those alone who have seen and com- » pared the natural capabilities of the two countries, whe “can form.an idea of the infinite disproportion that sub- “sists between them; yet it is this country which nature “has formed, as it were, with the sole view of fhowing to “what an astonifhing degree of perfection manufactures and ‘trade may be-carried. It is this very country our fhort ~sighted politicians despise, and by laws which nothing but “ignorance could dictate, and insanity continue, is ren- «dered a‘dreary solitude. The people, by artificial re- “straints, are deprived of the very means of subsistence, ~and driven in despair to seek for refuge elsewhere. While “the heart bleeds for individual distrefs thus produced, it “is impofsible to say whether contempt for the folly, or in- dignation at the atrocity of such proceedings fhould pre- vail. It is clear, however, that the minister who pafsive- ly and inadvertently permits these things to be done, ss ‘far lefs to blame than those are, who, seeing these great “evils, are at no pains to develope to the minister and the ‘mation at large, the alarming consequences of not afford- ‘ing timely redrefs of such intolerable grievances. NOTICES OF IMPROVEMENTS NOW GOING ON IN INDIA. "Tue benefits that would result to the community from a ‘free correspondence carried on upon liberal principles, -are imconceivably great. This is made particularly evident by the perusal of Dr Anderson’s correspondence san India, the continuation of which I received by the 36 improvements th India. Sept. 5. Raymond late from Madras. In every page of that correspondence, new facts are discovered, and striking views of improvements suggested. The culture: of the silk worm, over a very extensive tract of country, is al- ready in a great measure effected. And the opuntia is now reared in such abundance, as to afford no room to doubt, that when the cochineal insect arrives, it will soon become a general object of culture. Besides the white lac already mentioned, many other useful productions, by Dr Anderson’s influence, have been brought to Madras from China, Sumatra, and the other islands in the Indian ecean. And in these researchés, many valuable plants have been discovered that never were suspected to be there, particularly the bread-fruit tree, which was supposed to be found no where else on the globe but in the South Sea islands. The general spirit with which these en- quiries are now carrying on in India, will appear from the following letters, which I willingly insert, from a full conviction that they will afford much pleasure to every well disposed mind. Sir, Mr R. Clerk dep. sec. to Dr James Anderson, Tue supercargoes at Canton, having, in consequence of an application made by this government at your recom- mendation, sent here, in the fhip General Abercrombie, eight boxes containing 200 tallow trees, and 200 lacquer trees. I am directed to acquaint you that the com- mander will be directed to deliver those plants to your charge. I am, Gre. Fort St George, Feb. 14. 1792. Dr Fames Anderson, to the honourable Sir Charles Oakeley, bart. acting governor, and council, Madras. Hownouraste Sirs, I am favoured with your notice of the. arrival of trees, which are no doubt those I recommended to be sent from £792. improvements in India. 34 China; but as it appears by your correspondence with Dr Berry that you disapprove of a botanical garden, and ex- pect that he will only take care of the nopals, I am sotally at a lofs how to dispose of them. I can only say that the introduction of cochineal is a distant object, and the garden at Marmalon) may be use- fully employed, .as I have long ago stated to your board; and as the honourable the court of directors have approved, in ordering these plants from China, I em unable to re- commend him to take care of them, till your farther plea- sure is known.’ As the gentlemen at the factory have so handsomely ‘acquitted themselves, I must recommend that in your first letter to Canton you will desire plants of the can-la- chu and ‘choui-la-chu, mentioned in my letter*to your ‘board, 24th November 1780, to be sent here. As there are now plantations of mulberries through the whole extent of the coast, and as it will be of good con- sequence to extend the cultivation of the ‘nopal, at those ‘places where it may be cultivated without any additional expence, I fhould be glad that you give directions to the postmaster general to receive letters, weighing eight ounces, which will enable me to transmit them. I expect that you will favour me with a list of the su- perintendants of mulberry plantations, and an account of ‘the charges they have made. Iam, Gc. Fort S: Gesrge, Feb. 15. Cha, N. White sec. to Dr Fames Anderson. Sir, I am directed to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 15th, inst. and to acquaint you that an application will be made to the supercargoes at Canton, agreeably to your recommendation, and that the postmaster will be di- rected to receive letters from you, fer the purpose you mention, in such number as may not increase the weight of the tappals beyond what ‘has been ordered, to prevent delay in conveyance of the posts, Mr Berry was directed not to put the company to any additional expence on account of the botanical garden, until the court of directors fhall have signified their plea-~ 238 improvements in India. Sept. 5. ‘sure respecting that establifhment 5 and as the reception of China plants cannot be attended with any increase of ‘charges, the honourable ‘the governor in council approves of your recommending them to his care. You will be furnifhed with a list of the mulberry plan- ‘tations, and an account of their expences, when all the -superintendants have reported the information required of ‘them by some: late orders from government. I am, tc. Feb. 18.°%792. Dr James Anderson, to colonel Kydd, Bengal. Dean Sr, 'J nave the pleasure:to -send by ‘captain Pitman, who has ‘been obliging enough to take charge of them, six tallow -trees, and-six lacquer trees, lately arrived from China. I have not-yet opened the box with the barometers you ‘sent. As captain Kydd, and the gentlemen in.Maifsore have ‘been so nobly employed, I have not ventured to divert ‘their attention ; -but whenever the barometers can be at- tended to, in the manner you have ‘specified, the experi- :ments of. measuring the heights will no doubt enable a bet- ‘ter judgement to be formed of what the different coun- ‘tries are fittest for, than any thing we are yet pofsefsed of. Feb. 27.1792. I am, de. ‘Dr Fames.Anderson, to captain Simpson, commanding the Ship General Abercrombie. Dear Sir, “UnpersTanpinc that you mean to touch at every port on ‘the Malabar coast, in your way to Bombay, I beg leave to trouble you with sixteen wine baskets, filled with three ‘different kinds of‘nopal plants, that have been raised here for the culture of cochineal, (v7%.) from his majesty’s gar- -den at Kew, from the French king’s garden on the isle of -France, and from China. As the bafkets are filled, and closely packed with nopal branches, which ean receive no injury, you may throw them into the fhip’s hold, or stow them away in any man- mer the least inconvenient, taking care only that they B7O 2 improvements in Inata. SF may be readily come at, as I wifh you to distribute some- at every place you touch at, to such persons as will under- take to plant them. I have likewise the pleasure to send you-nine- copies of” the publications I have made on the subject. Sincerely withing you-health and a happy voyage, March 7. 1792. I am, dc. SSS Captain Simpson, to-Fames Anderson, esq. physician general, Dear Sir, I'nap the pleasure of receiving your letter, of yesterday’s date, with nine sets. of each of your publications, accom- panied with a request that I would take charge of sixteen wine bafkets filled with three different kinds. of nopals,. that have been raised in your garden at Madras forthe. culture of cochineal. I most chearfully accept the charge, and fhall not fail to. distribute a part of each sort, with a set of your publica- tions, along the Malabar coast, and at Bombay, to such persons as I judge will pay attention to a plant -so easily. brought forward, and ‘that ultimately may prove so advan- tageous to that side of India. bh I fhall hereafter have the pleasure of acquainting you in: what situation, and with whom I have placed’ them, and. have not the smallest doubtiof their succeeding perfectly to your wifhes.. 1 have the honour to be. Sir, U’c.- March 8. 1792. Dr -Fames Anderson, to the. honourable. Sir Charles Oakeley, bart.. acting governor and councti.. is Honovrasze Sirs, By-captain Simpson, who brought the tallow and lacquer trees-in safety from China, I have sent to the Malabar coast five cart loads- of nopals, chiefly, of the sort: that came from Kew garden, and having a perfect reliance on the integrity and attention of. this gentleman, I.have the honour to inclose the copy of-his answer to me, which you will be pleased to transmit to. the government at Bombay, with a requisition.on your part, that the plants captain Simpson delivers be properly taken care of, as there can. , 40 to correspenaents. Sept. 5. be no doubt that, sooner or later, the cochineal insect will be sent from America to this country, and it will be of. reat consequence to have plants every where in readinefs. ii their reception. aif On the 18th November 1789, I had a promise fronr your board of obtaining from Sumatra trees of that country, but to this hour have heard nothing more of the matter—what this silence cam ‘be owing to, I am at a lofs to say, as Mr Crisp, governor of Bencoolen, is reputed to have much attention to subjects of this nature. As the thip Asia is about to sail for that island, I beg leave again to request your attention to my letter of the 12th November 1789, and having it in contemplation to pro- mote an attention to the culture ofthe bread-fruit tree, I am induced to request you will particularly specify two kinds of bread-fruit trees, which captain Lewis of that es- tablifhment tells me grow there, and are mentioned in Marseden’s history of Sumatra, under the Mallay names, of Sookoon and Calawee. Iam, dc. March 12.1792. vt Mr R. Clerk, to Dr James Anderson. Sir, ’ I am directed by th= governor in eouncil, to acknowledge: the receipt of your letter of the. 12th instant, and to. ac- quaint you that letters will be written to the gentlemen at- Bombay and fort Marlbro’, agreeably to your request. March 14. 1792. I am, @e. To be continued occastonally, TO CORRESPONDENTS, Ture favour of Liberalis is come to hand but perhaps it is rather a little too late to answer fully the intentiofis of the writer. Postage not paid. y The observations-ot Sam. Bombjhell are received; but they seem to-be at present unnecefsary, as the event to which they allude has. actually ta- ken place, and no person has’ exprefsed d'fsatisfaction at it, which fhows that the remarks;of this writer ate very just;—but it is: unnecefsary to combac a fhadow. His farther correspondence will be very acceptable, The observations of 4. B hall have a place as soon as conveniency will permit. The third letter of Drader Political is received. , ‘ The verses by W.G. are received, and fhall be applied ashe desires. Many acknowledgements still deferred for want of room. ‘92. =~ THE BEE, OR LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER 22. 1792. THE ROYAL TIGER. ‘Tue tiger is-one of the largest and most ferocious animals of the cat kind, the peculiar distinguifhing characteristic of which clafs is a set of formidabie ‘claws, which are capable of being extended or drawn in at pleasure. Fortunately they are a solitary clafs f animals which never unite for mutaal defence, like those of the herbivereus kind, nor join in packs to hunt for prey, like those of the dog kind, © They seek their food alone, and are frequently ene TOL... Ie) 9 F + 42 -on the tiger. Sept.’12. mies to each other ; ; though. differing greatly in size and colour, they are neatly allied to’ each other In form and disposition, being all fierce, rapacious, gud artf ul. No quadruped can be more beautiful than this ani- mal; the glofsy smoothnefs of his hair, and the ex- treme blacknefs of the streaks with which he is _ marked, on a ground of a bright -yellow, agreeably strike the beholder. He is larger'than the leopard, though slenderer'and more delicate. “The principal distinction of the tiger, atid in which he differs from all other mottled beasts, is in the form of its colours, which run in streaks nearly in the same direction as the ribs, from the back down to the belly. ‘On the leopard, the panther, and the ounce, the colours are broken in spots all ever the body ; but in the tiger they extend lengthwise, and nay a round spot as: to be found on ats fkin. Cf all-animals the tiger most ‘resembles the-cat m fhape ; but in size it so mucl: exceeds this common domestic that the resemblance does not strike one so strongly who beholds the live animal, as when he views a good representation of it in a print. Mr Buffon informs us that he had been afsured by one of his friends, that he saw a tiger in the East Indies of fifteen feet long. He probably included the tail in these dimensions ; therefore, allowing four feet for that, it must have been eleven feet from the tip of the nose to the insertion of its tail. The tiger does: not pursue his prey, but bounds upon it from his ambufh with great elasticity, and from a distance .that is almost incredible. If they 172: on the tiger. 43 mifs their object, they instantly retire ; but if they sueceed they carry off their prey with ease, were it even as large as a buffaloe, without feeling any im- _ pediment in its flight. They are thought to prefer preying on the human flefh to that of any other animal. They lurk among the sides of bafhes, and almost depopulate many places. If they are undis- turbed, they plunge their head into the body of the animal up to the very eyes, as if it wefe to satiate themselves with blood, .The tiger. is peculiar to Asia, and is found as far. north as China and Chinese Tartary: it inhabits mount. Ararat, and Hyrcania, of old famous for its wild beasts.. The greatest numbers are met with in India, and its- islands. In the mouth of the Ganges, in particular, are many islands which, when that country first came under the dominion of. Britain, were inhabited by a numerous people.. The famines that were occasion- ed by the earliest pied, and which we must copy, if we fhall dare to invent with the hopes of excellence. Neither was it the buildings of the ancients alone ‘that Michael Angelo studied, or that formed his tran- scendent taste. . He studied the beautiful forms.of the ancient sta- ‘ies. , 6¢ The quiver’d God in graceful art who stands, His arm.extended with the slacken’d bow, “Light flows his easy robe, and fair displays A-manly soften’d form. ‘The bloom of gods Seems youthful o’er the beardlefs check to wave; His teatures yet heroic ardour warms; . And sweet subsiding toa native smile, Mix’d with the joy eluting conquest gives, Av scatterd frown exalis his matchleis air.” THOMSO®.. T7H2. “on taste in architecture. Taste in architecture, therefore, is the child of sen- ‘sibility, of nature, of experience, of the study of the antique, of good sense and propriety. It will languifh in a rude climate, where there is ‘not wealth to promote great undertakings, it will be debauched and enervated in any country where sud- ‘den wealth has checked its progrefsive improvement, -and prescribed plans to it, that are inconsistent with -clafsick examples ; and it will be finally destroyed by ‘the introduction of patch work ornament, and dimi- ‘nutive parts, even though every individual part may ‘be taken from the best models. As I write for no particular country, I fhall escape ‘the censure that I might incur by blaming artists ; ‘but these, in all countries, if not blinded by vanity ‘or corrupted by vicious Practices in architecture, will read their chastisement in the luminous ptinciples ‘that are drawn from the history of the art, and its ‘connection with the inexterminable principles of the ‘human understanding and the human heart. As the fine models of antiquity were, from the ~wealth of individuals, and the general diffusion of ‘that wealth in Britain, morte copied in the internal decorations of apartments, than in the verification ‘of great models and in public edifices ; so almost alt our artists have been faulty in the poverty of their \ designs, in the want of noble columniation, thedowy division of parts, aud in what J would beg leave to -eall the perspective of architecture. _ Thus, have I completed the tketch of my reflec. ‘tions, on the sources of improvement in architecs ‘ture, and concerning that taste by Which it must be VOL, Xi, H + 58. on Jhooting pigeons. Sept. 12. regulated to render it noble, convenient, and delight- ful. T have fhown that the original elements of its perfection are to be sought for, and discovered only in nature and sensibility ; and that nature, in the high example of the Greeks, can never be relinquifhed without deformity and disappointment. I might have dilated these observations to swell.into a book, and sold them to_a bookseller, escaping the sneer of prouder authors, as a periodical dangler ; but in. the businefs of writing, I am of the opinion of St Augus- tine, “* that a great book is a great evil ;” and being exceedingly desireus of giving a proper direction to the overflowing wealth of my countrymen in archi- tecture, I have systematically chosen the most sudden and extensive channel of communication. ‘To many there will seem to be little contained in this last ef- say, and to a few there will seem a great deal ; Iwill not, IT cannot, conceal that I am, and always have been desirous of pleasing only a few. I am, Sir, Your obedient humble servant, ‘B.A. ‘ ‘e ON SHOOTING PIGEONS. SIR, To the Editor of the Bee. I wave observed for these two or thee years past, advertisements in the news-papers from an afsocia- ted body of proprietors, threatening to prosecute the fhooters of pigeons ; and which, as_ these advertise- ments appear Only at this season of the year, it may be presumed that it is thereby intended to éntimpdate ‘ ¥792-. > on fhooting pigeons. 59, th: farmers from taking that mode of protecting their crop, from the SANABIS of these destructive . ereatures. ‘ ; With respect to the Jaw, in ‘tis case, I must take the liberty to observe that the old Scots acts on this. subject, stz// unrepealed, are totally silent as: to,/boot- ing or destroying pigeons, although they guard with. abundance of precision against the breaking of pigeon houses *. To judge then from the dictates of reason alone : is it at all reasonable that the poor tenant. fhould be obliged to. suffer the pigeons of the opulent landlord, not merely to feed on his crop, but to destroy it? for it is a well known circumstance that a flock of pigeons alighting among a field of wheat, destroy at least fifty times as much as they eat. Thus, to save the great man‘one fhilling, his. poor. tenant must suffer a lofs of fifty ! I am. positively certain, that in my own farm, which is not very extensive, I lose every year, at this time, fifty bolls of wheat, not eaten, but destroyed by pigeons. I aver also, that. all the pigeons for a mile’ around me, do. not produce a revenue to their weal- thy owners of ten pounds the whole year. These are facts that I can well substantiate ; nor is my situa- tion at all singular ; it is the case of the whole of the low coustry in general. In this manner there is” at least jive thousand bolls of wheat in this county * The Britifh statute on this subject, which was made, I think, in 3762, besides that it does not repeal the old Scois acts,.1t makes the pe- nal es recoverable only in Weftminster-bally se that it cannot Beibly be: construed to extend to Scotland. 60 on foooting pigeons. Sept. 122 annually destroyed in the filling season by pigeons, ‘which do not themselves yield L. 500 of revenue per” annum. ‘This is not merely vexatious and opprefsive to the farmers, it is a national calamity, worse than the mildew or the smutt,—lI had almost said, than the: Hefsian fly ; and yet if the industrious hufbandman, indignant at the havoc made‘in his crop by these ver= min, fhould attempt to prevent it by destroying them, he is in danger of being overwhelmed by a whole: combination of landlords against him ! It would be more laudable in these great men to: enter into an afsociation to. feed their own pigeons: at this season of the year, than to prosecute those who in defence of their property destroy them. The- damage they do to’ the standing corns is far beyond! what is saved in the expence of their feeding,. It may be alleged that the farmers, instead of Jfoooting the pigeons, may drive them away by: scares and rickets. But that has always. been, and ever wilk be, a vain attempt, so long as their owners withhold. food from them. at'home. Nay, fhameful as it may- seem, it is a notorious fact, that many wealthy owns ers of pigeans, with the greatest afsiduity, drive away their own flocks at this season from their own lands,, that they may prey on the crop of the neighbouring farmers! ~ Qne world almost think, that in these revolution titzes there is a general comspiracy against our good old.constitution. On the one hand we have the demo- cratic faction endeavouring to inflame the: minds of the people against it, by misrepresenting our-own si- tuation, compared with their Frenchified ideas of civik BTQZ. , detached remarks. Gr liberty. On the other hand we see the aristocratic’ iaterest in the most public manner setting up a wild claim of privilege that their pigeons, forsooth,. must not be molested in the act of destroying the crop. of the country! If it is unseasonable at this time on. the one side, to. cry up a reform, it is surely as uns. seasonable on the other side to irritate by the afsump- tion of unreasonable and wl founded privileges. eee t Common SENsE. ug. 22. 1792. §; DETACHED REMARKS. For the Bee.. To receive a favour with a good. grace, requires a: certain greatnefs. of soul, which our natural pride,. and love of. independence, render it difficult to exer— cise ; but that surely is an unbecoming pride,. which. makes us revolt against obligations, conferred by those we esteem, and wifh to make happy. It is one unhappy consequence of an extensive knowledge of the world, to render us cautious and suspicious, and. to check that sweet benevolence that glows in the bosom of uncorrupted youth. Always believe the best you can of your species ;, but remember that appearances are often. fallacious, and, if trusted on every. occasion, may betray you into error, and even danger. The children of misfortune have a claim, not only to sympathy and relief, but to respect, because they are peculiarly sensible to the wounds inflicted by care~ lefsnefs and neglect. Small favours and quiet atten- 62. - detached remarks. Sept. 12x tions, excite a2 more pleasing and tender gratitude, in: minds of real delicacy, than great obligations. We are opprefsed with a sense of the latter, and the feel- ing of conscious inferiority they awaken is. always painful; but the former is soothing to: our self-love,. without wounding our pride or generosity. Splendid actions are often: the effect of vanity; con-" stant attentions are always the offspring either of friendhip or humanity. Console yourself with the innocence and inte- grity of your heart, and trust that Zezmg, who is’ not only powerful .to protect,’ but merciful to: support suffering virtue, and. who at last will eternally reward it. Often when our prospects are most gloomy, and our way most perplexed, that unseeen hand, which directs the course of human af- fairs, is stretched out for our deliverance, and con- ducts our steps to safety and peace. Conscious of the rectitude of my intentions, I commit the ifsue of my conduct to that being, whom it is my unfeigned desire to please, who will confirm the good resolu-- tions he 1 inspires, and never forsake those who trust in him. In spite of all the inconveniencies to which it ex- poses its pofsefsor, a feeling heart is surely to be regarded as the first of heaven’s blefsings. Its very pains are pleasing; how exquisite then its joys! Other qualities are perhaps more efsential towards forming the character, but sensibility never fails to , 2792. detached remarks. . 63 «onstitute the truly amiable one. The too great in- dulgence of tender feelings, however, often proves prejudicial to the exerc.se of the social virtues ; it is only when the former are properly regulated, that they become respectable, by leading to the due dis- charge of the latter. Though chearfulnefs cannot always be mantained, amidst the unavoidable evils of life, there is a peace that may be ours, even while struggling with its heaviest misfortunes ; a peace, the c ncomitant of vir- tue, which religion alone can give, and guilt only take away. ‘The great foundation of this invaluable treasure, must be laid in just apprehensions of the di- vine nature and goverfment. If we believé, as we ought, that we are the offspring of a great and good God, who, by his efsential attributes, is present in every place, directing all events, and carrying on, by infinite wisdom, the plan of his divine government, to complete perfection; if we believe that he has placed us here as on a theatre, where our dispositions must ‘be improved, our actions displayed, and our virtues tried, in order to future retribution; if we know that, superadded to the feeble glimmerings of nature, he hath caused the glorious light of revelation to arise, to dispel our fears, confirm our ‘hope, and lead our desires to suitable objects; if we are afsured that events here, fhall prepare us to eternal felicity here- after,—how can we be otherwise than:chearful, se~ rene, and happy? Let us habituate our minds to the prospect of that fast appreaching future, the awiul amportance of which will cause the heaviest of our ‘G4 detatched remarks. Sept. 12 ‘present evils to seem light; yes, the time is coming when piety and benevolence fhall be rewarded with that felicity, which even in this world they. anticipate, and which fhall be the portion of the truly good, ‘through ages that fhall never end. Oh! my dear friend, how do trying situations en- dear to us the great truths of religion. It is religion which stills the violence of pafsion, and soothes the most turbulent to peace-; itis that which, in the dark- -est hour of adversity, illumes and chears the soul of ‘man ; it is that which proves the real dignity of our nature, by discovering to us our origin and desti- ‘nation; it is that alone which converts the fearful apprehension of a mortal separation, into, the con- firmed hope of an everlasting reunion, with those --whom our souls hold dear. Mira. ‘FROM A CELEBRATED AUTHOR. “Morat philosophy makes the honest man, Natural philosophy, ‘the zmgentous man. History, the man of expertence. Poesy, the man of wit. Rhetoric, the eloquent man. ‘Polite learning fheds a diffusive grace and ornament upon all kinds of literature. The knowledge of the world constitutes the inte/i- gent man. The study of the sacred pages forms the goed man. But aux these must go together to make the perfect, egmplete gentleman. =. TTT cr vVO3nwvONSsSsSsSsS aaa BORLRT i a> THE MOURNING MOTHER. For the Bee, From heav’n's wide concave, where serenely mild The eye of mercy beams upon the blest, Look down anointed spirit of my child, And view the anguith of a parent’s breast. - Yet rather turn from misery and woe, * Thou dearest offspring of connubial love; Nor let a mother’s wretchednefs below, One moment dafh thy happinefs above. Oh nature! thou my aching bosom arm, With force of soul to play my trying part; Thou who with magic hand hast fix’d the charm, That twists a child so strongly round the heart. Dear, lost Eliza! in thy infant years, When sweetnefs lisping prattled o’er its toys, Qne smile of thine would difsipate my fears, *And fill my bosom with a thousand joys. Thy winning softnefs and thine artlefs truth, The starting tears from misery have stcle 5 Supplied the buried hufband of my youth, The first and last pofsefsion of my soul. Thou wert that all which fortune had bestow’d, T’ endear this transient and unreal stage; To smooth life’s weary and fatiguing road, And chear alike infirmity and age. What scenes of fancied pleasure would I trace, Thy little race of prattlers to attend ; And pafs the fhort.remainder of my days, A grandchild’s parent, and a daughter’s friend. ‘Delusive dreams!*.return to glad my years 3 O rise again in all your form so fair! Dejection now for happinefs appears, | And grief array’d by solitude ani care, ‘Pardon jus: heav’n!—But where the heart is tern, The human drop of bitternefs will! steal ; Nor can we lose the privilege to mourn, Till we have lost the faculty to feel. VOL. Xi, I # 4 66 \ ‘poetry. , ‘Sept. 12, Religion come! thou sister of the kkies, And quickly lift thy salutary rod ; Nor let this daring argumen: of sighs, : Too boldly tax the justice of my God. ©! make me, then, all-seeing pow’r, resign’d j ; Thy awful fiat humbly to receive ; ! And O! forgive the weaknefs of a mind W hich feels as mortal, and as such must grieve. And you, ye dames! your soft’ning tears employ, You who can paint the sorrows of the blow ; For who that ne’er throbb’d with a mother’s joy, Can guefs the depth, the wildnefs of her woe. W. W. EPITAPH ON LADY AB—R—V—Y. Younes, thoughtlefs, gay, unfortunately fair, Her pride to please, ani pleasure, all her care; With too much kindaefs, and too little art, P.one to indulge the dictates of her hesrt; Flatter’d by all, solicited, admir’d, By women envied, and by men desir’d3 At once from all prosperity fhe’s torn, ‘ By friends deserted, of defence foriorn, t Expos’d to talkers, insulis, want, and scorn. By ev'ry idle tongue her story told, The novel-of the young, the lecture of the old. But let the-scoffer or the prude relate, With rigour-or despight, her haplefs fate, Good nature.still to soft compafsion wrought, Shall weep the ruin, whilst it owns the fault. For if her conduct, in-some steps betray’d, To virtue’s rules too little rev’rence paid; Yet dying still fhe fhow'd (so dear her fame,) She could survive the guilt, though not the thame; Her honour dearer, than her life fhe prov'd, And dearer far than both, the man the lov’d. EPIGRAM. Mon médecin me dit souvent Que trop de vin me tue, Et me defend absolument De toucher les filles nues ; S’il faut renoncer au bon vin, Et des brunes et des blondes, Adieu bon Monsieur médecin! Je part pour autre monde, F. at as B92: on ihe production of nitre. 64 THOUGHTS ON THE PRODUCTION OF NITRE. Frew phenomena have occurred that are more unaccount- abie than those which relate to the production of nitre; and the experiments that have been made on this subject have afforded results extremely different, in circumstances that seemed to be efsentially the same. Hence it hap- pens that the same procefs which produces abundance of nitre in one country, will yield none at all in another, though conducted with equal care. . I have never yet heard of an attempt to account for- this singular peculiarity.. It is in general supposed that nitre is a fofsil production ;. that it is generated in greatest” abundance im fat, vegetable mould, which has been impreg- nated with animal substances; but though rich vegetable mould, impregnated with animal substances, yields nitre “on some occasions in abundance, in others situations it has been found. to.afford none at all.. This seems to af- ford a satisfactory proof that animal impregnation alone is not the efsential circumstance for the production of nitre, Vegetable mould is originally generated by the decay- ing of vegetable substances init. This position I believe wiil not be disputed. If so, as there are a varicty of ve-- getables that pofsefs qualities extremely different from each other, it ought to follow that the soil which has been. generated by the decayed vegetables of one kind, may be very different, in certain respects, from the soil that has been produced by the decomposition of vegetables of an- other clafs, though they may be both equally capable of rearing the common kinds of plants that grow in Europe. Two soils, therefore, may be equally rich, considered as to their vegetative power, which are extremely difsimilar- in other respects, 68 on the production of nitre. . Sept. v2 On this principle I think it is pofsible to. account for the phenomenon already remarked. WNitre may be pro- duced by the decaying of certain plants, and not by others. Some light is thrown upon this subject by the ollowing remarks and experiments, publifhed in the fourth volume of the Memoirs of the Imperial Academy of Sciences and Belles Lettres, of Brufsels, by M. Van Bochaute. ‘ It*is well. known,’ he observes, ‘ that dorrage, bus glofs, parietaria, and sun ower, often contain a good deat of saltpetre ; but this is afforded in still greater quantities by several kinds of chenopodium, as-appears by the follew- ing experiments : ‘Two years ago,’ says he, ‘I made thie analysis of a: plant of the clals pentandria, order digynta, which is calle by some chenopedium ambrosioides Mexicanum, and by others botrys ambrosioides Mexicanum. Having visited the extract made from it in the ba/neum marie, some days af: terwards, we were surprised to find the surface of that extract altogether covered with oblong chrystals, which upon examination with a glafs, we found to be prismatic; like that of the best saltpetre. They detonated when thrown upon a burning coal, and fused. We put some of the exs tract upon a red hot fhovel; it detonated and fused also, ‘leaving behind it a good deal of fixed vegetable alkali. We even went farther: we put some of the dried plant upon the same fhovel; it fused and detonated also. We tried in the same manner the botrys ambrosioides vulgaris, and this plant fused and detonated the same as the Mexz- ana. In fine, we procured the.same plant from different ‘apothecaries, they all fused and detonated equally with the other. From hence, adds he, we have concluded, that these two plants are very nitriferous; and that their conomy is a natural nitrerie, (nitr e work.) This, says ~ 792, : on manufactures: 69 he, is the more certain, as the botrys vulgaris is known ta grow for ordinary, upon a dry sandy soil, which does not appear to contain saltpetre.’ The author recommends these plants to the attention of chemists, as deserving farther investigation. It is expe- rience alone that car ascertain whether these plants could be cultivated with profit only for this. purpose. In the mean while I cannot help thinking it natural to eonclude, that if these plants had long been suffered to be- decomposed in the soil, the mould might. thus. become ims pregnated with saltpetre, from which it may be extracted by a proper procefs. . INTELLIGENCE RESPECTING. ARTS, AND AGRICULTURE: Sheep of Calchis. Cotoxes Fourtervon, so well known for his active exertions - in the military line in India, has, for some time past, be- come a peaceful citizen, applying his active talents to the ymprovement of agriculture and manufactures. About two years ago, he imported from. Colchis that breed of fheep so long famed in ‘story for their fleece. It appears from his experience that this fleece is more to be valued on account of the quantity than the quality of the wool; It is of the long combing sort. The animals themselves are strong made and hardy. Their lambs in particular are found to thrive better, and to fatten more easily, than those of any other breed with which he had. an opportu- nity of comparing them. New improvement in the tron manufacture. He has also discovered an improvement in the procefs of smelting iron, that promises to prove highly beneficial to that manufacture in this country. Its effects are, that it will considerably diminith the quantity of fuel consu- ed improvements in India. - Sept. 22% med in that operation, and consequently lower the ex-- pence of that procefs, the iron coming from the furnace - equally pure after one smelting, as it can be made by the operations now in use, by being smelted twice at least. ‘There is. also reason to believe that the iron will be ren- dered thus softer and more malleable than it now is; as it is well known that metals in general are rendered more brittle the oftener they are fused. The particulars of this procefs will be communicated to the public as soon as. the Editor fhall be authorised to. do so. NOTICES OF IMPROVEMENTS NOW GOING ON IN INDIA. Tue views of Dr Anderson, and the. way in which he. promotes improvements in India, are beautifully illustrated : by the following letters. ra a ae Fobn Braithwaite, to Dr James Anderson, physician: ° general, Madras. Dear Sir, Ererurn you many thanks. for the communication of your farther corréspondence in relation to the silk businefs. I think it promises fair ;: and were we once clear of war and famine, I think would certainly succeed. The times have been, and are against it. We have not hands at present sufficient for agriculture ; the half of these. circars are a desert waste, and in some measure. owing to the great’ manufacture of cloth, which, in proportion to the population of the country, takes too many hands from agriculture. I believe the first great object to attend to in all coun- ° tries, is to procure abundance of food at a cheap rate, which soen creates abundance of people, and when ‘you have abundance of food, and a superabundance of people, then is the time to set on foot, and encourage manutac- tuyes; but I fear in the present state of these countries, let the industry of individuals be what it may, no new 2792. _ improvements in India. “er smanufacture can be, succefstully establifhed ; but, on the -contrary, those so long since established, must decline. -I am, &c. Feb. 19. 1792. From James Anderson, to Colonel Braithwaite, nomena ay the trocps north of the Kistna. ¢ ‘Dasa Sir, I am favoured with your letter of the 19th instant, and it -is with pleasure I acknowledge the receipt of sentiments so conformable to my own, in as far as the arts, agriculture, and commerce, justly’ balanced, are necefsary for the mul- tiplication of our species 5 but you know me better than to suppose I have much expectation of introducing im- :provements, which, from me, can only be received as spe- culations, in the present distrefsful situation of the coun- try. - On the contrary, when you observe the opening] of the _businefs of cultivating silk, under the circumstances of war, “you will acquit me of establithing a new culture under the circumstances of famine, because I have taken care to make allowances for such serious impediments. The whole amounts to this, that as we haye only a certain time to figure on the stage, it occurred that if I did not employ the present moment, the future might es- cape my powers ; and thinking I had something to say, “that at some future period might be converted to utility, I have ventured to engage in the service of posterity. In this view of being useful, I fhall embrace every oppor- tunity of distributing nopals forthe purposes I have mention- ed to government ; and knowing that you pofsefs the same laudable disposition, you will not be surprised that I send you some by every tappal for your garden, and the silk when you are better able to receive it. I am, Oe. Fort St. George, Feb. 26. 1792. From Fames Anderson to Nathaniel Webb esq. Dear Sir, As I understood there was a famine in your circar, I did ‘not presume to trouble you with the eggs of silk. worms -in the late cold season, when they might have been safely 72 improvements in India.” Sept. 12, conveyed to even a greater distance, under cover of a letter ; for it is needlefs to suppose that they are bruised “when we every day see those eggs that get addled, from: any cause whatever, soon flatten and cones without any -external prefsure. I know 'that'there are mulberry trees ‘enough in your -district to supply leaves.for .a large investment of silk, but the distrefs of the inhabitants I am truly sensible must have involved you in an infinite-deal of trouble and anxiety. * I will only observe that nothing appears to me so well calculated to obviate the frequent repetition of such weighty calamities as a diversity of employment for the Jower Clafses of the people. > No real attempts having ever been made to better the natives; and their whole subsistence consisting of grain, which ie only be raised by rain happening to fall at cer- tain stated seasons, it is obvious that if we can enable ‘them, by the circulation of cafh, which must attend the culture of silk, to purchase grain from other countries when ‘their own crop fails, we fhall render an efsential service to the human race here. I will not farther obtrude on your cares, than to tell ‘you, that whenever you are sufhciently disengaged, Mr Binny, or Mr Roxburgh, will supply you with eggs; or, ~which is much nearer you, Mr Haliburton at Vizagapatnam, +o whom I mean to forward some in a few days; and yout establifhing the Bungalo will at least savea dozen children ‘from being starved. Iam, dc. Fort St. George, Feb. 15. 1792. From Robert Andrews to James Anderson esq. Dear Sir, Tuave been favoured with your letter, forwarding a supply of silk worm eggs, for which I beg you to accept my ‘thanks ; my family have encreased much, and continue te multiply very fast. The late heavy rains, however, have caused the death “of many hundred worms, which I conceive may proceed -in some degree from, the dampnefs of the walls. of the | ee S E992, unprovements in India. "3 house, which are made of mud, in which the worms are~ kept. i am yet very unsuccefsful in the businefs of winding off the silk, although I have lately acquired a third person who was exprefsly sent, as he says, by Tippoo to Bengal, to perfect himself in this branch of the businefs. He says the silk is of a much slighter texture than that which he has been used to wind off, either in Bengal, or the Mysore country ; and the silk weavers who have attended two or. three generations of the worms, under me, observe, that the silk first produced by the worms was much stronger than ' that which they now yield. ; -If in your power to instruct me in this very materiat _ point, I fhall esteem myself much obliged, for without it -my zeal in the farther prosecution of the businefs will be »much damped. I remain, &’c. -Tritchinopoly, Nov. 29. 1791. From Dr Fames Anderson to Robert Andrews, esq. “Sir, Ir will be a wretched businefs indeed, if, after having done so much, your. zeal fhould slacken on. the observance of a - circumstance which all the world knows, that the silk worm is injured by damp and wet. In Europe there is but-one crop a-year, and you see by Mr Glafs’s letter they have only three good crops in Ben- gal; yet here, the climate is so much more favourable be- tween 70 and 100 degrees of heat, that the worms pafs through seven or eight evolutions, and yield more good - crops than in either of those countries. The silk of my last breed on the setting in of the rains, _ was like yours, much worse than ever I had seen it ; never- thelefs I made the boys wind it off as well as they could, _and the silk weaver has twisted it into excellent thread, of which I am making a purse. It is not only the damp and wet, but a foul air is like- wise generated. thereby, which kills the worms; and, as they _ decline in health, the quality of the silk is affected. How- ever, although the rains have continued in a more violent degree than has been known for many years bypast, by ‘directing a greater attention to the neatnefs and airing “MOL. Xi, K tT 94 improvements in India. Sept: 12: of the house in which they are, although likewise walled with mud, my present breed are periectly healthy, and now spinning the most beautiful cocoons; I therefore trust that you will not be discouraged, but depend on a zeal and attention like yours, being crowned with: uncommon succefs. I have found nets to fhift the worms from their litter, very convenient and useful, as it is only necefsary to lay the net upon the worms, and’ frefk leaves upon the net; and as soon as they have fastened on the leaves, to remove them with the net to a clean bafket. In this way one person willdo more, in clearing the worms from litter, and with greater ease, than twenty~ could, be- fore the nets came into use. I am, Ue. Fort St George, Dec. 1791- ———— Dr Yames Anderson, to the honourable Sir-Charles Oakeley, bart. acting governor, and council, Madras, HonovuraBe Sirs, Tuat you may not be insensible to the close attention so delicate a matter as the establifhment- of a silk manu- facture requires, have the honour to inclose-a letter from Mr Andrews at Tritchinopoly, with my answer I have likewise the pleasure to tell you, that captain Mackay at Arnee, is winding silk oma reel, which I sent him by a native who can use it;—and understand: that Captain Flint still preserves the breed: of. worms which J sent Mr Anderson at Tiagar, as before-stated. The eggs distributed during the late hot season have hatched at several stations, as far as Palamcotta to the south, and Ganjam to the north, but lost. again for want of accommodation. You will see by Mr Andrews’ letter, that mud walls are affected by rain; but I have devised a method which suits the nature of the worms in this climate all seasons of the year, and of the most easy construction, being no other than an extensive roof, supported on pillars, and walled round with bamboo matting, which is sufficient to break the force of high winds, without preventing the paf- sage and circulation of air. W402. plan for reheving the blind. iG A bungalo of this sort, in my gaiden, seventy feet in ‘Tength, and fifty in breadth, is now employed with every ‘advavtage ; and contains a complete establifhment, as T thave placed in it an upper servant, with a dozen children aunder ‘his direction, a schoolmaster to teach the chil- dren to.read, write, and keep accounts, and a silk wea- ver. ‘Some-ocf the children are not more than three years old, and yet they feed the worms, and remove them from their litter, with the utmost care and attention,—so prevalent is the force of imitation on innocent minds. The businefs of managing the worms, and winding the silk, requires no farther attention from me; as the latter ds so well executed, that the silk weaver has reeled it off again, on bobbins, and spun it into thread. ‘I therefore recommend ‘that. you cause a similar lodge- ‘ment to be erected, anda similar establithment made, at every one of the mulberry plantations; although I am sorry to observe a total neglect of the wells of water, the attention to which I so earnestly recommended. Iam, Ue.. Fort St» George, Dec. 6. 1751: To be continued occasionally. A PLAN FOR RELIEF OF THE INDIGENY BLIND. The following plan for affording relief to a numerous lefs of men, who _ are incapable of earning their bread in the common way, seems to be so well calculated for effecting the objects in view, that the Editor most chearfully lends his aid to render it ‘2s generally knuwn Sept. 12, cumstances than to live in constant darknefs; to want daily bread; to have no friend to give them lodgiag or support ; and to be obliged to have recourse to begging for the mere necefsaries of life ? Can those who enjoy the inestimable blefsings of sight, reflect for.a moment on such a forlorn condition, and not have their gratitude ‘awakened, and all their tender feelings excited ? Can any thing pofsibly be done, to alleviate the affliction of those of their fellow creatures who are deprived of sight; and who would not be happy to contribute towards it? Must it not be the most sublime pleasure which the mind can feel, to administer to the comfort of so unfortunate a clafs of the human species ? Institutions have been set on foot in different places, both at home and abroad, for the re~ lief of the inpIGENT BLIND; and it is proposed to establith something of the same kind in the city of Edinburgh, which, it is not doubted, will meet with universal appro- - bation, and to which numbers orly with for an opportuni-:- ty to contribute, Three objects are to be aimed at in affording relief to » the poor blind: is/, to furnifh them with some employ- ment which may prevent them from being a burden to sociey : 2dly, that the employment be such, as gently to engage the mind, without fatiguing it, and by diverting their at- tention, to make them lefs a burden to themselves: and, 3dly, that they be taught the principles of the Christian religion, which are so nobly adapted to afford consolation ‘under their hard lot, and to render them easy and con- tented. = ‘Yo answer these benevolent views, it is proposed to open a school for instructing the blind in music, if they fhall be found capable of learning it; and for teaching all ef them the art of making whips, or some branch of the 1792. plan for relieving the blind. hed cotton or linen manufactory, and instructing them in the - doctrines and duties of Christianity. As many may be disqualified, by age and infirmity, from learning any of these arts, and are incapable of doing any thing for their subsistence, it is proposed to afford them some pecuniary aid; in the distribution of which, particular attention will be paid to the moral ‘character of the objects. As soon as a fund can: be raised, an advertisement fhall be inserted in the newspapers, to call the indigent blind of this city and suburbs together, and afk which of them will accept the offer; and to distribute them into clafses of learners of music, learners of mechanic arts, and such.as are disqualified for any art. That several rooms be engaged, one for the blind to be instructed in music, and the rest for those who are: taught the other arts. ; That those be selected. who are likely to learn music, in such a degree as to earn their bread by it, or to teach others. That spinets and fiddles be hired, during one’ quarter, for the blind to practise in their own houses, and “a piano forte be procured for the room in which they are taught : after the first quarter, that spinets and fiddles be purcha- sed for as many as are found capable of making proficien- cy, to be lent them till they have learnt their art, and then to be given them. ‘That when they are thoroughly instructed in music, and begin to gain a livelihood by it, it is proposed to give them a suit of clothes, and decent linen. That some person who lives in family with the blind be taught to read and write music, "8 plan for relieving the blind. Sept. 125- That the masters who are so generous as to offer their” labour graizs, be paid something for their trouble ; and it is to be hoped that that pay will increase, when the good. effects of the institution are seen. That the musical pupils be likewise taught some me- chanical employment, as an agreeable variety, and that they may earn something during the time they are learn- ing music. That all the blind be taught church music who are capable of it ; and it is proposed to havea sermon annu- ally for the support of the charity, when the blind musi- cians and singers will display to their benefactors, their musical proficiency. That the blind be supplied with work. by the managers of the institution; who are to pay to each artificer the whole gains arising from his labcur. That the most diligent receive rewards as an encourages ment, such as clothes, d'c. : That prayers be composed for the use of 28 blind, adapted to their peculiar situation; and that they be taught these prayers, and other duties, every Saturday :. that seats be provided for them, in one of the churches,- where they may atten’ divine worthip. That after learning their trades for six months, the blind be incorporated into a society, each of whom is to con- tribute twopence weekly from his gains, as a provision for himself in old age or sicknefs ; that he may, when sixty years old, or disabled by disease, receive three or four fhillings weekly, as the alsociation box will afford. By an example of this kind, it is hoped that those lazy sloth. — f.1 poor, who enjoy the sense of seeing, and yet choose. to live meanly on common alms, will be covered with flame, and excited to industry. ¢ 792. plan for rehevrng the blind. 73 - "That an annual report be made- of the expenditure of ‘the money, and the good effected during the year; and _ when the institution is establifhed,.that their proceedings ‘be publithed. That the money collected be laid out on proper secu- rity, and trustees appointed for the management of it. Fhis establifhment is intended for relief to the young= est of the blind, as soon as they can learn music, which pethaps may be at nine or ten years of age ;—to the middle aged, by teaching them. some art by which to en- tertain their minds, and to gain an honest living ;—and to the old, who are unable to learn-any thing, by aiford- ‘ing them some afsistance in clothes and money. One teat object of the institution-isto attend to the morals of the blind of all ages, especially the young. Of late, an institution of this kind-has been founded at Liverpool, where forty-three blind poor, of keth sexes, have been engaged in different branches of manufactures; sad earn, weekly, from 3s. to 6s. each. They appear very happy in this new method of spending their time. Eight are employed in making hunting, jockey, and ladies whips, which are sold for the benefit. of the charity : thir- teen blind women spin linen yarn, and reel it; another, totally blind from infancy, cuts out the-cloth into thirts, fheets, and sacks, and makes it up: four blind girls and a _ boy learn to play upon the harpsichord ; two make woollen ". mops; eight old people pick oakhum for caulking hhips ; | six make bafkets and hampers, and cover bottles for ex- > portation ; and two make rope bears. Thusa clafs of 3 our fellow-creatures, who were burdensome to their friends or the public, and unhappy because unemployed, are ren- dered useful members of society, and made happy in them- _ sSelves, by being relieved from extreme poverty; and *Ba ‘to correspondents. ‘Sept. 126 what is worse than poverty, that languor and wearinefs of life, which must infest minds that are vacant, or em- ployed only in brooding over their own misfortunes, FO CORRESPONDENTS, T ue observations of Timothy Tlunderproof are received, and fhall appear as soon as Convenient. The interesting communication by. W. Wis come to hand, and fhald have a place in due course. If the author could supply the date of the letter, and the name of the place ‘where written, it would re: nder it still more valuable, ‘The other paper fhall be sent as desired, with some prie vate notices concerning it. The Editor regrets that the elaborate performance with the signature Antipben does not suit his miscellany. It will be left at the Office till called for. Rusticus is.rather too harfh in some of his exprefsions. _ His efsay pof- sefses merit; and if put into-a more engaging drefs it fhall have a place, The spirited letter of W. S+ fhould certainly have had a place very early, were not the Editor determined to avoid altercation and long dis- putes. He agrees entirely with the writer, in thinking thatit is prema- ture to form a judgement, at present, as to the events to which his Ictier relates. It will be time enough to decide.on the tendency of the measures now going forward after these troubles fhall subside, when some light may clear up the chaotic mafs which is in such high agitation at present. At that time, or on any other subject, the Editor will ns glad of this gentle- man’s correspondence. The verses by Marina are too defective in their staat drefs for publi- cation, Why did not the friend of this young writer revise the lines, which are not destitute of merit, before they were sent away ? The Editor is much obliged to a Shoemaker for his obliging verses ; but they are too highly complimentary for publication. The lines by Zachary Boyd are received. That kind of burlesque dogs ; mot suit the views of the Editor, ; \ ‘93: THE BEE, ae” OR EITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR WEDNESDAY, SEPTEMBER IQ 1792. AN ACCOUNT OF THE SOCIETY OF ARCADIA AT ROME. By ABBE TOURNER. Continued from vol. x. p. 200. Tw the republic of Arcadia, as in every other esta- biifhment calculated for the regulation ofhumanaffairs, experience discovered defects that were not foreseen. Great care had been taken to render the laws of Ar- eadia as stmple and perfect as pofsible ; and it was hoped they would have tended to preserve unanimity among the fhepherds for along time; but this was soon found to be impofsible. As the progrefs of this society exhibits, in miniature, a very exact pic- ture of what may be expected to occur in every other undertaking of the same sort, in which reguiations, -at first simple and easy, become complicated and dif_-. enlt of execution, it will not prove unentertaining ‘to trace it step by step, with a careful discrimination of circumstances, VOL. x1. L : + 82 Society of arcadia. Sept. 19- In virtue of the first law, every Arcadian has a right to bring his complaints before the general af. : sembly ; but to avoid tumults it was agreed, that the complaint fhould be given in first to the custode, who was obliged to read it in the geaeral af- sembly, although it fhould contain things against himself. All anonymous papers are rejected; only those are minded which are signed by the recurrent himself, and if the affair be of consequence; things of small importance are verbally received by the custode. However, as it did happen sometimes that indivi- duals carried complaints, and had recourse to the community, without pafsing through the channel of the custode,.disputes hence have arisen ; and often the meeting broke up without any other conclusion, but the alienation of their former reciprocal affec- tion. The choice of a custode, mentioned in the second law, has several times given rise to disputes. Some pretended that at the end of each olympiad a new custode fhould be created, and that he might be re- moved even before the olympiad was out. The au- thority of the custode has been likewise contested ; he being sometimes accused of being too arbitrary, at other times teo negligent, at others too ambitious. The constant practice has been that. the custode is obliged at the end of the olympiad to lay down his employment, consign the seal of the afsembly, and the keys ofthe Basco Parrasio to the oldest of the Ar- cadians then present, and dives: himself of all autho- rity, until, by secret ballot. it fha!! appear whether the same custode is to be chosen again or .emoved. - £792 Soctety of Arcadia. 83: But the greatest blow the tranquillity of Arcadia ever had, was on account of the interpretation of the third law, in regard to the election of the colleagues, At the beginning of the institution of the Arcadia,. the custos alone regulated all the businefs of the af- sembly ; the number of the Arcadians increasing he’ called for an afsistant, and the community decreed he might depute two sotto custodi at his pleasure. But even these two not being sufficient to undergo the trouble of giving intimation to the fhepherds, or of going about to collect their opinions for the regu- lation of such businefs as might daily occur, the ge- -neral meetings not being at that time very frequent, the custode was authorised to choose twelve of the most steady and most experienced Arcadians, to be changed every year, under the name of wie custod? ; each of which was to direét a certain- number of Arca-. dians, who, divided as it were into centurie, depended on the regulations of their centurion.. At pro.custode was besides: added to the custode, who- might. afsist him:in his daily labours, act for him, and represent him in case of illnefS, absence, or any other urgency that might hinder him from. attending to his employ- ment. It was afterwards thought fit to subrogate the colleagues to: the vice custodi, which latter title was bestowed upon the person who presided over any of the colonies. Alfesibeo, strictly to adhere to the letter of the law, i orbem eligito, &c. took six ot the wice custodi of that year to act.as old colleagues, and named six new ones. It had been thus practised: for four olympiads, when, in the year 4711, on the. 15th of June, afterthe publication of the new six col- , e@ 84 society of Arcadia. Sept. tgs. leagues, Eulibio Brenteatico( Paolo Relli*,)ayoung man: of great vivacity, who had acquired much fame both:in. the public rehearsals, andin singing poetical composi- tions extempore, rose up against the custode, pretend- ing he had not fulfilled the law, because amongst the six new colleagues, some had been named; who had held that employment before. The complaint was neglected at first, as inconsistent with the consue- tude; but Eulibio insisting, and a strong party form=. ing in his favour; in order to adhere to what is or- dered in the sanction of the laws, the opinion was atked of three experienced Arcadians, for the purpose of directing the general afsembly to a more certain: determination. These were Opico Erimantéo, (Gra- * Pacls Rullia few-years after left Rome. A cardinal. who- was, his; friend, sent to invite him to drink chocolate with him one morning ; af- ter talking of several things, the cardinal beg2n to persuade Ro/fi that he fhould change air on account of his health. The poet was much surpri- sed at this discqurse, and much more oa the cardinal’s insisting on his going to another country for the benefit ofthe air, as he never had enjry~ ed better healch. However, considering that the cardinal belonged to the Inguisition, and that his.conscience reproached: him for having uttered with imprudence, seme free propositions in regard to. religion, Rol/i tok. the hint that kis good friend had withed to give him, without revealing the inviolable secret of the Inguisition, immediately left Rome, and came over to Ergland, where he was perhaps the first man of letters that under- took teaching Italian, and, if I were to except Vincenzo Martinelli, per- haps, I might almost say the last. While in England Rolli made. an elegant translation of Milton’s Paradise lost into Italian blank verse. Iam no strarger to-the fame’ that Barretti has acquired’among a few; but Iam rot, because of this, disposed to alter’ the above opinion. For this sufficient reasons. might be afsigned, were the subject deemed woy~ thy of the attention of the reader; or were it not an ungracious tafk te. point out the faults of any one. From these considerations I forbear to enlarge, though to. have said Jefs, I fhould have thought, would be blame- able. , oe 2g “yy92? society of Arcadia. , winz) Cersildo Adfejo, ( Avvocate Antoio Collorctit, 5 -and Mirtilo Dianidio, (Dr Pier Facopo Marteilo,) who gave their opinion in favour of the plaintifis,, “however, the general afsembly having examined the reasons on both sides rejected this opinion, and order- ed, that what had been customary fhould be observed. Perhaps it may be thought that the desire, in some, of being distinguithed by ‘iad rank of colleague, was the cause of this tumult, and of the schism that fol- lowed ; and. A/fesibeo took great pains. to make it ap- pear so in the narration he has introduced of it in his work, Stato della Basihca di S. Maria in Uosme- din, &c.; but these disturbances are to be traced from an entirely different source. Alfesibea, with the approbation of the general af- sembly, having compiled the laws, which were put. into Latin by Opico, the commifsion was given to the latter to prepare a Latin oration to be repeated on the occasion of the promulgation of the laws. He eould not avoid fhewing it to the custode, who thought that Opico had made use of some exprefsions, which »seemed to import that he not only was. the author of the Latin version, but likewise of the compilation of the laws. It was therefore read in the general at sembly, who. ordered seyeral corrections, which Opico promised to fulfil; but when the day came for the promulgation of the laws, he repeated it with- out any of the proposed alterations.. This behavi- our of Opico displeased not only the custode, but the greatest part of the Arcadians. . The misuaderstand- ing increased, when a few days after, Opica distribue ted his Latin Opuseu/a, amongst which were the laws 86 society of Arcadia. Sept. 19s. of Arcadia, followed by the oration, with the title,. * ¥. Vincentit Gravinae, inter Arcades Opict Eryman- thaet, pro legibus Arcadum oratio ;?. which he several times reprinted without ever changing any thing, as if it had been admitted by the afsembly. In consequence of such proceedings the college newly instituted called Opico to give an account, who not ' being able to deny any circumstance that was laid to-his charge, promised to make a new edition of the oration, to: which he was to prefix a declaration that the laws. were not his: production, and that he only drefsed them in the Latin garb. This declaration was pre- sented by him, and is still to be seemin the serbat ofa: or register office of Arcadia. The custode and the college were: satisfied with the readinefs of Opico ;- but whether it was involuntary neglect or determi-. ned contumacy, it seemed. he never more thought: of it ; moreover, whenever he talked of the laws-of Ar= eadia with his friends, he always hinted his being the: author of them, and he explicitly says it in a letter. to Orildo Berenteatico, ( Marchese Scipione Maffet. )- These disagreements, by little and little, alienated. the minds of Opico and Alfesibeo, so that: there- was. ‘not any longer between them the former cordiality. It may be added to all this, that the authority of cus-. tode having increased, so as to-have become in the: epinion of sevetal a reputable place, many began to. aim at it; nor was every one pleased that. there may pofsibly be some animal of the fith kind _ endowed with the power of existing during a long -_ period of dry weather in the earth; and that they vp ond 54 on the generatien of fijses: Sept. 19s buried themselves in that earth as the water gradual-- ly wasted away, where they remained concealed till! the return of water brought them from their lurking: places. It ts well-known, that, in Europe, eels. have been ‘known to exist a considerable time in stiff” mud, where no water was to be perceived > and ‘there is a sea fifh uf the fhark tribe, often caught: by the natives of the western isles of Scotland, there walled S/iud hive, which has the power of existing for a long while without any water. It is a very- c common practice to carry these fifth home alive,. aad put them in a corner ofthe house where peat for” fuel is kept, and in which place there is usually a. large heap of loose dry peat earth, thathas crumbled: ‘down in time, which they call peat drofs., Into this place they throw the fith, which bury themselves in the drofs, and there continue alive till the family have occasion to use them as. food, when they are gradually tcken out as wanted, and drefsed for table. Yhese fith I myself actually saw alive in that situa- tion in the house of John Czmpbell, esq; of Jura: I was told they would thus live for several months. _ Others have supposed that there may be some animal: of the fith kind, capable of existing for a long period ef suspended animation, in certain circumstances, si-- milar to what we know does actually happen with the beaver, marmotte, and some other terrestrial ani-- mals in Europe, If so, these animals, they think,.- might remain torpid during the dry season in Endia, as our animals do during the co/d season in En-. rope; and being endowed with a similar instinct, they might prepare for the change by burying theme. — Z7g2. ‘on the seneration of fijbess - op selves deep in the ground, in nests formed for the ‘purpose. Snails we know haye the singular power of «continuing in life for many years. The antmals though kept in a cabinet perfectly dry, and apparent- dy dead during the whole time, yet recover life when placed in circumstances favourale for it. ; These hypotheses are ingenious ; but how far ei- ther of them are just, remains to be proved; one great objection however occurs to both of them, vz. if these animals did actually bury themselves, and remain in the earth during the dry season, it must happen that they would often be found in that kind of torpid state in the carth. Inno country of the ‘world is the surface mould more apt to be examined ‘than in India, where the businedfs of digging tanks is so generally and universally practised, on a very large scale; and as these tanks will naturally be dug in the hollow places, where the fifh would most abound, it must happen that their nests would thus be frequent- Jy discovered during these operations, if such did real. ly,exist. But none of my informants liad ever heard of any thing of this sort. - j Another way in which we taigtie suppose it paf- sible that'this phenomenon could be produced, 1s, that if fifh by any accident fhould once be brought into these povls, which we can conceive might happen in innu- merable ways, and supposing the spawn of these ani- mals, like the seeds of plants, or theeggs of insects, to re- “main withoutlife until circumstances became favourable for their germinating, it might so happen that the spawn Ber ich was emitted immediately before the dry wea- poner set in, being left deprived of the necefsary mois- 95 on the generation of fijbes. Sept. 19» cure during the dry season, might retain its germi- ‘nating quality, so as to become young fifh on the first fall of the rain, as the silk worm’s egg in the nor- thern parts of Europe hatches immediately on being exposed to the heat of the summer’s sun. In this case nothing would be wonderful but the sudden growth of the filh toa size fit to be eaten, in so fhort a.time after the rainy weather sets in. But as we know that, even in Europe, the growth of a young salmon, at a certain period, is amazingly rapid when compared with most other animals, and as vegeta- tion in India during the rainy season, far exceeds eny thing we here experience, we can form an idea of animal growth being, in certain circumstances, proportionally rapid. According to this hypothe- sis there seems to be nothing contradictory to the usual course of nature at least, and nothing that could be deemed to approach towards the miraculous. On this supposition, however, one difficulty re- quires to be removed. In this case it must happen, ‘that when the pools of water are dried up, the fifth which had not been caught must be found left dead upon the surface of the ground. And, in some cases, un- lefs the natives be peculiarly afsiduous in catching them, these must then be thus found in considerable quantities. My informants took no notice of this circumstance. ; In fhort, we in Europe may form conjectures on this subject ; but it is those who are in India only who can observe the facts. I thall therefore deem it a particular favour if any gentleman in India, inte whose hands this may fall, will have the goodnels to E792. ‘miscellaneous obseryations. 97 “state the facts as distinctly as pofs_ole, and to explain the circumstances that may probably have given rise ‘to the opinion, if it fhall be found to be erroneous ; -or if it be true that fifh be really caught in these circumstances, it will be accounted singularly obli- ging, if the kind, or kinds of fifh, thus found, be enu- merated, their size and natural history, as far as it is known, given; and, if pofsible, figures of these ani- mals. Itis highly probable that when all matters are fairly stated, much of what appears wonderful in this narrative will disappear. MISCELLANEOUS OBSERVATIONS. Str, To the Editor of the Bee. Iy one of your late numbers we were favoured by your correspondent Albanicus with an elaborate pa- negyric on profefsor Stuart’s elements of the philofophy of the human mind. The panegyric however was not more elaborate than juft; if Socrates was preferable to all his predecefsors in science, chiefly becaufe he laboured to turn the attention of speculative men from obstruse inquiries, which few understand, and in which few were interested, to the businefs and manners of common life, much of the same merit be- longs to Mr Stuart. “More than one of his cotempo- raries perhaps may vie with him in profundity of thought, in accuracy of discrimination, and in beauty , of arrangement; but I know not that I have ever ‘ead a metaphysical writer so generally intelligible, ‘and so fraught with ingenious observations, equally instructive to the philosopher, the politician, the merchant, the mechanic, and even to the farmer, VOL. Xl. N + oh miscellaneous observations. Sept. 19. Among a number that might be selected, the follow- ing remarks on the ‘ effects produced on the memory by committing to writing an acquired knowledge,’ appear to me to deserve the atttention of every rea- der of your ufeful miscellany. ‘ The utility of writing, in enabling one genera- tion to transmit its discoveries to another, and in thus giving rise to a gradual progrefs of the species, has been sufficiently illuftrated by many others, Little _ attention however has ‘been paid to another of its ef- fects, which is no lefs important; I mean to the foun- dation which it lays for a perpetual progrefs in the. intellectual powers of the individual. ‘ It is to experience, and to our own ‘teflections, that we are indebted for the moft valuable part of our knowledge; and hence it is, that although in youth the imagination may be more vigorous, and the genius more original than in advanced years, yet in the case of aman of observation and inquiry, the judgement may be expected, at least as long as his faculties remain in perfecticn, to become every day sounder and more enlightened. It is, however, only by the constant practice of writing, that the results ef our experience, and the progrefs of our ideas, cat be accurately recorded. If they are trusted mere- ly to the memory, they will gradually vanifh from it like a dream, ‘or will come in time to be so blended with the suggestions of imagination, that we thall not be able to reason from them with any degree of con- fidence. What improvements in science might we not flatter ourselves with the hopes of accomplifhing, had we only activity and industry to treasure up every plausible hint that occurs tous! Hardly a day ¥70%. miscellaneous observations. 99 pafses, when many such do not occur to ourselves, oF are suggested by others ; and detached and insulated, as they may appear at present, some of them may perhaps afterwards, at the distance of years, furnish the key-stone of an important system.’ To the truth and importance of these observations, the experience of every thinkisg person, in every station of life, will bear ample testimony ; at least I must confefs that many hints have occurred to me, which, by having neglected to commit them at the instant to writing, I have now irrecoverably lost, and “which yet I would give a great deal to recal. The profefsor, as ,was natural, instances particularly the improvements in sctence which might be expected from treasuring upevery plausible hint which occurs, or is suggested to us ;, but I think it is obvious that equal improvements might be expected from the same practice in every useful art of life. _ It is recorded of one of the most learned divines and eloquent preachers of the last century, that his method of composing his weekly discourses was, after every sermon, to revolve upon the ensuing subject ; that being done, to pursue the course of study in which he was engaged, and to reserve the clofe of the week for the provision for -next Saturday. By this practice not only a constant progrefs was made in science, but materials were unawares gained into the immediate future week. For he said, be the sub- jects treated of ever so distant, somewhat will infal- libly fall in conducive to the present purpose. Were the farmer, the mechanic, the tradesman, ‘Je. to adopt a practice somewhat similar to this, it is not perhaps easy to be conceived how great ime 106 miscellaneous observations. Sept. tgs provements might be made by each in his proper de-. partment. When a man is engaged, howeyer eager-- ly, in a particular pursuit, ideas will sometimes dart into his mind, which thongh but slightly related to the present subject, may be striking in themselves,. and may lead to important discoveries. Of these no ‘immediate use can be made, because a wise man will- never interrupt a regular train of thought in order to- trace detached ideas through all their pofsible conse- quences. They must therefore be thrown aside till a time of,more leisure; and if they be not committed: to a safer repository than the retentive memory, they~ are not likely to be found when they fhall be next: wanted. Thus evident is the advantage which would result to» every individual from the practice of committing such thoughts to writing; but instead of recommending the general use of common place books,. which when properly kept are indeed valuable companions, I could with that THE BEE were occasionally employed for this purpose. The man of science, the farmer, the manu- facturer, or the mechanic, who fhould send to your miscellany such plausible hints as at the time of their occurring to him he was not at leisure to pur- sue, might afterwards, by means of your accurate in- dexes, find them as easily as if they had been reposi- ted in his own manuscript. He would thus fully obey the profefsor’s excellent directions for his own improvement, and would at the same time contribute to the improvements of others. By making his com- ‘mon place book public, he would render it more use~ ful even to himself, than it could be if exposed to no eye but his own. To you, Sir, I need not say how rvQ2. miscellaneous observations. ror apt we all are to over-rate the importance of such hints as occur to ourselves, and in consequence to waste our time in barren pursuits. By adopting the method which I have ventured to recommend, this mis- chief would be in a great measure prevented, as the real value of our hints would be ascertained by judges lefs partial than the fond discoverers. I am, te. iG: A*, ON BEES. Str, ~ To the Editor of the Bee. Havine in a former letter endeavoured. to exprefs my admiration of the good taste, hardihbood, and criti- eal abilities of your Old Correspondents, permit me now to say a few words to the Young Observer. He talks very plausibly, and, I doubt not, his observa- tions are in general very juft. But I am of opinion he has not paid due attention to the bees (see vol. vi. page 253, tc.) I would like to know how he earned that the bees fall into a torpid state in winter. From what he says of the hedge hog, €%c. it appears he allows animals in a torpid state take no food. Bats and swallows, when found in a torpid state, are mo- * The Editor is much obliged to the ingenious author for the above hints, which perfectly coincide with his own ideas. Should he find that his correspondents take the hint, he will appropriate a part of the Bee to that purpose, under the title of the miscellaneous repository, and ‘ake care to specify the particulars in the index as distinctly as pofsible. Still farther to forward this object, fhould he find it meet with the approbation of the public, he will publifh at the end of every three years, a connected index of the preceding -igheen volumes, to be distributed gratis to the pur- chasers of these volumes. This will tend to correct one of the greatest defects of a common place book, the difficulty of finding a particular ar~ ticle when it is wanteds #, - Yer on bees. Sept. Tg tionlefs and apparently without life. In a house in my neighbourhood, a bat, in its torpid state, in January” fell down among fome clothes, and being taken up, and carefully laid up among some tow in a conveni- ent place, it continued in its torpid state, and with- out food near three months, and revived some time in April, and was then set at liberty. But the bees, I apprehend, are never in a torpid state in this sense. They cannot bear the winter’s cold without a cover, and therefore are crowded together in their hives,, and have little room to dance and play; but they hum I suppose, except in the night when they are afleep, and feed in the winter upon the provision stored up by their induftry insummer. A hive, it is supposed, cannot be kept safely through winter, that does not. weigh upwards of thirty-two pounds, of which the hive (scape) weighs but six pounds; and besides consuming | this provision, they must be fed in the spring if the severe weather continues long. It is a common saying, in Forfarfhire, and perhaps in other places, that the bees sing on Christmas morning ; this, however, is probably no more than they do every morning. On last Christmas morning IJ desired some to listen to the song of the bees ; and though there was a severe storm, they told they heard them hum very distinct- ‘ly. To answer the Young Observer’s queries con- cerning bees, therefore; would, I think, be building on the baselefs fabric of a vision*. YACKSTROTTE. * T fhould suspect that the doubt will be, whether the opinion of the Young Observer or Mr Yackstrotte, be the greatest vision. Many things that have been long generally admitted as facts, I know have been found to be false ;—perhaps the sleep of the bees, during cold weather in win- T9902. ‘reply to Misobrontes. 163 ‘Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. dy your Bee for 25th July last, I have.read an answer to my efsays by Misobrontes. JI do not intend to give him a reply at this time, which does not arise from any dread of your correspondent, any disrespect for your readers, or any want of personal gratitude to yourself, for your long and patient insertion of my trifles,—another reasonis satisfactory. For sometime past I have beenengagedin collecting, enlarging, and reprinting some of these letters, with many additions, and several other efsays which had never appeared be- fore, and the whole will be advertised in a few days, ina large pamphlet, intituled, The political progre/s of Britain. Of this you fhall have a copy, that if you judge any pafsages worth an extract, they mey at your conveniency be taken. For the literary property of the work is of no consequence to me, providing that I can difseminate my ideas, and convince my country- men of the madnefs and stupidity of the war system. In this performance your friend will see so many additional, and, as I believe, unanswerable arguments, as may perhaps stagger him. I am sorry to see that Misobrontes has inadver- tently quoted two or three pafsages as mine which are “ter, may be one of these, But more accurate experiments than this ad- duced by our correspondent, will be required to overturn this general opi- nion. I will be glad to have this matter more fully elucidated by any of | my readers who have had, or who may have, opportunities of making ex- periments on this interesting subject. Pethaps those in Rufsia, and other northern continental countries, who find more profit in rearing bees than we do, will be able to ascertain this question in a more satisfactory man- ner than canbe done in Britain. From the manaer.in.which Yackstrotte writes, it is very evident he is not deeply versant in the management of bees, Edit. TOR reply to Misobrontes. Sept. 1g» . ‘the fruits of his own inaccuracy. 1 employ this ex- prefsion because I am unwilling, and unauthorised to charge him with any settled intention to deceive. In my second letter, when speaking of James I. T have faid, ‘* had it been pofsible that the life of such ‘“* a prince, and the tranquillity of this country, could «¢ have been prolonged to the present day, it is be- ‘¢ yond the power of Britifh vanity to conceive the «* accumulated progrefs of Britifh opulence.” When this sentence is to be quoted by Misobrontes, he first mangles and interlines it, and then perverts it to a different meaning. I fhall not take up your time by quoting him, as the paper is already in the hands of your readers. Again, he charges me with saying that lord Cha- tham was ** the worst minister that ever any nation ** was cursed with.” I never said or thought any such thing ; to quote falsely is perhaps the worst in- firmity that any author was ever cursed with. I said, and I adhere to my afsertion, that ‘“* with a more de- ‘¢ structive minister, no nation was ever cursed ;” that is to say, that no minifter ever spent public mo- ney faster. “But to call him the most prodigal of statesmen, or the worst of ministers, was a piece of folly reserved for Misobrontes. Again, he accuses me with terming ‘* Walpole the ‘¢ best of ministers.”” He is himself the first person that ever said so. Lairencekirk, Sept. 3. 1792. ® The Editor will admit a reply from Misobrontes if he desires it, if fhort and written with moderation ; and here he hopes the altercation will end. Timotuy THUNDERPROOF *, POETRY. THE KING’S BIRTH DAY AT AVON PRINTFIELD, 1792. For the Bee. Lixe ither bards right fain I'd sing The great birth day o” Britain’s king; But that it will me right sair ding I’ve cause to fear 5 For book-lear’d chaps wi high flown wing Sings’t ilka year. When Musie kend o’ the affair, She grew as mad as a March hare; Quo’ fhe ye are haff daft an’ mair, Ye senselefs coof; That subject’s worn, just as thread bare ’S a body’s loof. Gie o’er your sang, continued the, An dinna ye affront me sae; Gleg Burns, an twa three bardies mae, The theme wad hit; But you, ye hardly kena B Bi a bull’s fit! It to my heart gade wi’ a dunt, To think the cuttie had the strunt; Says I, ye crabbit mislear’d runt, Gif I draw breath, This day ye sall Pegasus munt,_ - As fhure as death. When that fhe heard me crack sae crouse, She grew as caum as ony mouse 5 Syne look’d sae pleasant and sae douse, An’ nae mair snarl’d5 - . That now I dinna care a louse For a’ the warld. Come then, my winsome, dautit lamb! An’ [’se gie you a.gude Scots dram O° aquavite ; just the sam I tak mysell 5 Whether it mead your milk or dam, Ye need na tell. Sing on this morn, before the sun To speel the lift has yet begun, Wi hearts sae overjoy’d wi’ fun, We canna seep; But up an’ to the fields we run, , By day light peep. ¥OL Xi. ® 166 poetry. Sept. TH. ‘Lang may we bruik sic happy. hours, To stray "mang braes, an’ bogs, an’ bow’rs, On king’s birch day to gather flow’rs To bufk our winnocks;, Content an*. this be. still our dow’rs, Wi’ claise an’ bannecks. Here rowth o” flow’rs by nature grow, Nae art’s requir’d to gar them.dow ; Ye gods! what blefsings ye bestow On thankJe{s man ; © keep us frae the auld boo-kow, As lang’s ye can. ‘ Now glorious Samuel, Avon’s brag, On sic occasiors never lag, By day break rear your painted flag, An’ flag staff baith; ‘I wat it is nae tatter’d rag, But good hale claith. .O Avon-field! thrice happy place ! This day there’s nane.e’ Adam's race ‘Within thee wears a dowie face, .For a’ are happy ; God grant itlang may be your case, -Ay hale an’ cracky. At heightro’ day the blood-red wine, In cristal glafses sparklin’ fhine ; ‘Upon my word it’s really fine, Only to see’t ; But by my-saul it’s nine times nine Better to prie’t. Syne first of a” we toast the king, The niest in order is the queen, The prince a’ Wales the heir f ween O° Britain’s crown, ‘The royal family bedeen, Their healths gae roun, An’ patriotic chiels beside, ‘That lo’e auld Britain’s vird.and tide, Our breast fili’d fou o” loyal pride, Their fealty fhaws, Till hill an’ dale at distance wide, Ring wi’ huzzas. Gin our gude king was here himsell, To see our chops an’ hear our bell, } An’ how ilk tongue sae snack an’ snell, Lovd touts his fame3_ Vll.wad a plack, here he wad-dwell, An’ ca’t h's hame, wha poetry. You Lusin town an’ Embrugh baith, Aft bloodie scenes o” dirt an’ death, On days like this, had in your wrath, iG, An’ social be 3 At Avon feint a ane wad fkaith A very flee. To beet the joys.o” this day’s sport, Our masters, Lord reward them for’t! Gie us a fouth o” the best sort a i O° barley broe, That maks the time seem wond’rous fhort - An’ cheary too. As soon’s we get our mid-day meal, Q bread an’ butter, miJk or kail, Then thanks that ken na how to fail, On king’s birth day, Upon a floor weel lai¢ wi’ dail, Hard reels away. Keen Frazer rubs his fiddle strings, His elback flees as it had wings; Rae at the bafs wi’ vigour clings, An’ weel he plays, While voices at the punch bow! sings King George’s praise. The damsels cleans an’ trig, an’. fairy Frifk thro’ the recls wi’ rural air,, Nae wanton look, nor bosom bare, To temp the younkers, Here fieth and blude may safely stare, As if at Blanker’s *. Then young, an’ auld, an’ middle age, Far frae their cares quite thrang engage, Whilst harmlefs mirth an’ pleasure rage, How great the blifs! Hech! life wad be a funny stage Were’t ay like this. Sic pleasures maun through time gie wayy Nane need expeck they’ll last for ay 5 The Lafs that opes the yetts o” day, Wi’ faithfu’ heart, . Keeks in wi’ halesome smiling ray, An’ bids us part. Frae her sweet face nae mair we crave, But just ae dance that dings the lave, Bab-at-the-bouster, then we have, . Withouten fail, Where a’ partakes, baith gay and grave, An’ syne we ekail, ® An ugly old fellow of the place. “107 108 poetry. Sept. 19- Now Musie ye hae done fu’ weely Some ither time ‘us twa may speel Up to Parnafsus wi’ a wheel, An’ view its tap ; But first and foremost or we spcel, , We'll tak a nap. I. K. PRinTER AVON FIELD.- A FRAGMENT. ‘For the Bee. Ni Xe Kew blaws the wind o’er Donocht head, The snaw drives snelly through the dale, The gaberlunzie trills my sneck, And fhiv’ring tells his waefu’ tale. , Il. Cauld is the night;—O let me in! And dinna let your minstrel fa 5 And dinna let my winding fheet Be naething but a wreath o” snaw. 111. Fu’ ninety winters hae I seen, And-pip’d whare goroochs * whirring flew 5, And mony a dance ye’ve danc’d I ween, To lilts which frae my drone I blew,. © Iv. My Eppy wak’d, and soon fhe cried, Get up gudeman and let him in; For weel ye ken the winter night Was fhort when he began his dir. v. My Eppy’s voice, © wow it’s sweet, E’en though the bans and scaulds a wets, But whan it’s. tun’d to sorrow’s tale, O but it’s doubly sweet to me! vie Come in auld carle, Pl] stir my fire, I’! mak it bleeze a bonny flame; Your blude is thin, ye’ve tint the gite, Ye thou’d nae stray sae far frae hame. Vil. Nae hame have J, the minstrel said, Sad party strife o’erturn’d my ha’, And weeping at the eve of life, I wander through a wreathe o” snaw. Cetera desunt. * Or gorcccks. An explanation of this word will be very obliging, 1792. anecdotes of Artedt. roy ANECDOTES OF ARTEDI, THE FAMOUS SWEDISH NATURALIST, WITH SOME ACCOUNT OF A NEW EDITION OF HIS WORKS BY M. WALBAUM. Tue public are indebted to Linnzus for the following in- teresting memoirs of his friend and fellow disciple Artedi, a name well known to the lovers of natural history. These extracts are made from a Latin edition of Artedi’s works, just publifhed by Dr Walbaum of Lubeck, in three volumes quarto, with plates. These anecdotes are written with that warmth which was natural to Linneus, and adds- one more to the numerous list of examples that are before the public, of the hard fate that too often marks the Bras life of philosophers. John Artedi was born in the year 1705, in the province of Angermania in Sweden. He inherited from nature an ardent paffion for all branches of natural history, but he excelled particularly in what respects fifhes.—In 1724, he came to study at the university of Upsal. “ In 1728,” says Linnzus,“ I came from Lundto Upsal. I withed to devote myself to medicine. I inquired wha, at that university, excelled most for his knowledge ; every one named Artedi. I was impatient to see him. I found him pale, and in great distrefs for the lofs of his father, with his thin hair neglected. He resembled the portrait of Ray, the natura- list. His judgement was ripe, his thoughts profound, his manners simple, his virtues antique. The conversa- tion turned upon stones, plants, animals; I was enchan- ted with his observations, equally ingenious and new; for at the very first, he was not afraid to communicate them ta me with the utmost franknefs. I desired his friendfhip, he afked mine, From that moment we formed a friendfhip, bce anecdotes of Artedi. Sept. 192. which we cultivated with the greatest ardour for sever: months at Upsal. I was his best friend, and I never had any who was more dear to me. How sweet was that intimacy !. With what pleasure did we see it increase from day to:day! The difference, even of our characters, was useful to us. His mind was more severe, more atten- tive; he observed more slowly, and with greater care A noble emulation animated us. As I despaired of ever becoming as well instructed in chemistry as him, I abandoned it ; he also ceased to study botany with the same ardour, to which I had devoted myself in a parti- cular manner. We continued thus to study different branches of science; and when one of us excelled the other, he acknowledged him for his master. We disputed the palm in zchthyology ; but soon I was. forced to yield, and I abandoned that part of natural history to him, as well as the amphybza. 1 succeeded better than him in the knowledge of birds and insects, and he no longer tried to excel in these branches. We marched tog ther as equals in (ithology, and the history of quadrupeds. ‘When: one of us made an observation, he communicated it to the other ; scarce a day pafsed in which one did not learn from the other some new and. interesting particular. Thus emulation excited ourindustry, and mutual afsistance aided our efforts. In spite of the distance of our lodgings, we saw each-other every day. At last I set out for Lap- land,--he went to London. He bequeathed to me his manu- scripts and his books. “ In 1435 I wentto Leyden. I knew not what was become of Artedi. I thought he had been in London. I found him there. I recounted my adventures; he communi-— cated histo me. He was not rich, and therefore was unable to be at the expence of taking his degrees in medicine. I recommended him to Seba, who engaged him to pub- a7Q2. anecdotes of Artedt. Pou ‘lith his work on fifhes. Artedi went to join him at Am- - sterdam, ** Scarcely had I finifhed my fundamenta botanica. ‘I communicated it to him; he let me see his phi/oso- _phia ichthyologica. He proposed to finifh as quickly as pof- sible the work of Seba, and to put the last hand to it. He fhowed me all his manuscripts which I had not seen: I was prefsed in’ point of time, and began to be impatient at being detained so long. Alas! if I had known this was the last time I fhould see him, how fhould I have pro- longed. it ! “ Some days after, as he returned to sup with Seba, the night being dark, he fell into the canal. Nobody per- ceived it, and he perifhed. Thus died, by water, this great ichthyologist,:who had ever delighted in that ele- ‘ment. “ ] learned his fate—I flew—I saw his melaneholy remains. I thed tears: atelast I resolved to preserve his glory, and -to fulfil my engagements. I procured his papers with a good deal of difficulty from his host, who wanted to seli them by auction. Mr Ciffort bought:them, and gave them to me. In spite. of businefs, with which I was then ‘overwhelmed, stole from it the time that was required for revising the works of my unfortunate friend. Who could better edit his works than him who was full of his stile, of his ideas, of his method and manner? I pafsed six months in. Holland to complete this edition ; happy, if I have been able properly to fulfil this ‘last duty to my friend; and to secure an eternal fame for him, who was carried off by such a premature fate. I fhall rejoice in having snatched from oblivion, the greatest work of that ‘kind which exists. Artedi has rendered that science the -most easy of all, which before his time was the most dif Ault.” Y12 anecdotes of Artedi. . Sept. 19. Thus, does the republic of letters owe to Linnzeus this elementary treatise on fifhes. But as the edition of Lin- meus was not now to be had, having been publifhed in the year 1738, Mr Walbaum has now presented new edition of the whole of Artedi’s works, with a supplement containing the discoveries that have been made in ehat branch of natural history since his time. The first volume of this new edition, which was printed ‘in the year 1788, contains the bibhoteca ththyologica of ‘Artedi, which contains the literary history of that science, commencing several years before the Christian zra, and ‘comes down to our owntime. ; The second, which was publifhed in the year 1789, presents the philosopbia tchthyelogica of Artedi, improved by “Walbaum, who was benefitted by the writings of Monro, Camper, Ketseuter and others. Here’also are added, tables containing the system of fifhes by Ray, Dale, Schaefir, Linneus, Gowan, Scopola, Klein, and Gronovius. The third volume, publifhed -1792, completes the col- lection of Artedi’s works. It contains technical defini- tions. After the generic and individual characters, come the names and Latin phrases of rtedi,—the synonymes of the best naturalists,—the vulgar names in Englith, German, Swedifh, Rufsian, Danifh, Norwegian, Dutch, and Samoyed—the season and the countries where every kind is found, their varieties, their description, and observations. The modern discoveries, even to our own ‘times, are added, so that in this part is collected, the observations of Gronotius, Brunich, Pennant, Forster, Klein, Bloch, Gmelin, Hafslequist, Broufsonet, Leske, Bus/h, Linneus, and other great examiners of nature. _ This work concludes with the new genera, created since the death of Artedi; yet those of Kéein, Linneus, Gronovius, Block, Forster, Gowan, Forskall; Brunnich, Seopole, Hermann, and Houtuyn. JournaL EncycLorepDique. 94. THE BEE, OR \ EITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR Werbnespay, SEPTEMBER 26 1792. “EssAY ON THE INFLUENCE OF TASTE ON DOMESTIC ‘AND SOCIAL LIFE, BY THE AUTHOR OF THE ESSAY ON TASTE IN ARCHITECTURE. Sir, ' Ta the Editor of the Bee. T HAVE endeavoured to fhow that tafte is an artificial “organ of perception, created in a healthy, temperate, uncorrupted individual, by the contemplation of na- ‘ture. This discriminating power has received the name of that common sense which relifhes and distin- _guithes, by the mouth and palate, the flavour of our nourifhment, or of noxious food; because it may be -considered as a spiritual palate, which apprehends and relifhes the efsential qualities of nature or art, separate from their grofser substance, leading us ‘thereby tothe preference of those things that are most _conducive to the nourifhment and growth of our im- mortal spirits. “I have considered how this taste is ‘conducive to the fitnefs, excellence, and beauty of -our domestic dwellings, and of our public edifices, aid -am desirous to apply the same principles of argu- VOL, Xi. P t T7A) on the influence of taste. Sept. 26. ment, to the good government, and enjoyment of do- mestic and social life. I fhall consider this subject, first, as taste is pro- ductive of our own immediate tranquillity and hap- pinefs: secondly, as tending to the tranquillity and» happinefs of our families: and /astly, as promoting the tranquillity and happinefs of the community with which we are connected, and ultimately that of the public at large. First, Asto our own immediate tranquillity and happinefs. Who is there that does not sometimes feel that there is a’ void, a chasm, a somewhat in the mind, that feels confused, disordered, and ruinous, “yet seems as if it might be repaired ? The disturbance and languor that is occasioned by this frame of mind, is removed by active businefs ; some engaging pursuit that causes not remorse; by innocent amusements of all kinds, in succefsion ; and by bodily exercises in the field. When we are in health, we see clearly about us in a moral sense, are satisfied with ourselves, and pleased with our com- panions. When pursuing our present objects of de-. sire with alacrity, we, at the same time, look back with self gratulation on the past, and look forward, to the continuance ef an agreeable and creditable em-. ployment,—we. are in that complex, but well arran- ged state of body and mind, which approaches moft nearly to perfect happinefs. _ Now that this state cannot be approached, without the intervention of taste, will, 1 hope, sufficiently ap- pear from the following considerations. 7Q2- on the influence of taste. II5 ‘ast, It seems evident that the everlasting author of nature has so formed this world, that man alone is: eapable of contemplating its beauty, its adaptation to: the relative designs of infinite wisdom and goodnefs, and to the happinefs of the creature, as well as to the glory of the Creator ; and since the stoutest infidel must acknowledge, that, so far as we can discover, nothing has been constituted without a purpose, or in’ vain, soit appears that man has been endowed with a rational soul, and with taste and discernment ;, that having been invited by the maker and. gover- nor of the univerte to visit this planet, he might be able to admire it, to discover its innumerable beau- ties, and feebly, yet discriminately,. to adore the wis- dom and goodnefs of the Creator.. adly, It is no lefs evident, that in proportion to the exercise of man’s intellectual and contempla- tive powers, and his abstinence from grofs and sen- sual excefses, he becomes more useful, perfect, and. happy ; because he thus exercises himself according tohis own peculiar constitution of nature, and does not degrade himself, by falling into the inferior nature of other animals, which being regulated by a me-. chanical and unchangeable instinct, donot commit such excefses, nor are disturbed in their functions,, by the same energies of fancy and imagination which: cause the disorders of human life. And, /astly, It being certain, that all permanent: tranquillity and satisfaction in animated, bodies, arise from their being in a state that is according to na- ture ; man’s nature being indisputably contemplative, 116 on the influence of taste. Sept. 26. he cannot attain or preserve inward tranquillity, . without using continually this faculty by which he is characterised, and distinguifhed. But the moment man begins to contemplate, bebe comes a man of taste, and the more he indulges rati-. onal curiosity and contemplates, in whatever situa- tion he is placed, the more perfect he becomes in all his functions *. In the lower clafses of society I acknowledge that men, and still more women, are prevented from ap~' plying this contemplative power extensively; but it will neverthelefs render them happier and more use- ful in the’circle in which they move, and it will tend’ to produce improvements in their businefs, and. eco-- nomy. The journeyman gardener, carpenter, or weaver, for example, who indulges this natural propensity, will avoid much of the grofs and pernicious intem- ‘perance of the vulgar, by turning their powers to some useful improvement in their respective em- ployments, or to healthful, ingenious, and innocent amusements. But I am more immediately engaged in this efsay to fhew that taste is conducive to the * The ingenious author here* gives a more extended meaning to the word taste than it usually bears. The profound mathematician reflects and discriminates with great accuracy, yet the proportion of lines and numbers are not usually accounted among the objects of taste. We ought there- fore to consider the author as here meaning only to say that mental di - crimination constitutes the basis of good taste; though that discrimination may also be exercised on objects that are not, in the common acceptation of the word, accounted objects of taste. In an efsay of this nature it would embarrafs the reader too much to call off his attention at every step to nice metaphysical distinctions ; yet, to prevent evils, it is necefsary to take some notice of them. Edit, TFO2. on the influence of taste? mg tranquillity and happinefs of the mind, independent of . external, moral, or political causes, and fhall have oc- - casion hereafter to fhow how it yt in domes- tic and social intercourse. It is impofsible that the mind fhould enjoy repose and inward satisfaction when it is perplexed and dis- tracted by confused or distorted notions concerning the appearances of nature, or the moral government of the world by its divine governor, or of the- civil. government upon which we are to depend for securi. ty and comfort. Curiosity, lefs or more in every situation, excites the exploration of these riddles ; and taste, if this cus- riosity is indulged, succeeds to discriminate, with various degrees of accuracy, a satisfactory result, which produces a pleasant flow of thought and ‘reflec- tion, that calls for gratification of a similar nature, in. a more extensive range of experience. Curiosity meets here with tlie love of variety, and whets the appetite for knowledge. ‘Mr Paley, archdeacon of Carlifle, in his little es- ‘say on human happinefs, has placed it, 1s¢, in the exercise of the social affections: 2dly, in the exercise of the faculties either of body cr, mind, in the pursuit of some engaging end: 3dly, upon the proper constitution of our habits : and, /ast/y, upon the enjoyment of health. On all these heads he has treated. the subject very pertinently, but has been forced to diffuse his argument, chiefly upon the proper constitution of the habits, which can be done mo otherwise than by that power of discrimination, ‘which produces the permanent quality to which we 118 bn the influence of taste. Sept. 265 affix the denominatign of taste. Now though it muft be confefsed, that a great proportion of mankind are excluded by their daily and hourly toils, from laun- ching out into extraneous employment, ‘yet as every one has some leisure allotted, or permitted to them, and at least one complete day in the week, of relaxa~ tion from labour or businefs, it seems to be of un= speakable. importance that this precious leisure fhould be employed in a way conducive, not only to the advancement of personal happinefs, but to the progrefsive improvement in the individual, and of the general good of society, to which nothing can so much’ contribute as that quality which I have en- deavoured to, describe, and which in its due modifi- cations, is nowise inconsistent with the humblest situations. In the morning of life, when every thing is freh,. and new, and gay, it is easy to preserve the tenor of our minds, by the variety of agreeable and engaging pursuits which present themselves continually, and without trouble or research. But as life advances,. the charm difsolves, the prospect of future happinefs: diminifhes, the horizon fhuts in, and closes all around: us, the clouds sit deep with foreboding darknefs. Then the inborn and inexpugnable desire of pleasure’ impels us ‘o seek for that sweet variety and gentle: agitation, in artificial pleasures and amusements, which we cannot find in the hackneyed routine of our ordinary occupation. The man who has not taste, becomes in this sad © dilemma, either a cynic, or a sensualist, a busy~ body, a hot partizan, or an enthusiast in religion. F8992.- onthe influence of taste. rig "The woman a gad-about, a card player, or a déevo- tee. This is the moment that the insidious prieft, the distorter of the wise and: benevolent, the social and humane floctrines of Christianity, takes to instil ‘the subtile poison of enthusiasm into his deluded votaries, and to teach them to look for happinefs in “the clouds, in opposition to the Juminous and sub- lime, as well as rational doctrine of the founder, that the kingdom of heaven and happinefs is within us. The fortunate votary of taste, seeks for rational pleasure in the devout contemplation of the works of nature, and the useful examination of the works of art, and the improving observation of the infinite va- riety of moral character, in history, biography, or in common life. He desires not to overleap the ‘boundaries of our limited nature, the flamantia me- nia mundi, to plunge into the regions of fanatic enthusiasm, or the iron handed bigotry ‘and intole- wance, where the object is hid in the clouds, or eva-- porates in dreams; but with a reasonable depend- ance on superintending providence, exercising all his rational powers, he investigates the noble and varied ~ spectacle of natural beauty, which is presented to him | ds it were on a theatre, by its bountiful author, he enjoys the play, nor cares if he fhall leave it before ° the beginning of the farce ! *¢ Then hither bring the fair ingenuous mind, “6 By her auspicious aid refin’d, i ** Lo! not a hedgerow hawthorn blows, «« Or humble hare bell paints the plain; «€ Or valley winds, or fountain flows, *¢ Or purple heath is ting’d in vain, « For such the rivers dath their foamy tides, ~¢ The mountain swells, the dale subsides; 20 " grammatical disquisitions. “Sept. 26~. ¢ Even thriftlefs furze his ‘wandering steps detain, ** And the rough barren rock grows pregnant with delight. s SHENSTONE, ‘I am, Sir, your humble servant, B. A. _ GRAMMATICAL DISQUISITIONS. Continued from vol. x. p. 318. Observations on personal pronouns. "Tux following efsay is intended to give a general view of the efsential properties and pofsible varia- ‘tions of the personal pronouns, upon principles that are not derived from the practice of any particular language, with a few remarks on some words in the _Englith language, that have been usually ranked as pronouns. _ A'PRONOUN is a word that may be occasionally substituted in the place of anoun, and performs in language the same functions with the noun itself. When the subject is examined, we are easily led te perceive that all nouns which can admit of a substi- tute for them, must be in one or other of the three following states, vzz. : _1st, The pronoun may be employed as a substi- tute for the party who speaks, or the party who ad- drefses a discourse to. another. The pronouns which perform this office have been, in general, denomina- ted pronouns of the first person; or, 2d, It may represent the party addrefsed; and in this predicament it afsumes the name of the pronoun of the second person ; or, 3d, It may represent objects at a distance, or not “present, to which the discourse refers; and, in this 1792. on the personal pronouns. 121: ease, it has been called the pronoun of the ¢hird per- ' son. As these circumstances must occur in all lan- guages, so we find these different clafses of pronouns in every language; and it is these clafses of words which have been denominated, in general, personal pronouns. But though all languages agree in having these. three clafses of pronouns, they differ infinitely as to the variations they admit of, and other circumstances affecting them. The pronouns of the frst and second persons are affected by circumstances so much in the same way, that we fhall find it convenient to consider them to- gether, and the pronouns of the third person, which differ from them in several respects, by itself. As nouns, in most of the languages we have been -accustomed to study grammatically, admit of a three- fold variation, in respect to GENDER, NUMBER, and ASE *, we have naturally been disposed to consider the pronouns, which become their substitutes, as be- ing capable of the same variations. But here the general analogy fails us. In the languages usually taught grammatically, we find no variation in the pronouns of the jirst or second person respecting gen-= der ; and, therefore, it has been concluded, generally, that these two clafses of pronouns cannot with pro. priety admit of any variation in respect to gender. ‘Our grammarians have even gone so far as to invent areason why this rule fhould not be transgrefsed. ! Without being influenced by thege reasons, which I >» ee Bee, vol. x. ps 241 ef ecg. VOL, xi. Q@ 7 , 123 on the personal pronouns, — ~ Sept. 26. view as an attempt to fhut the door against investiga- tion, I fhall here only briefly remark, that wefcan easi- ly perceive that a variation in this respect is not con- trary to nature; but we can even conceive that such a variation might, if it had been practised, be the sou ce of much elegance and refinement in lan- guage; and, therefore, we may conclude, that it is not at all impofsible, but some languages may be met with which admit of this particular variation. As I find, however, that in the course of this in- vestigation I fhall frequently have occasion to point out deficiencies, and inelegancies, which are not in ge- neral adverted to, I fhall beg leave to take notice here, once for all, of the great facility with which we accustom ourselves to make use of the same word in two or more distinct senses, where we experience a deficiency of terms, without being sensible of thesmal- Jest imperfection in that respect. For example, when Tsay, ‘‘it pained ber to be compelled to sell ber house,” we are not sensible of the smallest impropriety -or inelegance of language; though, had we occa- sion to employ the masculine instead of the feminine gender of the same pronoun, we could not say, “‘ it pained him to be compelled to sell 4zm house ;” but we would find it necefsary to say, ‘ it pained him to be compelled to sell 42s house.” This example brings _us at once to perceive, what we did not before sus- pect, that the single word her is forced to perform, alike, the office of the two words him, and dis, with neither of which we think we could pofsibly dispense. Were we to proceed by the same miode of analysis, we fhould be able to point out a variety of great . 1792. _on the personal pronouns. 123 deficiencies which are never perceived in practice, though they would be immediately recognised had we been in the practice of a more perfect use of lar. guage. Where [| take notice of pofsible variations that may take place in other Janguages, that do not take place among those we know, let me, therefore, not be accused of fanciful refinement, on the ground that we do not perceive the wantof them. It would astonifh any person who were to consider how many of the most efsential parts of language might, by this mode of arguing, be annihilated. Gender. TuoucH no European langu4ge therefore admits of more than three GENDERS, for their pronouns of the ' first and second persons, and few of them even of more than ome; yet there is no impofsibility but other languages may exist which admit of some, or all of the variations that follow *. 1st, For the masculine gender, where the sex of the animal is known to be male. , _ 2d, For the feminine, where it is known to be female. 3d, For the indefinite, where the sex of the parties is either not known, or immaterial, and therefore not necefsary to be known, or where-it is wifhéd to be concealed, 4th, In countries where eunuchism prevails, and where of course this gender of animals must fre- quently occur, a variation might also be admitted for * The reader will observe that I take no nocice of those accidental dis- | tnctions of genders, which have been produced by the particular termi- nation of words, &c.; but refer only to the natural distinction of sex, &c. \ 124 on,the personal pronouns. Sept. 26% them, which might be called the imperfect.- We can easily conceive that prodigious force might occasion~ ally be given to the language of contempt by the use of this pronoun. ; 5th, For the neuter gender, where inanimate objects are concerned. Some may, perhaps, think it would be avery unnecefsary, and even an absurd refinement, to have a variation of these personal pronouns for the weuter gender ; because inanimate objects neither. can speak themselves, nor be spoken to. Yet it is very pofsible to form an idea of the utility of such a clafs of words, had they been in use in language. Even at present, when it is meant to denote a high degree of contempt for any, person, the neuter Eng-- lifh pronoun, of the’third person, is often substituted for either of the other two genders in use in our lan- guage: thus, “i, meaning be or fhe, is a despicable creature,”’ ‘* 7t, meaning as before, is a pitiful thing,” 2. e. person; and it is surely as necefsary to give nerve to the language of contempt, when the object is pre- sent, as when absent: and, as the speaker may some- times wifh to eXprefs a particular sense of humilia-. tion or debasement of mind, denoting contrition, it is easy to conceive occasions when this gender might be adopted with great force and propriety, in the pro- nouns of the first and second, as well as of the third person. Even in ancther way might this gender become necefsary. Addrefses to inanimate objects are com-) mon, even without any attempt at perso.ification ; as ‘in the song, ‘* Cogie gin ye were ay fu’*,” €2e. in which cases the neuter pronoun might be employed * Ahumourous Scots ballad in which a person is represzated as addref- —— ee ee ere a. = E792. on the personal pronouns. F2% with singular propriety. In fhort, there seems to - be no doubt that the neuter gender might be admit. ‘ted with regard to the pronouns of the first and ses cond persons. Hence we may conclude that, instead of THREF, there might be at /east FIVE genders of this clafs of pronouns. Of number. In all languages each of the personal pronouns ad- mits of a change respecting NUMBER, which mast be at least two-fold, viz. singular and plural. Most lan- guages have no other distinction in this respect ; but some divide the plural into definite and indefinite. The Greeks, we have already said, admitted a defiiite plural for the xumber twa, which has been called the dual number ; the same distinction I am told also takes place in the Galie, Calic, or Celtic language. But J have not heard that the definite plural has ever been extended farther than two in any language. It is plain, however, it might be with equal propriety ex- tended to the number ¢hree, or other higher numbers ; and it is by no means impofsible but some languages may have extended this definite plural to other higher numbers, especially with respect to the pronouns. Should this be the case, and were a writer at all times permitted either to employ the definite, or the indefinite plural, as best suited his purpose, it might doubtlefs ke 2 new source of elegance and perspicuity. - sirg hiniself te his cogie, that is, a dish that contains his victuals, ina te very pleasing menner. The burden of the’song is: "i “ Cogic gin [if] ys were ay [always] fu’ [Aull,J & .Cogie gin ye were ay fu’, % * J would sit and sirg to you, Peon J would sic and sing to you, 7 *. Until] that 1 was weary.” 126 on the personal pronouns. Sept. 26. Of cases. TH Sani _ In some languages certain relations that subsist between nouns or pronouns and other words, are de- noted by a variation in the form of the noun or pro- noun, to which clafs of variations has been appropri- ated the name of cases. In many languages no such variation subsists with regard to nouns, as particu- cularly the Englith; and in all the languages where GASES, have been adopted, the number of cases is so few as to perform very imperfectly the uses for » which they seem to have been adopted; the highest. number of cases in any European language being six *, whereas the relations that, for want of these come to be denoted by preposztions, amount to six times that: number at least. This variation, there- fore, seems to be, for the most part, a very unefsen- tial peculiarity of certain languages. There seems, however, to exist in nature an efsen~ tial reason for ome variation, at least, in regard to case; and in respect to this particular circumstance all languages, that [ know, admit a variation in their pronouns, even where the nouns do not. The object denoted by the noun or pronoun, when considered as connected with an active verb, may be viewed either as active of as pa/sive ; as the object from which the energy proceeds, or as-that on which it acts. This distinction is real, and must subsist in all languages ; though, from some unaccountable oversight, most. languages admit of no distinction for the noun when placed in these different circumstances, though in * And even these are so imperfectly discriminated, that the distinc.ion oe / . is iN Many nouns more nominal than real, \ ‘ ? -.1792. on the personal pronouns. 124 others it has been adopted; and the words then have obtained the name of the nominative and accusative CASES. Though perhaps, it would be better. to call them the active and the pa/sive states. Our Englith pronouns admit of this distinction, though our nouns do not. The same may be said of many other lan- guages, ancient as weil as modern, even where gram- marians do usually arrange the-whole into cases ; ot in the Latin, for example, where more cases are adop- ted than in any other language, the nomznative and accusative are the same in perhaps.half the nouns of that language. This defect is the more to be re- gretted, in that no word has ever been adopted, which, when joined to the noun, denoted this relation, as in other cases. ‘ ‘ Another unobserved pofsible variation of the pronoun. TuEsE are all the variations that grammarians have admitted to be pofsible respecting the pronouns; because these are all the variations that have been carried into -practice in the languages we have been taught gram- matically. But there are several other relations that may subsist between the parties, for which pronouns become the substitutes, which it would be of great importance to be able to represent without circum- locution, with clearnefs and, perspicuity, by meahs of a particular variation of the pronoun for that pur- pose. For example, the speaker may be supposed to addrefs a discourse to the party present, or to speak of those who are absent, or to represent him- "self, under one or other of the following points of ' view, at least. f “ ‘ 5 rite on ‘ike personal pronouns. Sept. 26. 1. They may be considefed as inferiors. mm. As equals. ; 1m. As superiors indefinite. rv. As superiors definite. The number of variations, definite,» would vary greatly according to the degrees of rank establifhed in the country where the language was spoken ; but they could in no case, perhaps, be lefs than two, viz. ast, As respecting the king or first magistrate. 2d, As respecting the supreme Being. In all these respects, at lecst, we can easily con- ceive that a variation of the pronoun is not only pof- sible, but in some measure absolutely necefsary, be- fore man can exprefs, with any degree of precision, the sensations by which his mind is on innumerable occasions influenced. So necefsary indeed is this va- riation of the pronoun, that although it has been hi- therto, in as far as I know, entirely overlooked by grammarians, yet in actual practice, men, feeling the want, have, in most languages, adopted certain con- trivances for removing the defect, which have been in some languages, more happily effected than in others. In the Englifh language we have no other pronoua of the first and second persons, but the words J and thou. Practice has enabled us however to vary these words from the original meaning ; and on some oc- casions to substitute others in their. stead that are sufficiently absurd ; or periphrastic phrases are made use of to supply the place of a simple pronoun. Thus the proper: pronoun thou, is, by general ptac- tice, now in a great measure.appropriated to solema : 2792. on the pérsonal pronouns. 129 addrefses to the deity, or as announcing commands 5 and in common:conversation between man and man,» the plural.you is made to stand in place of a singu- far. On the other hand, with a view to give a certain elevation of tone’to majesty, in many languages the -king, inthe singular number, makes use of the plural pronouns, and says, in Englifh, we, instead of simple J. On some occasions, rejecting the plural, the king uses the simple pronoun singular, with the addition of his distinctive epithet, as in Spain, yo dre, I the _ king. Formerly we had in Englifh an indefinite pro- noun, exprefsive of general respect from an inferior to a superior, which has now fallen into disuse. The _ phrase was, your honour. But though this indefinite respectful pronoun be now obsolete, we still retain many other pronouns, definite, of the same clafs, as your /ord/bip, your grace, your excellency, your royal ‘highnefs, your holine/s, your serene bighne/s, your majesty, &c. And the word friend, as denoting kind- .nefs from a superior to an inferior, is still in use, » though -we have no pronoun that.can become its sub- stitute exprefsive of the same idea. In the Spanifh language they have proceeded a _step farther than we have done in this respect. It as only in speaking to inferiors they make use of the plain pronoun ves or os. In addrefsing equals whom _ they with to treat with respect, they make use of the word usted; and the periphrastic phrase, vuestra BD woL. xi. R + © 130 ‘onthe personal pronouts. Sept. 26. | : merced*. The general use of these phrases, gives to that language a dignity and politenefs in colloquy, — that scarce admits of being rendered into — with propriety, '. TheGermans also make use of the simplé- pronoun euer, der eure, or der eurzge, to inferiors only. But — superiors they addrefs in the more respectful terms | ‘thr, dero, thro and thrige, In Swedith also they only make use of the word ee, _ when speaking to inferiors, ban, when addrefsing equals, and der, adding the name of the person, which ~ is equivalent to Mr, with the proper name in Englith, - when they addrefs superiors. It thus appears that this distinction of the perso- “nal pronouns, though it has been overlooked by gram- “marians, is natural and proper. I therefore conclude, © that the personal pronouns, besides those variations already specified, of gender, number, %nd case, admit of © ea “another variation, denoting personal relation also. I -do notfind a name for this division at present suf- ficiently exprefsive. ~ All the variations above described, ‘apply to the ‘pronoun of the ¢hzrd person, in the same manner as to those of the frst and second persons. But there are other peculiarities respecting the pronoun of the ‘third person, that do not apply to the others, which | require now to be noticed. : To be continued. °° at De See * I think I can ‘perceive a peculiar delicacy in the d*rivation of th’s — phrase. Merced, by itsslf, is a favour or agift. The oblique reference-to favours conferred, when speaking to those who, from superiority of rank, have the power of conferring these, seems *o Le particularly delicate. Per- haps this is only a refiaement. amit - oi L792. ee ¢ Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. Ty the partiality of a brother does not’ mislead my judgement, I fhould hope you will not think the let- ters I inclose undeserving a place in your miscel- lany. They are the artlefs effusions.of a favourite, * sister, in whom my soul delighted, who is now, alas!, no more! Every thing that belonged to her was just- ly dear to me; and | would. not with that a-single, word that ever escaped her lips, or came-from’ her, pen; fhould be forgotten. I cannot suppose that your will be equally partial as myself; but I own I thould be much disappointed were you not interested in’ them. The dear innocent was scarcely sixteen when fhe wrote them; J have not dared to alter a single syl-- able of them myself, but I: leave you to-correct any: little grammatical slip you. may perceive. The names, only are disguised, and the places and dates suppref. sed, to prevent a too easy discovery of the persons, Lam your constant reader and sincere wellwither, ’ ALBERT.. letter from Isabella to Albert. 132 ————— ° FROM ISABELLA TO-ALBERT, LETTER FIRST. My dear brother, © : Tuave been here a whole week. without writing to you, though I can afsure you I have waited with the utmost. impatience till the time of your return; for _ since J have been at perfect liberty, I long very much to communicate my thoughts to yoy with that unre-- served freedom we used to do at home; for as to let- ters from the boarding school, you know they mustall. 132 letter from Isabella to Albert. Sept 2°26. be read by the mistrefs, so that we can say nothing but that we are very well,—like the school exceeding-" ly,—are vastly happy in our situation, and so on ; now, as I disliked my situation very much, you may believe I avoided writing from thence as much: as pofsible, so that I contented myself with writing. to my mother zm the common style, without thinking of addrefsing a single line to you. - Now that I can write with freedom, I take the first opportunity of exprefsing my unhappinefs at ever having been sent to that boarding school. It isa sad. place indeed. Not that I do not think very well of our: — mistrefs,—I believe fhe is a very good woman ; but. having so many young mifses to superintend, it is. impofsible fhe can look after them in the way I could: with, or as I have been accustomed to at home: All fhe can do is to watch over their behaviour when un= der her own eye, and take care of their external con-- duct ; with regard to which points fhe is extremely w gilant indeed. But what is the consequence? The young mifses learn a habit of disguise and difsimula- tion that is quite fhocking to me. You know that the most serupulous adherence to truth has been ever inculcated to us, by our dear parents, as the basis of every virtue ; experiments on gypsurt. 14g: It is to be regretted that Mr Paltuel has not specified the proportional produce of each on the same space of ground. It is farther to be regretted that our countrymen fhould be so fhy at making comparative experiments of this. sort.. The benefits that would be derived from these: would be: great. EXPERIMENTS ON GYPSUM AS A MANURE, » When »psum was noticed in this work as a manure, Bee;. vol. i. p. 297, it was hinted.that probably its effects might: be different in America: from what we experienced in Eu- rope, chiefly because the grafses which naturally spring. up. there, are probably different from those that are commonly) cultivated here. It even appeared from these experiments, , that this manure operated’ more powerfully on one kind of: vegetable production than another; the effects. on grafs, were great, on wheat, scarcely perceptible. ' The following experiments tend to fhow, not only that it operates differently on different vegetables, but also its comparative effects when tried. with some other manures. _ The experiments were made by the same Mr Crette de Palluel; and both the former and this are recorded in the: memoirs-of the Royal Society of Agriculture in Paris. Experiment first. “| divided a:piece of lucerne,” says he, “consisting of four arpents, into four equal parts. The scil was all of: equal quality. '“ On the first division I caused be sowed thirty bu- fhels of peat afhes, which cost five livres. “On the second thirty buthels of gypsum, which cost five livres ten sols. ~“ On the third, thirty buthels of oe dung, value’ ix livres. “« And on the fourth, nothing. 150° experiments on gypsum, — Sept. 26. ” Result, “ When compared with the last divison, the first produ-- ced fifteen bunches of lucerne more ; the second afforded Only twelve of excels; the third Pps tl thirty bunches more than the Iast.” ' Experiment second. 2 <3 “ The same quantities of each manure wee se ‘racist meadow, of four arpents, divided equaly in the same manner. - “The peat afhes produced nearly the same effect~ as: above ; the gypsum made a great difference in the crop 3, the grafs puthed out much stronger, and was of a better guality, and it yielded twenty-two bunches more than that wens: had nothing. “ Pigeons dung has long been known to imptove moist meadows very much, by extirpating bad kinds of grafses,/ bringing white clover in its stead, and aaa the. crop. It produced one fourth more.” These experiments still are lefs accurate than could be: withed ; yet itclearly appears that gypsum, as a manure, in” this instance, operated more. powerfully than peat afhes, on moist meadow ground, though lefs so on lucerne. It is seldom we can get all that we desire, but when we ad- vance a step, our labour has not been in vain,. ; SHEEP FED ON THE LEAVES. OF TREES, Without a rigid economy, agriculture can’ never be: carried to-itshighest pitch of perfection; and for the want of it much waste is sustained, and great lofses. incurred ‘in’ many parts of Britain. In other countries they are often obliged to have recourse.to expedients for supporting thein live stock which we would despise ;, but which we might often imitate with great profit. The following affords a lefson of this sort : “Tn the month of fune,”” says Mr Cite de Palluel, “fore. seeing a scarcity. of forage, and desirous of finding a food for my fheep without consuming my vetches, I fell upon 4 * 1792. > a bint for the Bee, ft an expedient that succeeded with me perfectly well. I sent a person every day to prune twenty elm trees, and leave the branches scattered #1 the wayswhere my fheep _were to pafs. These theep, to the number of 550 made an abundant repast on the leaves, and then the branches were bound up into fagots. My fheep had no other fiourifhment till the harvest was got in. the elms have suffered nothing ; as-I took care they fhould be pro+ perly pruned. I also, in the months of September and October, pruned my willows and poplars, all the branches of which I preserved in a dry state ; and this food was of great use,to me during the winter for my fheep. I can af- firm that those which were not intended for the butcher, lived upon nothing else but these branches. ** J also fattened 300 fheep with potatoes and cabbages, _ for which I got a very good"price.” I have long ago remarked, that fheep can be easily and well sustained during a storm of snow in winter, upon branches of fir trees, thus cut down daily, and given to them. Firs can be reared almost on every theep farm, without difficulty ; and if plantations for this purpose were duly made, and carefully thus applied, many thousand head of theep might be annually saved, that at present in- evitably perifh.. Yet I never heard of a plantation that’ - had been made for that purpose; and very few that had ever been applied in that way at any time. The fheep that are thus lost may be said to be sacrificed by igno- rance on the altar of pride. ; ——— A HINT FOR THE BEE. Curpren are fond of listening to stories. Might not those who are about them, while curiosity is all awake, and the memory retentive, avail themselves of this cir-. cumstance, to introduce the most interesting parts and | palsages of real history, instead of ghosts and hobgoblins ? =~ t52 to correspondents. . Sept. 26. True it is few are able. to do it in a proper manner, vive voce ; but the attempt properly made, might improve both the speaker and the audience. Mica. TO.CORRESPONDENTS. Taz very polite remarks of Foseph Scaliger, though the arguments owe their origin chiefly to misunderstanding the opinions he combats, than any thing else, and are not therefore convincing, fhould have had a place as soon as pofsible, except for the same reason that induced the Editor ‘to postpone the paper to which they allude, for rhore than an year and an half, viz. the fear that the subject could prove but very little interesting to a greatimajority of his readers. It is unfortunate that that paper fhould have been so inaccurately written as to give rise to these mistakes; and the writer of it would no doubt with to explain farther, which would aug- ment the evil, by disgusting his readers; so that it is more adviseable for the Editor to leave things as they are. Indeed the matter is, in itself, of -so little consequence, that readers may judge of it as they please, witheut any material detriment to the cause of literature : and so much was the Editor convinced of this, that, had it not been judged necefsary to pave the way for sanother, which he thinks of-greater importance, it would mot have been) admitted at all. . The Editor’s best thanks are due for the very obliging terms in-which this writer has exprefsed himself. It fhall be carefully “preserved. The slight notices concerning Sir William Bruce,-@c. are thankfully ‘received ; fatther particulars are requested. _ The elegant and interesting statistical communications respecting: America are thankfully received; together with the friendly hints that accompanied them, of which the Editor hopes to avail himself. The singular letter of C. Skene is a great literary curiosity, and fhalf, — ‘appear with the very first opportunity. The Editor has been favoured with an interesting communication from “the ingenious Mifs Rhodes, respecting the rearing of silk.worms in Bri- ‘tain, which fhall appear in our next Philologus is respectfully informed that there are hundreds of valuable pieces in the pofsefsion of the Editor, of a much older date than the com= munication referred to, which he has not found it pofs:ble to overtake; though, fronr particular circumtstances, others of a later date must have ‘Deen occasionally inserted. With the utmost desire to eblige all his cor-. yespondents, and at the same time not to disappoint his other readers, he must be allowed to adopt the conduct that seems the best calculated to -fulfil both these objects at once, He fears his desire for avoiding the im- putation of partialiry, sometimes leads him farther than it ought to do. It is with regret that the Editor declines the tafk that Merina requests af him, as he considers himself to be by no means qualified to perform it jn a proper manner. * # The biographical_memoir by R. FW, is received, and fhall appear with = the first convenience. Articles of this sort are very acceptable. : i W. W. says that the MOURNING MOTHER, inserted in p. 65th of this,» volume, has been by mistake, ascribed to him, and desires that this pub- ‘dic notice of it may be given. THE BEE, ee ee, 3 LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, : WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 3. 1792. sa THE CUR FOX. ’ Many persons have heard of the fox who never : saw one ; many a lady has had her hen roost robbed, _ by this crafty enemy, who never had the satisfaction j of knowing what sort of a creature he was. The representation of that animal above given, being. very exact, may serve to satisfy that curiosity. In, Size, it is nearly the same with that of an ordinary y FOL. xi. u +t / 154 on the fox. Bet. Bo cur dog. Its colour, a rufset brown ; the hair never lies sleek to the tkin. Its eyes are remarkably live- ly and brilliant, and very significant and exprefsive. Its tail is long and‘ bufhy,. which it seems greatly to admire, and frequently amuses itself by endeavour- ing to catch it as it runs round. In cold weather, when it lies down, it folds it about its head. There areseveral varieties of foxes in Britain ; but that above described is the most .common, and ap- proaches nearest the habitations of mankind. It lurks about the out-houses of the farmer, and carries off all the. poultry within its reach. It is remark- ably playful and familiar when tamed ; -but, like. ma- ny svild-animals half reclaimed, will, onthe least-of- fence, bite those it is most familiar withis 5 a it is always of a thievifh disposition. The fox’ sleeps much during the day. ; “bat: agit -the night it is active -in search of its prey, which it often. obtains by. surprising artifices ; on which ac- count: the cunning of. the fox has become proverbial ; . and numberlefs instances of it are related in all coun- tries:. He will eat fleth of any kind, but prefers that of hares, rabbits, poultry, and all kinds of birds. Thost that live near the sea coasts will, for want of ether food, eat crabs, fhrimps, muscles, and other ‘fhell fith. They are also fond of grapes, and do great damage i in vineyards to which they can have accefs. They are so greedy of honey as boldly to attack ‘the wild bees for it; and frequently rob them of their stores, though much incommoded by the ‘stig ang of the bees. B792-- on the fox. 155 The fox sleeps sound; and, like the dog, lies in 2 round.form. When he is only reposing himself, he ’ stretches out his hind. legs, and lies upon his bel- ly. In this. position he spies the birds as they alight on the. hedges or places near him, and is ready te spring upon such as are within his reach, He rare- ly lies exposed ; but chooses the cover of some brake, where he is- pretty. secure from being surprised. Crows. magpies, and other birds, which consider the~ fox as a common enc:ny, will often give-notice of his. retreat, by the most clamourous notes ; and frequent- ly follow him a considerable way, from tree-to free, ; xepeating their outcries. Foxes produce but once a year, from three to six” young ones at atime. When the female is preg-- nant, fhe retires, and seldom .goes out of her hole. . She comes in season in winter ; and young foxes are found in the month of April. If fhe perceive: that her habitation is discovered, fhe carries them off, one by one, to a more secure retreat. The young are ‘brought forth blind, like puppies. They grow eigh- teen months, or two years, and live thirteea years. Theré is so little difference. between the dog and .fox, that itis difficult to characterise them: distinct- ly from each other. Yet the dog discovers a- great - antipathy to the fox; and pursues him with surpri- sing keennefs. Experiments have proved, however, . that the foxand dog may be brought to breed to-. _ gether; though not without difficulty, Whether the progeny can again produce, or if they be infertile, . like mules, seems not to haye been yet fully ascer- tained... “ = 56. > on the influence cf taste. * Oct. 3, Hunting the fox is one of the most favourite rural diversions among people of high rank im Eng- dand. For that purpose, many privileged covers ‘are kept in different parts of the country, where ‘foxes are suffered to breed without annoyance, to the great prejudice of the farmers around. Were it not for this circumstance, foxes,as well as wolves, would ‘probably have been long ago extirpated in England.. “They fhelter themselves, and breed in holes in the ‘earth, or among recks, where tl-cy canfind them; but “not being capable of digging, themselves, they often drive the badger out from the hole he has dug for himself, and take pofsefsion-of it, as a safe retreatfor themselves, and’a secure nest for their young. pee ee ON THE INFLUENCE OF TASTE : » ON DOMESTIC AND*SOCIAL LIFE. Continued fram p. 120. «« Taste promotes the tranquillity and happinefs of familics and friends.” ] aT first divided my subject, concerning the influence ‘of taste, into the scopes of individual, of domestic, and ‘social, or public happinefs. I have in my last paper endeavoured to deseribe the natural weaknefs of hu- “man nature,—its tendency to the fruition of animal . pleasure,— its disappointment in the expected continu- ~ance of young delights,—its self abasement, disgust, ‘and chagreen,together with its various, but abor- tive attempts, to fill up that infinite vacuity, which -3s left in the rational soul, when ‘man, rejecting intel- lectual nourifhment, feeds upon garbage, leaving the 2792. ~ on the influence of taste. 157 ‘ambrosia and nectar of Olympus, for the hufks of , the prodigal, and the muddy waters of Lethe. . Here, (good Mr Editor;) I think I see some of | your fair male or female readers, launching the Bee inte eternity, by hurling it acrofs the room like a cock-chaffer, with a Heigh ho! what bave we gotten here? A bore,—a twaddle,—a cruel lounge of senti- meat. I always thought the Bee had too much of dull sgavez. But now I expect ina week or two to see it stuffed with extracts from Whitaker, against Gibbon, Blair’s sermons, lord Hailes’s defence of ‘ Christianity, or some such sad conundrums. My dear friend! no such matter, I afsure you! ‘Do you really think I could expect a fafhionable crea- ture to sit and meditate upon one’s end for five mi- nutes, when any thing clever was a doing? No, no; But my dear! it is Sunday, you know, and it rains dike a duck day; all the prigs at church ! not a soul -on Princes’s street, and Scratchoni the hair drefser “won't be here this age! Come, will you step into my study for a minute or two, and look at Sherwin’s _print of the death of lord Chatham ? | So you have discovered, have you? that your fa- ther’s park, and fhrubbery, is not the garden of Eden, .and that neither London’nor Edinburgh are the new _. . Jerusalem. __; -Lam-extremely sorry for you my dear! I remem- 4 -ber well being like to hang myself about twenty years ago, when I made the same most notable dis- “covery. . — ~ - - - 158° on the influence of taste: O0t.32- _ Thad received, like you, what is commonly called” a capital education, that is, being made a very per~ fect automaton, to read, write, calculate, ride, dance, fence with the small ‘sword, because pistols you know are now only used, perform the: minnet de la cours . because you know country dances, ala mode cham+ petre, are only to be practised in real-life, —to play. all kinds of music by the book and not by the heart, which fyou know destroys a performer totally ; to admire Handell’s church anthems and prayers,— . ‘and to laugh at the church and, churchmen! To know the titlé pages. of an amazing number of fafhionable books,—to drefs negligently among- my inferiors,—to be dry, or non chalant, incompany,—to . avoid all brutal exprefsions of kindnefs to my relati-- ons, and all odious connections- with provincials, pedants, fhopkeepers, mechanics, and ‘unfafbionable. old people. To make a genteel little speech at a: counry meeting, or move an addrefs in either house of parliament,—to repeat a few agreeable pafsages - ' from the Latin and Enghfh clafsies, and-a few more » from Rachefoucault, Mandeville’s fable of the bees, . Voltaire’s philosophical dictionary, the Pucelle d’Or- leans, and a few other books of wit and humour,—to.: use the slang language of statuaries, painters, archi~ tects, musicians, and pugilists, with precision and pro- - p per effect,—and to play all kinds of fafhionable games . at cards or dice, without making wry mouths, losing - my temper, or rising up from a table where I was o- vermatched by playing with gentlemen, who wereas good as myself, though they might not perhaps sport we a i « y ft trot on the influence of taster 159 “(Ht in public, with silk stockings, from the same fhops ‘I might think it genteeler to deal with,—and last, though not least in importance, I-was taught to ap- ply a little bart/born to a friend or neighbour, when T found him exceedingly uneasy about his domestic happinefs. . ‘This I was taught to do with -all imagi- nable grace and addrefs ; and to put a final period to his sorrows if he fhould apply to me for the utmost - satisfaction ! . These noble attainments was I taught, or rather attempted to be taught ; for I must tell -you plainly, that I-rebelled against my teachers, and would have _hone of their advice. . Oncthe contrary, I‘kept my “heart soft, my head hard, and my breast steeiled, against all this mum. mery of:barrel organ education. . [began with honouring my father and my mother, not that my days might be long upon the‘land; but “because: listened “tothe voice of nature that cried within me. Loving them, I loved my kindred ; lo- ving my kindred, :I wifhed to do “good to their ‘friends, and ‘to fhine inthe eyes of my domestic -eircle, which was composed of their-connections. This led me to aspire to the love of virtuous fame, an a more extensive circle, and this attainment I soon . found to be impofsible, without that taste and dis- cernment which enables us to judge intuitively of the insides of things, after having examined their out- __ ward forms and aspects. ’ My mind became akingdom to me, from whence I travelled into those that were foreign to me, stu- -died their manners, their principles, and their cus- _ «toms, without either partiality or disgust. 160 on the influence of taste. Oct. 3% I did not attempt to be ‘a woridérful Christian.’ E was satisfied with such attainments, and with: such pursuits, as were suited to my gerlius and abilities. Like a good general, I endeavoured always to keep upon strong ground; and, if dangerously attacked, without having the expectation of victory, to make a good and handsome retreat,*keeping up a respectable petite guerre, without attempting pitched battles, ex- cept when absolutely necefsary to my safety and ho- nour. By the constant use and improvement of this faculty of taste and discernment of what is trues ‘excellent, and beautiful, a faculty which, like the ' etherial fire, is universally diffused, and can be called forth always by the attention of social intercourse I rendered myself independent and happy.* In the pursuits of useful and agreeable knowledge and occupations, I did not bear down, like a mad admiral, upon a whole fleet of pursuits, but singled out ob- jects for which I thought myself able; and breaking thus the line, I carried off my prizes, and discomfited: the enemy. I had never any occasion, like the com- ° mifsary, to throw myself down upon settees in des- pair, to exclaim, “« My God what a fatigue it is to be a penile i? » No, no! it became my nature, but not my pro- fefsion. It was not necefsary for me always to sleep, or stretch, or yawn, or lounge, or sit in the silent grave of whist ; or fret at ground games,’ when there were no blood and thundering events to rouse seh aig mettle for ne day. — eg ee ee a we 7 \ , 1792» ‘on animal utrition. 16r I enjoyed the pacific flow of my full imagination, ‘and the pleasing rotation of my rational samenefs. I joined the crowd always, when I had leisure; and took my ownroad when I saw the finger post that pointed tomy duty, and to my chosen pursuit. These, my dear friend, are the effusions of ex- perience, and not of fancy ;—take them, living, as they rise,—use them,—try the experiment, and when we meet again let me know the result. But _ hear Scratchoni’s bell. PS au revoir, vive la Joye, et le bon gout. Thus, Mr Editor, have I PER you with a dif- sertation consisting only of one fhort paragraph, which J flatter myself, from its length, at least, will not prove tedious to your readers, and am, with regard; , your humble servant, A. B. DISQUISITIONS ON ANIMAL NUTRITION. Havyine met with some curious elucidations respec- ting the natural history of the pangolin, (an account of which singular animal, accompanied with a figure, was inserted in the Bee, vol. x. p. 85,) together with some interesting speculations on the mode of suppor “ting animal life in general, by Adam burt, esq; inser- ted in the second volume of Miscellaneous Difserta- tions, @c. respecting Asia,I beg leave to lay the substance of these before the reader, with some far- ther observations on the same subject. Mr Burt, who difsected the animal with care, had an opportunity of observing several particulars that luded the notice of Mr Buffon, who had only seen a WOL. Xi. x | + 162 6 animal nutritions "Oct.3.° dried specimen of it. In particular, he observes, that. a general rule establifhed by this celeb ated natura- list, vzz. ‘that all animals which are covered with scales are oviparous,” is clearly ‘contradicted by the pangolin difsected by Mr Burt, which happened to be a female, whose uterus and organs of generation were evidently those of a viviparous: animal. Its dugs’ were two, seated on the breast. In regard to other particulars, he observes, ** that there are on each foot five claws, of which the outer and inner are small when compared with the other three. There are no distinct toes ; but each nail is moveable by a joint at its toot. It has no teeth; and its feet are unable to grasp. The nails are well adapted for. digging in the ground; and the animal is so dextrous in eluding its enemies, by concealing itself in holes, and among rocks, that it is extremely difficul t to pros cure one. bie ‘© The stomach is cartilaginous ; and, analogous to that of the gallinaceous tribe of birds : it was fil- led with small stones and gravel. The inner part of the stomach was rough to the feel, and formed into folds, the interstices of which were filled with a fro- thy secretion. The guts were: filled with a sandy pulp, in which, however, were interspersed afewsmalk stones. No vestiges of any animal or vegetable food could be traced in the whole prime vie.” From the habits of this animal, and these particu. lars respecting the stomach and intestines, our inge- nious naturalist hazards a conjecture, which, though, bold at first, sight, appears upon a nearer investiga- tion, to be not entirely destitute of probability. His 1792. on animal nutrition. 163 ‘conjecture is, That this animal derives at least a part of its food, if not the. whole of it from mznera/ substan- ces. This opinion appears bold, rather perhaps be- cause we have not been accustomed to think in this manner, than because it is contradicted by experience. It is indeed true, that the greatest part of animals which come under our more immédiate observation, draw their principal nutriment either from the ani- mal or the vegetable kingdom ; and because this rule is general we have, perhaps too hastily, concluded it is universal. Our acute naturalist observes, “* that we have no clear idea of the manner in which vegetables extract their nourifhment from the earth; yet the fact being sO, it might not be unreasonable to suppose, that some animal may derive nutriment by a procefs somewhat similar.” If we adopt the maxim of Buffon, ‘ que tout ce qui peut étre’ est,’( whatever can be, is,) we hall be led to this conclusion. ‘* When other substances than stones,” Mr Burt adds, ‘ fhall be discovered in the stomach of this animal, my inference from what I have seen must fall to the ground.”? Here, however, we think the concefsion is too liberal. It may hap- pen that there may be animals, which though they can derive nutriment from mineral substances, may likewise be capable of extracting nutriment from animal or vegetable food. AJ} carnivorous animals, we know, may be brought to live on grain, As just- ‘ly might we then conclude, that if any kind of grain fhould be found in the stomach ef a carnivorous bird, intermingled with animal substances, that this bird derived its whole sustenance from the grain, as that 164 on animal nutrition. * Oct. 3. the pangolin could derive no sustenance from the mi- neral substances found in its stomach, ifa single par> ticle of grain fhould be discovered there. Setting aside therefore this concefsion of our au- thor as unnecefsary, we proceed. ,‘* But if”, says he, ‘like other animals with muscular and cartilaginous stomachs, this singular quadruped consumes grain, it must be surprising that no vestige of such food was found present in the whole alimentary canal; nor can it be inferred from the structure of the stomach, that this animal lives on ants or on insects.” He observes farther, from the report of experiments by signior Brugnatelli of Pavia, on the authori- ty of Mr Crell, ‘that some birds have so great a difsolvent power in the gastric juice, as to difsolve in their stomachs flints, rock chrystal, calcareous stones,. and fhells: and nothing, we ‘fhould think, that is so= luble in the stomach of animals, may not be thence absorbed into the circulating system; and nothing can be so absorbed without affecting the whole con- stitution.” But if nature prompts certain animals to seek with eagernefs, and to swallow with avidity, certain mineral subsiances, as other creatures fhow a natural fondnefs for animal or vegetable substan- tes, from which we conclude they derive their nou- fifiment, is it not équally nataral to suppose that the first set of animals equally derive nutriment from the substances nature prompts them to choose, asthelast? He farther observes, that, though Spallanzani found by experiment, when he attempted to feedfowls entirely upon stones, that they died; yet it can by 1792. on animal nutrition. 16 $5 no means be iiferred from thence, that they derive no nutriment from the stones they naturally pick up. We know that man eats salads by choice, and no one will doubt that he derives nutriment from them; yet I question not, that were men to be fed entirely up- on salads, for any length of time, very few could live upon that food alone. Even frefh succulent fruits, which are invariably admitted to be highly nutritious to man, when taken with other food, would, if taken alone, prove fatal to many of the human spe- cies: but there can be no doubt that the result of the experiment would prove fatal to the whole human race, fhould it be conducted in the same manner with those of Spallanzani, on chickens. ‘Were a philo- sopher, upon difsecting a human stomach, and finding in it some raw vegetables, to.try if man could be fed on grafs alone, or any other vegetables that came to hand, there can be no doubt but they would all die. How false then would his conclusion be, if from this experiment, he inferred that man could de- Tive no nutriment from’ raw vegetables ? How infi- nitely more erroneous would it be to infer, that.no ‘other animal could derive nuttiment from raw vege- tables of any sort ! Fowls, most afsuredly, not only swallow, but digest ‘small stones. Manufacturers who use dung of poultry, never, I believe, find it mixed with stones ; but as they require a daily supply of small stones, these must of course, be digested in the stomach, and- be absorbed into the lacteals, from whence it ‘is na- tural to infer, they contribute in one way or other to the health and nutrimenpt of the animal. 266 - on animal nutrition. Oct. 3. Begin these, and other considerations, ourguthor sees nothing absurd in supposing that the pangolin derives some part, of its nutriment from the mineral kingdom. I will frankly own that these considerations ses had so much weight with me, as to make me believe that we have too hastily adopted the opinion that ani- mals can only derive nourifhment from animal or ve- getable substances ; and on taking a superficial glance of animated nature, there are innumerable facts pre- sent themselves that seem to give weight to this new adopted opinion ; a few of which I fhall briefly enu- merate. 1st, Live toads have been fr eget found in the heart of the most solid stones, where no vegetable or animal substance could come near them. Here mi- neral substances alone would seem to have support~ ed life. , 2d, The pholades eats through the most solid rocks. It is true this animal always chooses its habitation in such places as can be moistened, at least at times, with sea water, from which some may suppose it de- rives its nourifhment; but can we suppose it would fhow such a decided fondnefs for the stone itself, if i it derived no kind of sustenance from ‘thence? 3d, Earth worms are not: known to gnaw roots of any plants; and are always found full ofa slimy earth. They do indeed draw into their holes straws, and other decayed vegetables, which they pofsibly emplpy, in a putrified state, as food; but we have no reason to think that, where these substances are not to be had, the worms,» would die for want of them. 492. on animal nutrition. 164 4th, Sea worms, which are ga hered by fifhermen for bait, are in like, manner full of sand: nor do we know that they ever search for vegetable substances of any sort. Indeed these abound most where no- thing of that sort could be had, : 5th, Gold and silver fifhes, andseveral other sorts of fifhes, can be kept alive for a long time in pure water, in which no kind of animal or vegetable substance can be perceived. On what then do these subsist? Should it be said they derive their nourifhment from small insects they exttact from the water, it: would be only putting back, but not removing the difficulty ; for still the question will recur, on what do these small insects feed ? I know these fifhes will eat bread, if given them, as well as flies, and several other kinds of animal food;: but this only tends to fhow that nature hath en- dowed them with a power.of digesting various kinds: of food, Man could live on either flefh, or grain, or succulent fruits or salads; he may be therefore ealled a carnivorous, a gran kvorous, a frugivorous ora herbivorous animal. He might be fed upon any one sort ; but he would also take others with avi- dity, if they came in his way, like the poor fifhes we treat of. 62h, Is it, however, certain, that man does not de-~ rive sustenance from the minéral kingdom, as. well as from the animal and vegetable substances he devours? Does the water he drinks, which is so efsentially necefsary to his existence, furniih no part of sub- sistence to him? it seems unreasonable to suppose it. The following case, among many others, confirms this idea. 168 on animal nutrition. Oct. 3x About twelve years ago, a woman in Rofsfhire lived several years, without tasting any other kind of food, but pure water alone. The. fact. was au- thenticated in the most undeniable- manner; and “Sir John Lockhart Rofs afsured me, that he visited her after fhe had been on that regimen several years, and found her complexion frefh and clear, her breasts plump, and her body far from being in that emaci- ated state he expected. ’ nth, Lhaye often thought it was a matter of great difficulty to account for tne manner in which fifhes im ‘the sea were sustained. The number of these is very great; probably much greater, taking into the account the whole depth of it, than the same extent of surface on'land; yet few are the vegetables pro- -duced in the bottom of the sea; and of these few. a very small portion of them ate consumed by the ani- -mals which inhabit the ocean. We know, in fhort, not perhaps adozen of aniials that inhabit the ocean which feed upon vegetables of any sort. On what then do fithes live? the answer ds ready ; o2 other filhes. And true it is, that most kinds of fifhes devour those that are smaller than themselves. But still the difficulty recurs. If large fith devour smaller, what do these, smaller ones, dowa to the very smallest, live upon? They must come at last to derive their nutriment either from vegetable or mineral substances. But I -have already said, that the vegetable substances pro~ ; duced in the sea are few ; and these few are not con- sumed by animals, in a great degree. It would seem therefore undeniable, that some of the marine ani- » 19792. on animal nutrition. / r6g avals must derive their sustenance from 2 similar source with that of vegetables. _ . 824, This doctrine ‘seems to be peculiarly appli- gable to the herring. Herrings are known to come in fhoals, and in so close and compact a body, as ‘sometimes, for miles together, to admit of being lifted out of the water in buckets, nearly full of fifhh. The fith, when in this: ‘situation, are usually fat, andin the highest state of perfection; but where those. little fifhes find food in such abundance as to keep them in such high health, if they do not, like the stalks of ‘corn, draw sustenance from the éleinent in which they live, it is impofsible to-conceive. They do not; devour other fifhes, as is common among the inhabitants of the water; for all fifhermen agree in saying that nothing is ever found in the stomach of a healthy herripg, except asmall quantity of slimy” matter, more resembling mineral than animal sub- stances. This then seems to be one clear evidence of fith deriving their food entirely from water, as plants do on fhore. Myriads of.other sorts of fifh, of smal- ler'size, may probably derive their food from the same source, which, in their turn, like vegetables, — Surnith subsistence to animals of a larger size. From all these considerations, I think there is reason to believe, that there may be some animals, which, like vegetables, derive the whole of their subsistence from the mineral kindom: that the great- est part of them draw the principal pari of their sub« sistence from the vegetable and animal kingdoms ; ‘but that there are, perhaps, none which do not derive VOL. Xi. Y + 170 ; on silk worms. Oct. 3- @ part of their sustenance from the mineral king- ‘dom. - ' Experiments, However; are here wanting to deve- lope facts so fully as to remove all kind of doubt on this subject. ‘ ON SILK WORMS. | fees FROM MIs$ HENRIETTA RHODES. Sir, | Lo the Editor of the Bee. Your mind seems to pofsefs such a-degree of libeo tality, as well as energy, that I make little doubt but that you have ascribed my silence to its right cause, and will readily. extend that pardon to me, -which I must believe I deserved before I dared so- licit it.. To write.a letter to you, without haying any thing material to communicate, would ‘have !been - an infringement upon ‘that time, which is so valu- able to yourself and othets ; I, therefore, determined to wait until I received’ an account of the eventual succefs of a further experiment, which IJ had intreat- ed a friend ‘to make upon the lettuce, as food for the silk worm. As for myself, the removal] to my new habitation. occupied. so much of my time and atten- tion, that I was obliged to abandon the design of rearing any this summer. The friend I speak of is mifs Croft of York, who very obligingly kept a few ‘silk worms e#tire/y upon lettuce leaves. She afvured me they were equally. as strong and healthy as any fhe had seen; and that, when, by way of trial, fhe chas dropped a mulberry leaf among the lettuces, they F702. on silk Worms. r7t fasted of the former, but soon feturned to their usual food. The silk collected from these, fhe sent to the Adelphi society in London. I must now tell you, that fhe fitted up a small room with a stove, in which fhe constantly kept fire. T am sorry to add the disappointment which attended her manufactory, because her persevering ingenuity merited the highest succefs ; but I imagine it arose from the extraordinary weather we have had’s for the rain has been so incefsant that we have num- bered but few dry days this summer. She had:so- many silk worms that fhe found it impofsible to de- _ vise means: to dry the mulberry leaves thoroughly,. before they were given to them ; and in consequence of their living perpetually upon damp food, they had an epidemic sicknefs, and many thousands of them died. I account.for her lofs in this way, because I have always understood that a wet summer in Italy is productive of exactly the same effects.. It could not be owing to cold, because her room was kept ‘propertly heated. What general Mordaunt has done with his mauufactory, I have not yet heard; but [ must be a petitioner to him soon for eggs ; and if I gain any information from him, which I think you will like to know,. I will immediately acquaint you: - with it. _ You have treated the subject with-so much judge- ment, that lam more than ever convinced of its prac- ticability ; but I must differ from you in the mode of constructing your bot house, from which Light, I _ fhould think, ought not to be excluded. Ought we not to study the situation in which that.creature is placed. 172 on silk worms. Ost. Zot by providence, whose culture we are solicitous about? The silk worm seeks no fhelter, and is a-na- tive of that climate where there is, in fact, hardly any night. If I am mistaken in this idea, I have al- ways been so strongly prejudiced by it, that. I have ever fancied those silk worms grew lefs rapidly that were farthest removed from the windows, and have therefore constantly kept moving the pans. I rather think, too, that the silk worm owns no night; for Ine- wer could perceive that it slept in its worm state, un- Jefs that inertnefs which is discoverable when it parts with its fkin, be called sleep. Did you ever remark the number of, eyes the silk worm has? There appears to me to be many clusters of them. _ Perhaps they may have been given it to enable it to endure the perpetual day, which may be neceisary to the completion of its labour! If I could choose a situation for them, it fhould sbitewrine be a souther- ly one. Your idea of a moveable canvas. frame, to be placed over the lettuce beds, is exeellent, and I thall adopt it next year; the lettuces are, however, even in a dry season, full of moisture, especially those that have cabbaged, which are the sweetest and best. If ever you receive any eggs from the large worm: which Sir William Jones has: discovered, } fhall greatly thank you for a few of them ; and certainly these might be sent to us at any time;, for surely it would not be difficult to find a person-on board of a fhip who would take care of a dozen; and as many fettuces, planted in a little wooden box, might be kept growing against the time of their hatching, ‘1792. _ om suk worms: 173 You who have perhaps known the difficulty of these things, will no doubt smile at the ease with which F have settled it, and patiently wait for the more sure, though slower method, which your ingenious rela~ tion has adopted * and to which I give my. full admi- ration, and fervent wifhes for succefs. The year before last, I had a Slack silk worm sent me from South Carolina, which my friends wrote me word was of a new and much more hardy sort. They grew to an uncommonly fine size, and the cocoons were’ larger than any Iever had; but when I came to wind them, I found the texture of the silk so fine, and that it was fixed so firmly together by the gluten, that it was utterly impofsible to ‘reel off the thread. I hope these are not the sort that Sir Willtam Jones speaks of; for ifso, they must be carded before they can be manufactured. I hope my frank will con- _ vey a few of them to you, and then you will see the impracticability of extricating the silk +. Whenever you can spare a few moments I fhall feel highly gra- tified in the pleasure of hearing from you: and | re- main, Sir, your much obliged and very sincere friend, Bridgnorth, — Sept. 12. 1792. Henrietta RHODES. | OBSERVATIONS SUGGESTED BY THE ABOVE. Tue public are much obliged to mifs Rhodes for the many useful hints fhe has communicated on this ve- ry interesting subject. The foregoing letter seems _ © Thave not the honour to number this gentleman among my relations, though we were schoolfellows, and intimate friends from our earliest in- fancy. Edit. Tt Ihave many hundreds of these now by me, which I can put to: nO use. 24 on silk wormt. Oct 3 fully to: prove the practicability of nourifhing silk: worms entirely upon lettuce, if they be kept in a warm enough temperature of the air, while on that food; indeed it appears that these worms not only li+ ved upon lettuce, tet even preferred it to mulberry leaves. - This fact being establithed, it next will be necefsa~ ty toascertain which ‘kinds of lettuce answer the purpose best. There are about thirty kinds usual-- ly sold in the seed thops, which: differ very much from each other. The tenderest appears tome to be that called Spanifb montree, and next to that the zce, or coft lettuce when cabbaged. This last would pro- bably resist rain the best. If any person wifhes to make a comparative trial of all the kinds, at, the pro- per season of the year, I fhall endeavour to procure: the seeds for them, if they have no other’ ‘opportunis- ty of obtaining them. Asowe now see that the silk worm eats lettuce, and’ thrivesupon it in proper circumstances, it is by no means impofsible but other kinds of food may be found which will answer the same purpose. I re-- commend the chicorium as a proper plant for trial. The chicorium intybus is, like lettuee, a lactescent plant; the common endive is also of the same clafs. There is nothing unusual in the circumstance of a certain degree of heat being required to make ani- mals thrive, when kept upon a particular kind of food, that could be dispensed with if they were fed. on another sort. Farmers now begin to learn, from: experience, that bullocks fed upon turnips, if kept / 2 ‘on -siUlk WOrMS. rg ‘jn a cold place, are apt to be so lax in the belly as not sto fatten quickly. . Iithey be kept warm, this incon- “venience is not felt ; the animal is at all times in a more costive state, and comes on‘in fattening much -more rapidly. Thisis a branch of rural economy not so generally understood as-it ought to be ; and mifs Rhodes has great merit in having suggested the idea that.the health of the silk worms may be affected by -the same circumstances. . As to the article light ; it.is very slsihle I may he mistaken in that respect, having formed my o- pinion merely from the report ofothers. When I said that ,windows .might»be saved.in jhouses to be made for silk worms, it was my intention however only to suggest that such large windows as are required in stoves for plants, are by nomeans necefsary ; so that ‘the great expence of glafs might be saved. Whether _ this lady’s opinion, that.light is of great utility to the silk worms, or the opinion of Mr Wright of Paisley, with several others, that they thrive better in the dark, be the best founded, I pretend not to say ; but, as there is a,doubt on this subject, it would seem that if the worm*be affected at all by this circumstance, it can be but in a slight degree, so that it cannot be @ matter of very great importance. It is proper however it fhould be adverted to by experimenters. However this may be, there seems to be no reason to hesitate in agreeing with mifs R. in approving 2 south exposure, where that can be commanded; not only because that is the warmest, and therefore will save most fuel; but also because the heat thus pro- duced is lefs liable to generate noxious vapours, than 2976 on silk worms. Oct i396 that by a stove. I fhould thiak therefore that'a south exposure, with a few glazed windows, and a conside- gable number of windows closed with fhutters, that could be opened during the day time, when the sun fhone bright, arid the weather was in other Fespects favourable, would be the most eligible. Every person who has had the management of silk worms on a large scale, complains of the noxi- ous vapour that is generated by them, unlefs they be kept very clean, and the house properly ventilated. Dr Anderson in Madras has found this kind of ven- tilation so necefsary for the health of the animal, es- pecially in damp weather, that he has contrived a ‘kind of cane matting for admitting the air freely ; ‘which has there answered to admiration. It is sur- prising however that in Italy, and other warm cli~ mates in Europe, where the silk worm has been so jong reared, so few contrivances fhould haye been a- dopted for obviating this inconvenience ; for it seems to be an undeniable fact, that the silk worm itself dies in great numbers, in every case where this ar- ticle of cleanlinefs is neglected. By some late experiments made by M. Fawjas de St. Fond, and recorded in his history of Languedoc, it appears that the silk worm is much hurt by this foul air. From the experiments of Mr Ingenhouz we also know that all decaying leaves produce mephitic air in great abundance ; and as silk worms are con- stantly fed upon leaves in this state, it must necefsa- rily abound very much in the places where they are kept, if proper means are not taken to remove it. As this mephitic vapour is more weighty than com< ‘3992. “en silk. worms. 179 mon air; and as the silk worm is in Italy always ‘kept upon solid tables or thelves, which will prevent it from sinking below them, it follows, that the worms themselves, unlefs when the house is freely ventila- ted, must be always kept in the mephitic region ; ‘and if they are not suffocated by it directly, like the dogs which are'thus poisoned in the grotto de/ Cane in Italy, they may be subjected to various disorders that prove hurtful. This seems to be indeed one of the ' -unobserved causes of those unaccountable mortalities that sometimes destroy-the best founded hopes of the silk rearer. ’ If this fhould be the-case we fhall probably be able ‘to obviate it by adopting a cleanlier mode of manage- ‘ment than is there practised.. Dr Anderson of Ma- dras has thrown out some hints that will greatly fa- cilitate this businefs. One of the most difficult branches of the management of the silk worm hitherto is thecleaning without brui-' sing them. Toavoid this inconvenience, the peasants. ‘in France and Italy frequently allow the whole litter to remain without ever Cleaning them, o~ is the cause of that unwholesome stench, that has been so often remarked by those who visit the places for rea- ring silk worms in these countries. This difficulty, le finds, may be effectually removed by providing a net ; or what would be still better, a wire bottomed: frame, wrought i into large mefhes like a riddle. Have: that made of a size exactly sufficient to cover the’ -wooden box in which the worms are kept. When: _you mean to fhift them, spread freth leaves into the wire basket; and let it down gently over the worms q VOL. X1. 2, FY 178 -on silk worms. Oct. 3+ till it comes within their reach. They no sooner per- ceive the freth foodthan they abandon the rubbith be- low, and creep through the mefhes, so as to fix them- selves upon the leaves; then by gently raising the frefl bafket, and drawing out the board below, (which. ought to be made to slip out, like the slip bottom of a bird’s cage,) you get off all the excrements and de- cayed leaves, without incommoding the worms in the smallest degree; and along withthe litter you will draw. off an inch or two in depth of the foulest mephitic. vapours, To get entirely rid of these, the board, when thus taken out, fhould be carried without doors, and there-cleaned ; and the slip board immedi- ately replaced to receive all the excrements and offals, After it is replaced, the wire frame that had been ele- vated a little, may be allowed to descend to aconvenient distance above the board, without touching it, Thus will there be left a ‘vacant space for the mephi- tic air to fall below the worms, so as to allow them toe inhabit a wholesome region of the atmosphere. When a frefh supply of food is to be given, before cleaning, the wird frame ought to be let down as close to the board as can be safely done, and another wire bottomed frame put over it, with frefh leaves, as before described. When the worms have abandoned that in their turn, Jet the slip board, together with the low- er wire frame, be drawn out and removed; and so on as often as necefsary. Toadmit of this alternate change, every table, consisting of one slip board, ought to have two sets of wire-bottomed frames of the same size; the slip board to be always put into its place immediately after it is cleaned, and the wire 1792. 6n silk worms.’ 179) frames reésétved to be afterwards placed over the - Other. By this mode of management it is probable that the worms would be saved from the diseases engen~ dered by the-mephitic air ; and the numerous deaths: that are the consequence of it avoided. But still farther to insure this salutary effect, ano- ther measure, recommended by some philosophers,: might be conjoined with it. Every one now knows that quicklime absorbs fixed air with great rapidity. From this known property of quicklime Mr Bian-- ecard, a gentleman in’ France, by way of experiment, went even so far as to strew quicklime upon the worms themselves *.. This harfh procefs, he found not only did not kill the worms, but they” continued. in health, and more vigorous than before, and yield- ed larger cocoons: thai others which had not been so treated. Instead of this mode of applying quicklime,. however, I fhould advise rather to strew a thin stra-- tum of frefhy slaked: quicklime upon the slip board,. each time it was cleaned, immediately before it was: put into its place. This would absorb the mephitic gas as it was generated, and descended’ upon the sur-. face of the quicklime. Thus would the worms be: kept continually in an atmosphere of pure’ airt.. Were the walls of the apartment to be frequently * Memsircs par la societé royale d’agriculture, de Paris ; trimestre de prin-- tems, 1789~ ; \ + To put this question beyond’ a doubt, Mr Blancard: made the: fol-- lowing comparative experiments, which were'several times repeated. *¢ T procured,”’ says he, ‘* four glafs jars, mine inches high, and five in diameter, closing the mouth with cork stoppers, After which I placed in: each of them, in their second life, (so l-translate mue, which means the stage between the different sicknefses,) twelve silk worms, which were- fed four times a-day; amd which I confined in this kind of prison all! L# 189 on silk worms. Oct. 3; wafhed with quicklime and water, it would tend® much to promote cleanlinefs at a small expence, and augment the healthinefs of the worms, as well as that - of the persons who attend them. The circumstance of the silk worm never sleeping during the night, is a new particular respecting the natural history of this animal, the notice of which we owe to mifs Rhodes, and which I suppose is perfect- ly well founded. From this very circumstance, how- ever, it would seem that nature had intended that light or darknefs fhould make little difference to this singular animal. My fair correspondent has, I fhould suppose, committed a small mistake when fhe _ supposes the silk worm is:a native of polar regions, . -where only, there is no night at one season of the — year ; for though some parts of China, which seems. — on all hands to -be allowed to be the native place of the silk worm, approach to the polar-circle; yet, as. the greatest part of that country extends towards. the tropical regions, where the day’ and night; are’ nearly of an equal length, we may rather believe it -was there, where the mulberry thrives best, that the silk worm was first produced. But this is a matter merely speculative; for we know that nature may their life, wichout taking away either their dead companions, or their or- dure or litter. I sprinkled with chalk the worms of only two of these j jars, and kept the two others to compare with them. « In those without time, I never obtained neither more nor lefs than - 4hree small and imperfect cocoons, (chigues ou bouffard, ) and in the two that were sprinkled with lime, I had very often twelve, and never ~ ; lefs than nine fine full sized firm coccons.”” * ‘This experiment affords the most satisfactory proef of the utility of this procefs. From a number of trials he found, that even when the worms were covered witha very Jarge proportion of lime, they sever “were in any way incommoded by it, - w7G2. ow silk worms: 18: be in many cases helped by art, and even. in some _ eases improved by adopting practices directly con- : trary to it. If bees were left without hives, which: nature. provides for them only ina very imperfect -manner, the whole race of them-in Europe. would quickly be exterminated; and though cattle were doubtlefs intended by nature to run abroad in the: open air, and calves. to enjoy the benefit of light; yet it is well known that neither of them fatten so well in these circumstances, as if they be confined in . total darknefs, and there fed abundantly. The mortality among the worms, during this wet season, is exactly what might have been expected. Had the lettuce; however, beem kept under’a.move-- able cover. from rain for a dag or. two before using, especially: if épen to the sun at the same time,. which, in a:proper exposure, may be in some mea-- sure effected, this evil. would. have been obviated. . Since the. receipt of mifs Rhodes’s letter,. I have been favoured with the. following communication: from another lady, who is exceedingly accurate in her observations, and who is, from motives of phi-. -lanthropy, extremely anxious to forward this under-. taking. It tends to fhow that’ by great attention it: might be pofsible, in some cases, to obtain even freth dry mulberry leaves during a rainy season, were the superintendants of silk works extremely attentive ; though on a large scale, where many persons are em- : ployed, this would be a matter of considerable dif- | ficulty. ** Mifs —_——— had got a dozen mulberry plants last year, but not being sufficiently advanced to be of much use, ihe sent to -———- for her general 182 én silk worms. Oct: 3. - supply. To save frouble, and for experiment, fhe’ had fhoots brought her, 8, 10, or 12 inches long ; the leaves on the under part were stripped off, and the ends of the fhoots put into water—the water renew~ ed daily. By this means the leaves on the upper parts of the fhoots were kept in perfect good: order, and though sufficiently, or indeed perfectly freth, could never be wet. The few worms fhe had, were supplied twicea day with these leaves,—some of. them attained the size of 34 inches, others 3 inches,. none below 23 inches. One had 420 eggs, another’ above 300, and none below 27e, which fhows the leaves were in good condition. ‘© The worm arrived at as large a size as‘ Mr An- drew Wright’s at Paisley, from whom the eggs came ;, and the average number expected: from each female, that gentlemen writes, is, 250. “* Mr Millar writes: in’ his’ dictionary, or else-- where, that it hurts the mulberry lefs to take off the fhoots Same eek than to strip the wre of the leaves.” There can be no doubt but by this vers if 2 bason were provided, with a proper apparatus for receiving the fhoots, and exposed to the sun or wind,. under 2 roof, it might be pofsible to find dry leaves even during rainy weather, though at a considerable expence, where the quantity of worms is great. Perhaps the best way to have very fine leaves, and: healthy plants of mulberries, is to have them cut close’ to the ground every Winter, as we at prea do with oziers for bafkets. I am much obliged to ‘mifs Rhodes for the cocoons ef the black worm fhe was so obliging as to send. : . a ee ee 2792. on silk worms. 183 ‘They are very large and beautiful. I fhould by ne means despair of converting these to use, though the first experiments were not succefsful. From Dr An- derson’s trials it appears, that, from accidental circum~ stances, the silk will be sometimes so weak as not to admit of being reeled off without the greatest diffi- culty ; though, from.the same species of worms, the ‘silk is, in other circumstances, as strong as could be- wifhed. It may also happen that the same solvent which is sufficient to difsolve the gluten 'of the silk produced by one kind of worm, will not be sufficient to act upon that of another. On this head a good deal of elucidation is necefsary, though this paper is too long to enter upon it at present. Though I fear it will not be such an easy matter to get sailors to attend tu silk worms ona sea voyage, -.as mifs Rhodes seems to apprehend, no endeavours on my part fhall be wanting. Sir William Jones writes tome, that though he _ has the greatest pof- sible desire to promote enterprises of this sort ; yet he is so much engaged in the active functions of his office, that he can spare much lefs time to such eco- nomical pursuits than he could with; and the little time he can spare is so totally devoted to his literary _ Asiatic researches, that he cannot flatter himself with the hope of being able to afford me all the afsistance he could with: but he has no doubt his friends, who are lefs taken up, will do it with alacrity. From Dr’ Anderson’s exertions, which are entirely in the line of economics, every thing pofsible may be expected, . If ever the worms can be brought hither by being. alive for some part of the voyage, it must be, I fhould / By “anecdote. Ovex . ‘imagine, by the attention of some lady on her paf- sage home, who might find it an agreeable kind of - amusement to look after a few. Such a lady might thus, justly, acquire celebrity in future, by giving her name te that breed of silk worms, which owed their existence in Europe to her patriotic attention. I beg leave to return my warmest acknowledge- ments toomifs Rhodes for this:interesting communi- -cation andsthe obliging terms in which it is. convey- ed. It will give me singular pleasure if I can be in any means the instrument of difseminating the useful information, that her talent for accurate investiga-- ‘tion has enabled her to give on'this branch of natural » -thistory. ) J. A. ANECDOTE. ‘A woman went to find a monk, and said to him that ‘fhe had stolen a packet which charged her consci- énce. You must restore tt, answered the monk. But, father, I am not suspected, and if I restore it, I am difhonoured. Well, answered the monk, bring the ‘theft to me ; I myself will make the restitution. The woman liked the expedient wonderfully, and in a’ fhort while after fhe put into the hands of the monk a bafket, well wrapped in linen with an addrefs on a card. The monk took the batket, and the woman re- ‘tired with precipitation. The monk carried the de- posit in triumph to'the convent ; and says to his ‘brothers :on entering, Here 1s my vork. At the same _ time they heard the cries of an infant. It was indeed a new born child wrapped up in a bafket, which the -good woman had confided to the monk, asa packet - which charged her conscience, Pe ee ee ee EES POETRY. ——————————————— SONNET. For the Bees O say Maria! why is gentle love A stranger to thy mind? Which pity and esteem can move, Which can be just and kind. Is it because you fear to fhare The ills that love molest? The zealous doubt, and tender care, That racks my am'rous breast? Alas! by some degree of woe, We-ev’ry blifs must gain5 "That heart can ne’er a transport know, That never felt a pain. Enon. FOR THE NONSENSICAL CLUB. For the Bee. Ace whimsical people come hither, peed And choose a nonsensical strain; For who'd be a wit in hot weather, T? endanger the lofs of his brain. Tis nonsense we sing, and we deal in, And gen’rously deal it about ; ‘And if common sense chance fhould steal in; We kick the precise rascal out. Whereof, forasmuch, notwithstanding, Moreover, to wit, further more 5 ‘Sure never were words so commanding, So sweetly adapted before. Thus free from restraint, in we rattle, Inslav’d by no precepts vr rules, Whilst those who in form prittle prattle, Are nothing but sensible fools. “Should nonsense from human kind sever, What numbers must straight away run, The beau pick his teeth must for ever, The chatt’ring coquette be undone, voL. Xi, AA t 186 poetry. Oct. 3» The bards would have little to write on, The lawyers have little to say; “ The critics would nought have to bite on, . The Non Cons not know how to pray. Besides, for a plague wit is sent t’ye, Its owners for ever are poor; Whilst nonsense is vested with plenty, Whereof you may see now therefore. GLEANINGS OF ANCIENT POETRY. AGAINST FOREIGN LUXURY. ‘ BY W. BROWN, Anp now ye Britifh swaines, (whose harmlefs theepe Than all the world’s beside I joy to keepe,) ~ Which spread on every plaine, and hilly would, Fleeces no lefge esteem’d than that of gold, For whose exchange one Indy jems of price, The other gives you of her choicest-spicey And well fhe may; but we, unwise, the while, Lefsen the glory of our fruitful isle, Making those nations think we foolifh are, For baser drugs to vent our richer ware, Which (save the bringer!) never profit man, Except the sexten and physitian.’ |, And whether change‘of clymes, or what it be, \ That proves our marainers mortalitie, Such expert men are spent for such bad fares As might have made us lords of what is theirs. Stay, stay at home, ye nobler spirits, and prise Your lives more high then such base trumperies; Forbeare to fetch; and they’le goe neere to sue, And at yout owne dores offer them to you! , Or have their woods and plaines so overgrowne With poysnous weeds, reots, gums, and seeds unknowne; ‘That they would hire such weeders as you be To free their land from such fertilitie. , Their spices hot, their nature best indures, But "twill impayre and much distemper yours. What our owne soyle affords befits us bese; And long and long, for ever may we rest Needlefse of help! and may this isle alone Furnith all other ates’ and this land none! Baivasx PASTORALS. ‘3792. improvements in India. 187 NOTICES OF IMPROVEMENTS NOW GOING ON IN INDIA. Continued from p. 75. 'Tue following communications respect ehiefly the bread fruit tree. From Dr James Anderson to Richard Molesworth, esq. Dear Str, I am favoured with your letter of the 2d. of August last, and am sorry you have been disappointed in the teak and cinnamon trees which I sent you jast year. An alligator pear tree, however, having been sent me by colonel Kydd of Bengal, in a box of a new constructi- on, in which I suffered it to remain three months in the fhade before it was set out in the open ground, where it still continues healthy ; I have directed two such boxes to be made, in which two teak and two cinnamon trees fhall be planted ; and as captain Gerrard has obligingly promised to take particular care of them, I have no doubt you will re- ceive them both safe on the arrival of the Deptford. If they are sent to the West Indies, they will soon yield seeds ; my cinnamon and bread fruit tree, are already in’ flower, and the teak gives ripe seeds in eight or ten years. 7 You will see by my correspondence’ last year, that we have constructed reels here, which answer very well, as the fkaines made on them are afterwards placed by ‘the silk weaver on a reel made of five slender pieces of bam- boo, with a thread stretched from the eight extremities of four of the pieces, in the manner of the braces of a drum, and serve as the flies of this simple reel; the fifth piece of bamboo being the pivot or center. From this reel he winds the- silk on bobbins with the utmost facility, and no silk can pofsibly work . more freely ; but when your model arrives, I fhall pay every at- tention in my power to adopt the whole or any part of its construction, to the improvement of this busines, as it . 188 | improvements in India. Oct. 3. 1s of much consequence to introduce the best mode in a Country where the people are much influenced by cus- tom. The attention you have paid to my request in the pro- mise of a reel, induchs amejta hope that this country, ha-- ving the thermometer always between seventy and an hun-.- dred degrees, may rival the greatest establifhments in the - culture of silk ; in Bengal, I believe the heat is sometimes greater, and in China much lefs. Lam, Gc. ~ Fort St George, Fan. 19. 1792. x From Nicol Mein, 689. to Dr James Anderson. Dazar Sir, Mr Anprews and I have this instant returned from a trip: to Allitory, a village about four miles distant from this, . where there is a garden belonging te the nabob, in which we have found eight or ten bread fruit trees, two of which are very stately, and have fruit upon them, which is about the size of my clenchied fist, and externally has the appre ance of a young jack, The fruit grows from near the top of the branch, sat comes out of a fheath. ; The “branch, on being broken, exudes a viscid milky: uice. The leaf resembles a good deal a fig leaf; but is much longer and more sinuated. By this tappall, I send you two of the leaves enclosed. in a fleet of paper.. Ihave sent for a Mootchy, to make a drawing ofa branch from the tree with the fruit upon it. From its ap- pearance I imagine it may be propagated by cuttings, in the same, manner, and as easily as the fig. Mr Andrews says he was informed that the trees wete brought from the Travancore country ; five or six of the trees have been much mutilated, and their branches cut away. It exactly corresponds, in appearance, with the descrip- tion and figure in Cook’s voyage, where he found it at Otaheite or king George ut. island. I have brought with me some young thoots, which I have ordered to be plant- ed in my garden. The leaves I have sent you, are not above - P7QT. iumprevements in India. 189. half the length that some on the tree are; as the latter could not be so easily packed for the tappall—however, they will be fully sufficient.for you to ascertain that it is the tree.. I am, dove. Tritckitopuly, Fan 20.-1792- From the same to the same. Dear. Sir, f I uap the pleasure of sending you by the tappall, yester- day, two-leaves of the bread fruit tree, of which I also. gave you some account in my letter. I now send you a drawing of a branch from the tree; - and fhall, in a day or two, send you another drawing with the fruit upon it ; which I would have done to day, but did not choose to take off a branch with the fruit, without having obtained permifsion of the nabob’s son Hufsein ul “Mulk. ( Mr Trotter, surgeon; acquaints.me there are a great number of these trees that produce fruit, in the Coimbatofe- country, and at Coimbatore itself... We have now a prodj- gious encrease of silk worms at Warriore, that are in a very healthy state, and produce a strong yellow silk, since the cefsation of the rains. I am, d’c. Tritchinopoly Jan. 23. 1792 From Dr }. Aaderson to Sir Joseph Banks, bart. Dear Sir, A at Veh ok Betrevinc that it may be of useful consequence to the public, I have the pleasure to acquaint you, that the bread: fruit tree has been found in several of the southern parts of the peninsula, as-you will see by the two ietters I have just received from Mr Mein, head surgeon at Tritchinopoe ly, of which I inclose copies, with the drawing which he transmitted me along with them. Since the imprefsion of my last publication,. which was made a few days ago, and of which I have sent yeu copies, both in the Phoenix and Deptford, I have received ac- counts of the succefs of the silk worms at Palamcotta and Masulipatam, as well asof the recovery of those that had been diseased by the late rains at Tritchinopoly. So that a breed of this insect is already establifhed inan extent of six hun- 190 improvements in India. Oct. 3. dred miles upon the coast, but it will rest with the com- pany to render it productive. The incursions of the enemy’s horse, have prevented me from exploring the country, and therefore I hope you have received the white lac which I sent by captain Cun- ningham. } As you have no doubt heard of the succefs of our arms \ in Maifsore, I must acquaint you, that in our new con- quest of Bangalore, the mercury in the thermometer is at 57 in the morning, and 71, or 72 at noon, at this season. , Iam, Oc. : Fort St. George, | Fan. 26, 1792. From Dr Anderson to Nicol Mein, esq. Dear Sir, Your letter, with the drawing of the bread fruit tree, did not arrive time enough for the packet, but I immediately sent a copy of both your letters, with the drawing which you sent inclosed, to Sir Joseph Banks, time enough to réach captain Gerrard before he got on board, thinking it of consequence to be known in England. t The slips you have taken wil] not prow unlefs they are , fhoots from the root, and that you have removed the root, along with them; fot neither the bread fruit, nor ourcom- mon jack, which. are both of the same genus, vz. arto- carpus, can be propagated by this means, ner by the Chi- nese method, of potting, as it is called in England. The jack, indeed, is readily propagated by seeds ; but I do not understand that ever the artocarpus incisa, or : bread fruit, has been raised in this way. The only method of procuring a multiplication of the trees, ‘is té lay the roots bare,"by removing the earth round an old tree, and cutting through one or two roots, or as many as may be cut without injury to the trunk, and raising the upper extremity of the cut root above eround, where it fhould remain till it sends out a stem two or three feet in height; for if the root is dug up at an earlier period, the young stem is so succulent and tender, it is very apt to decay. 1792. improvements in India. 19L I have been so particular that you may communicate with the gentlemen in the Coimbatore country, and pro- cure as many young trees as pofsible. The reverend Mr John, and some philosophical gentle- men at Tranquebar, are the first Europeans who have cul- tivated this tree on the coast; and by their means, Mr Roxburgh, I believe, was supplied with some plants which he sent to England, which were said to have come originally from Ceylon ; but as Mr Andrews has traced it from Travancore, where Mr Alexander Anderson found it under the name of the Maldive jack, it is probably a native of the Indian, as well as Pacific Ocean ; although the uses to which it may be applied in the economy of human life, might still have temained unknown, but for these southern voyages. Notwithstanding what I have said about its propagati-- on, when the fruit is ripe, I could wifh you to examine it, and see if there is any thing like kernels or seeds, that you may likewise try if it can be raised from seeds. It thrives best on the same kind of soil as the jack, which is the red volcanic earth near the foot of the hills, and a higher level than to admit standing water in the monsoon. Fort St George, Iam, dv. Fan. 29.1792. 3 4 From Robert Andrews esq. to Dr James Anderson Dear Sir, Mr Men has before written you on our notion of having discoveted the bread fruit tree; he has sent you a leaf thereof, and this day sends you a drawing of a branch of the tree, with a representation of the fruit. I now forward to you in a small box, a bud, which ap- pears to fhoot out like Indian corn, and you will observe the young fruit inclosed therein. I remain, Ge. Tritchinopoly, Fan. 23. 1792. From Dr ames Anderson to Robert Andrews, esq. Dear Sie, I am just favoured with your letter, and the bud of the bread fruit tree, with the fruit, which appears singular, as nature has been more careful of this, than of most 792. to correspondents. Oct. 3, ‘ether trees, in defending every leaf, with two spathee, or fheaths, in the manner that the flowers of some trees, the palms particularly, ave defended, or like the Indian corn you mention. Mr Mein’s letters, and the first drawing, were just time enough to go this morning in the Deptford, to Sir Joseph Banks ; the second drawing of the fruit must wait some future opportunity. . I rely on your care, as well as his, to multiply the plants of this very valuable tree, (of which, we have only three at Madras,) for which purpose, I have written him di- reetions by this tappal, which he will thew you. I am, Ge. Fort St. eye 27+ 1792. ; 0 be continued occasionally. TO CORRESPONDENTS, THE obliging communication by Varietas is received, and fall be inserted awith the first convenience. The ironical piece be mentions, if executed with dee licacy, will be bighly aeceptable. Sportive good bumour is alavays sure to lease. The Editor returns best thanks to J. H. for bis obliging communication, which be will endeavogr to avail himself of as soon as conveniency will per= mit. Will be glad to bear from this correspondent when convenient. , The reflections by A. are just, and well founded; but the Editor wifbes te touch on that subject as seldom as pofsible at present, and hopes bis obliging cor- respondent will accept of this apology for deferring it tila more convenient season. Tbe very humourous letter of Merlinspixe is received, and fhall be inserted with the first opportunity. ‘ The obliging communication by Juvenis is come to band, and foall be inserted suben an engraving can be made. It may Le proper to defer ita little, till xve see what changes are produced by a little time. It qwill be obliging, if, with that view, Juvenis will be so kind as communicate what farther observations occur, with bis first convenience. The foort criticisms by C. S. fhall not be neglected. The favour of Elvina is received. Did the Editor think himself qualified Sor the tafk foe afsigns bim, be fhould with pleasure comply with ber request. To oblige ber, he will endeavour toxfind some other person to afsist bim in this respect, re Other notices deferred. ERRATA. “@,* The following errors remained uncorrected in a few copies of the last half theet of the Number which immediately precedes this. Those, therefore, who have got these copies, will please correct them with a pen, as the sense especially by the first error, js materially affected. Page 141, line 14, for cight read eighty. 148, line 5, for I read In an early number. —— ib, line 9 from the bottom, for nearly read carly. a 96. THE BEE, OR LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, WeEpNESDAY, OcTOBER IO 1792. GRAMMATICAL DISQUISITIONS. Continued from p. 139. OF PECULIARITIES AFFECTING THE PRONOUN OF THE THIRD PERSON ONLY. | GENDER*. Singular number. Aut our grammarians remark, that, in Englifh, the pronoun of the ¢hird person, in the simgu/ar number, * Ihave often had, in the course of these Jucubra‘ions, occasion to mer- tion the word gender, yet from several letters I have received, it appears that what I have said on that head hes not been sufficiently understoo!. My views were chiefly directed towards the information of those who were mere Englifh readers. I find that some whoare acqua:nted with other /an- guages are equally at a lofs to conceive clear notions on this head. In all European languages, ancient and modern, tle English alone ex- cepted, the gender of nouns isa mere artificial arrangement, that has ecarce- ly any dependance upon nature. In these cases the knowledge of the gender of nouns is a burijea upon the memory only, in which judge- ment cannot beexerted; of course, in these langu2ges, the number of gen~ ders is merely arbitrary. In some languages three, in ot!.ers two genders only have been adopted 5 and as the adjectives i in most of these languages, and the articles, where these occur, - made to vary according to the geii- VOL. Xie B B 194 on personal pronouns. — Oct. 10. admits of a three fold distinction, respecting gender, and no more, wz. 1st, Masculine, exprefsive of males. 2d, Feminine, exprefsive of females. And 3d, Neuter, applicable to inanimate objects, or te animals whose sex is not obvious or generally known, or not necefsary to be specified. Here the division rests, And although from what has been already said on the subject of gender, it is plain that this divi- : der of the nouns to which they refer, it becomes 2 severe taf& ta learners to recollect these. This is a source of many grammatical blunders in the common use of these languages. But if it be embarrafsing, even where on- ly favo genders have been admitted, how much more would it have been so, had all the pofsible variations been adopted that a strict adherence to nuture would have required? It has probably been from this circum- stance that so few genders have been in géneral employed: and, where this practice is adopted, perhaps the fewer of them the better. In the Englith language no variation of either adjectives or articles, re- specting gender, are admitted; and itis only in the pronouns that the gen- der of the noun, for which they are substituted, becomes apparent. This language too pofsefses the singular elegance of following nature precisely with regard to gesder, as far as the number of genders we have adopted will permit. Ifa person therefore, knows the nature of the object of which he speaks or writes, he must also know the gender of the pronoun he must employ. If it bea male animal, the masculine gender of the pro- noun only can be employed; if it be a female, the feminine alone can be used; if th sex of the animal be unknown, or if it be an inanimate ob- ect, the neuter gender must necefsarily be adopted. This rule is general, and admits of no exception; unlefs where, with a ‘poetical enthusiasm, which the genius of our language, readily admits, inanimate objects are personified; and im this c 22 the poet who has ence afsigned sex to the object, must adhere to the same rule when he substi- tutes a pronoun for it. In this respect then the Englith language is wnegualled. It adheres to nature 5 but it does not extend its powersas far as the bounds of nature al- jows. The enquiry in the text is calculated to thew how many distinc” tious in that respect mature would readily admit of, | ‘ 1792. on personal pronouns. 195 sion is in complete ; yet, perhaps, there is no language, ancient or modern, which is so chaste, or so nearly adheres to nature and common sense, in the use of gender, respecting pronouns, as the Englith; so that those who use it, are, in this respect, freed from an infinite number of embarrafsments with which other languages in general are encumbered. A very slight degree of attention, however, to the: subject, will enable us to discover, that the divisions. for gender we have admitted, are by far too few es~ pecially in respect to the pronoun of the third per- son, for effecting in a perfect manner the purposes of __ language. Without repeating what has been said respecting. - the want of a pronoun denoting castrated animals, such as eunuch, gelding, wedder-fbeep, capon, &c, I would here confine my observations chiefly to the neuter gender, which, in the Englifh language, com- prehends not only inanimate objects, which are ail that fhould properly belong to it, but also animals ‘that have no sex at all, those whose sex is not appa- rent, and others still in which, though the sex he known, it is not at all considered. Many words are exprefsive of general clafses of animals comprehending both sexes ; such as friend,, servant, neighbour, and so on, whose place cannot be supplied neither by the mascudine nor the feminine’ pronoun as a substitute, far lefs the neuter. The in- definite gender * is here so much wanted, that the: * See poge 123, for the distinction respecting gender that affect the: pronoun of the third pe:son, in comimon with. those of the first and se-- ond persons. ‘ 196 on personal pronouns. Oct. 19. language becomes cramped beyond measure by this defect ; and in every page instances occur, either of ambiguity, improprieties, and inelegancies because of this ; or of circumlocutions, and forced turns of ex- prefsion, that are necefsary to avoid it. The phrase ** a true friend is one of the greatest blefsings in life,” is natural, and the truth of the proposition is readily recognised. But fhould it be proposed to follow out the thought, by adding several particular instances of the blefsings it bestows, we feel an em- barrafsment. And we must either.repeat the word fried, or substitute an improper pronoun in its - stead, thus—‘‘ a true friend is one of the greatest blefsings in life: a true friend heightens all our joys: @ true friend alleviates all our misfortunes, and soothes the mind to peace ;” is one of the greatest blefsings in life; he heightens ‘all our joys; be alleviates all our misfortunes, and or, ‘a true friend soothes our mind to peace.”’? But in this last case the proposition is not fairly rendered. The effect is con- fined to the male, which ought equally to include the female. The proposition which ought to have been general, is thus rendered partial only. The pronoun indefinite is wanted also as the sub- stitute of all such words as denote a whole genus of animals, without regard to age, sex, or condition. In a perfect language there would be at least thiee dis- tinct words for each genus of animals: one to de- note the whole, indefinitely, as /beep ; another to de- note males only, as ram; and the third to denote the female, as ewe. When thus employed, the word: Meep would be supplied by the pronoun ¢definite ; \ Y 1792. on persorial pronouns. 197 ram by the masculine, and ewe by the feminine pro- noun. In this particular case we have another va- riation of the noun respecting gender, vz. wédder for a castrated male, but no particular pronoun for ze Tt is true indeed, that few of our nouns admit of this triple distinction of gender ; though, as we have often occasion to speak of a whole genus, we are on “these occasions obliged to make use of such words as _we have; forcing them from their particular mean- ing, to adopt one that is more general ; as thus : «¢ The proper businefs of mankind is man.” Pope. In which the word MAN, does not denote the ma/e, as opposed to the female, but the whole genus. And the same thing is done with regard to the word HoRSE, and many others, that are often forced to denote the whole genus instead of the male only, which is their proper meaning. On all these occasions, the ambiguity arising from the want of a proper term, exprefsive of the genus only, is greatly augmented by the want of the pronoun indefinite also. This pronoun is'there- fore very much wanted *. Plural number. But though the pronoun of the third person be somewhat defective as to variations in the singular number, it is, in the Englith langauge, in this re- spect, greatly more complete than the p/urad, which admits of only the single word they, for all genders," instead of the three, that are used in the singular. * I find by a late publication, tharin Gleees‘er fhire, there is a provin- cial inde inite pronoun no: ad »pted e!$ where; it is the wordow : ox qwudll; MEANS alin mde will, or it will, (Marfkall’s survey of Gloces- terfhire.) : ros: On: personal pronouns. Oct.. 10. This deficiency will appear the more extraordinary when we know that a much greater number of va- riations ought naturally to be admitted in the plural than in the singular number. Some languages we know do admit a triple distinction in the plural, as. well as the singular ; but these are still by far too few. The following are all obvious distinctions, that might plainly take place in reference to gender, with respect to the pronoun of the third person, plu-- ral number. ; 1st, To denote male animals alone, which Gender, might constitute the 2 - - Masculine. 2d, Female animals alone, - - Feminine. gd. Inanimate objects alone, - - - Neuter. 41h, Animate objects which either exprefs] general clafses, or a whole genus, or L alien where it is not necefsary to specify sex iadginive. at all, sth, Animals known to be castrated, and ?. Imperfect, or meant to be distinguifhed as such, Soprana. 6th, Males and females, known to be such, t Masticiontnl,, though not meant to be separated, 7th, Males only, part perfect, and part cas- . trated, known and meant to be distin- tinguifhed; but not separated, 7 Masculine S$ Imperfect. 8th, Females and castrata, ae oe Fem.imper fect: oth, Males, females, and castrata, - - Muxt imperfect. yoth, Males and inanimates conjoined, - Mase. maxts r1¢h, Females and inanimates conjoined, Fes. muxt, 12th, Males, females, and inanimates con- } United joined, 4 chins ¥3¢h, Males, females, or inanimates, either separated or conjoined, where no dis- | ‘ tinction of gender was meant to be ad- | Universally. verted to in any way. This is precise- ° indefinite. ly the power of our present pronoun | they. J ‘ 792. on personal pronouns. 199 Some lefser distinctions are omitted to avoid the appearance of unnecefsary refinement. - The above are all cbvious ; and -ifa language fhould be found, the gender of whose nouns was only denoted by the pronouns, and in which a distinct and separate word was to be found for each of these variations,—and, were writers always at liberty either to employ the definite or the indefinite genders, as suited the pur- pose they had particularly in view at the time, this language would pofsefs a variety of phraseology, and a clear, precise, nervous perspicuity of exprefsiom with which we are as yet entirely unacquainted. An unobserved case. Under the head of pronouns of the first and second . persons, we had occasion to take notice of one im- portant variation of the pronouns that had escaped: the notice of all our grammarians. Another, that is of equal importance, and that has in like manner been hitherto entirely unobserved, occurs under the present head. To avoid the appearance of egotism, and in some measure to vary the stile and form of narrative, an author often finds it would be convenient to write in the third person rather than the frst, could it be done with the requisite clearnefs and perspicuity. But ifthe writer, in these circumstances, fhould chance to mention another person of the same sex with him or herself, (here I want the pronoun zdefinite,) the. frequent repetition of the same pronoun, as applied to the writer and to the party mentioned, occasions a perplexity and indistinctnefs, that can be in no-other way avoided, but by repeating the noun itself, in place 200 on personal pronouns. Oct. 105 - of the pronoun. This confusion, however, might be entirely avoided, and the writer left in perfect free. dom in this respect, if, instead of oe pronoun only, for each of the ‘genders, we had two or more. “One of these words for each gender being invariably applied to denote the speaker only, another word to be as invariably appropriated to denote the party addrefs- ed, and a third or a fourth to be in the same man-, ner appropriated to stand in place of the person se- cond or third mentioned, in case that fhould ever oc- cur. To exemplify at once the inconvenience here complained of, and the great facility with which it could be obviated, I fhall beg leave to produce an imaginary case. The following card will sufficiently prove the want. of the variation here complained of with respect ‘to the Englith language: and all other languages I Iknow are equally deficient as to this particular. ‘* Mr A, presents his compliments to Mr B, will ** be glad to have the pleasure of his company to din- ‘¢ ner, when he hopes de will be entertained by the “¢ singing of Signiora Martini, as se knows he is “¢ pafsionately fond of music;. and it will always ‘6 give bim a very sensible pleasure to contribute to ‘* Sis amusement.”’ This card, which could hardly be intelligible in its present form, on account of the frequent repeti- tion of the same pronoun, as applied to different per- sons, would have been perfectly intelligible had we a,different pronoun for the party addre/fsing, and the party .addrefsed. This we can easily prove by sub- stituting a lady instead of a gentleman addrefsed ; as. ~ E792. on personal pronouns. 20 sour pronoun for the masculine gender is a different word from that for the feminine: Thus, ‘* Mr A presents his compliments to Mrs B, © will be glad to have the pleasure of der company “* to dinner, when he hopes /be will be entertained by * the singing of Signora Martini, as be knows /he is ¢ pafsionately fond of ‘music; and it will always “6 give him a very sensible pleasure to contribute to ‘* her amusement.” an Here no sort of ambiguity occurs; and it is plain that as httle would be perceived in the former case, had we a different word for each of the parties when of the same gender. But as it frequently happens that we 2 have occa- sion to mention, not one person only, but several others, and to repeat circumstances relating to each, the confusion that in all such cases arises in the pres sent imperfect state of our language, when this mode of writing:is adopted, is such as to render it quite unintelligible. Nor could this perplexity be remo- ved by adopting ome variation only for each gender, ‘but several others. This I fhall endeavour to exem-- plify in the following imaginary card. I z Zz © John presents compliments to James, begs he will Faines 3 “ be so kind as ‘call upon George *, and bring him with Georze * In this example the nouns John, James, and George, came in order ist, 2d, 37. To mark the-order, thes: figures are placed above the pro- poun denotingsthem respectively, aad below the line the name denoted hy the pronouns written. The examp!es, it is hoped, will thus be intellig:b.c. WOL, Xi, CG t 202 en personal pronouns. | Oct. 10. 2 I 2 ‘him to morrow to dinner, where he will expect him eat Fobn Sanes be with some impatience, as ie will be always proud to Febn ° ni 3 gat a, ghee 3 ** fhow him every civility in his power, not only on his _ George Fabr's George's TI ** own account, from the personal regard he bears him, Fokn George 3 By “but also on’ account of his father, who was his much Dy George's Fobn's « rprRecHeA friend, Miu 3 ib iy i will also desire him to come with an intention Fames George I pies ene the evening with pie it will give him an ad- Fabn Fobn - I . ; ‘ ditional pleasure ; and in that case he will endeavour to > J : Sobn ‘ 283 3 ‘shave some of his old friends to meet with him, whom he George's ‘George \ George “ will probably be glad to see. Should such a card as this be sent to any person, in the present state of our language, the adjuncts above and below the line being omitted, it would be justly laughed at, as a most absurd composition, that could not be easily decyphered. If, however, there was a particular pronoun appropriated to each of the persons mentioned in the card, the ambiguity would be totally removed, and it would be under- stood with as’ great facility as any other composi- tion in our language. To illustrate this proposition, we fhall, for a moment, suppose that the pronoun of ’ ‘ 1792. on the personal pronouns. 2ORi the third person, masculine gender, singular num- ber, admitted of three distinct variations, wz. HE, with its present derivatives, for the first person men- tioned; HEI, with its derivatives, for-the second per- son mentioned ; and HO, with its derivatives, for the third: . These: pronouns, with their derivatives, form-. edin the same way with our present Pp oneune, would stand thus, ; ° For the first in order, 2dinorder, 3d in orders, Nominative, as pronounced HEE (HEI yee Pofsefsive, HI’s HEIs HO’S Accusative, Ab M ; HEIM i Which in ths Lote aad James and George and Bend tic John’s James’s Geo ge’s By appropriating these words to their proper uses, the foregoing card would run thus, Zz 4 Fok: presents his compliments to James, begs that 2 3 wer will be so kind as to. call upon George, and being Jomes “cc ye oe : peetike & om aoe HEIM, to: morrow to dinner, when HE will ex- George James ) ; Vi, . John 3 I pect Hom with some impatience, as He wil be always George John oe ; es “proud to fhow Hom; every civility in-uts. power, not only George Joha I ‘on’ Ho’s own account, from: the personal’ regard ue bears George's ; , [ pj) Joan 3 3 z Hom, but also on account of uo’s: father, who was HI’s: George George s : John’s * much respected friend. bs Beet 3 , CMTE HEI wil also desire nom. to come with an intention james? « George “ Log the effects of water on machinery. Oct. 193 Tr i “ to spend the evening with wim it will give Him an ad- John John ! } t > “« ditional pleasure 5 and.in that. case ne, will endeavour to Joho ; 1 3 ; “ have some: of no’s old friends,to meet with nom, whom George’s - Geo.ge © i will probably be glad to see.” George The above card appears to read a little uncouthly to us at present, because the words are new to us ;. but there cannot be a doubt, that if these, or other words of the same import, were in use in language, their sounds would become familiar to the ear, and their meaning would be distinctly recognised at the first, as the words he and er are at present, or any other words inj the language, and would be the source of much perspicuity and elegance. . 4 To be continued. AN ESSAY ON WATER, CONSIDERED AS A MOVING POWER ACTING UPON MACHINERY. Iy this efsay it is not. imtended to engage in deep mathematical discufsions, but merely to. give: some general notions concerning the most effectual way of applying water to. machinery, in different circum+ stances, that as, little as pofsible of its effect, as @ moving power, may be lost ;—an investigation pe- culiarly proper at the,present time, when machinery is beginning to be universally employedin manufac- i‘ tures ; especially as it will be found that a great part of the effect of that useful element, as a moving 259 2s the effects of water on machinery. 205: power, is now lost, from an inattentiom to obvious principles in the construction of machinery. There are two cases which: may be considered as the extremes. in the application of water to turn ma- chinery, vzx. where the height of the fall that can he eommanded, is very great; or where the water moves neatly on a level bottom, without admitting of a cascade or fall. If the means of applying water. to machinery, in these two circumstances, so as to: derive the greatest benefit pofsible from its power,. be distinctly specified, it will: be very easy to apply the principles. that will thus be developed, to any intermediate cases that may occur. . Water, as a moving power, may be made to: act ahaa machinery, either 5) its dead wetght, or by. its impetus. When we speak of water acting by its dead weight upon a wheel, it is meant to: say, that it is so ap- plied as to produce an effect similar to that of 2 man pulling a rope wound round the circumference of that wheel, moveable upon its center ; or that of any other kind of weight suspended from the same rope. When it acts by its impetus, we mean the same thing as if a stone were thrown, so as to strike, with force, a bownd fixed to the edge of a wheel, moveable upon its center. Such’ a stroke would make the board move ; and by a repetition of these strokes, a continued rotatory motion may be produced. Most of the water mills in Britain are so con- structed-as that water acts’ upon them im both these ways united; but wherever the’ fall is considerable, 206 the effects. of water on machinery. Oct. 10% the general notion seems to prevail, that the greatest reliance ought to be placed on its power when acting by its impetus, and the effects that might result from. its power as a dead weight are disregarded. = By an accurate set of experiments, conducted with great.care by Mr Smeaton, the ingenious mechani- eian, and recorded in the Philosophical Transactions. many years ago, this notion has been proved to. be ill founded ; for he has demonstrated in the most sa- tisfactory manner, that, zm al/ cases, the same quan- tity of water will produce a much greater effect with the same height of fall, if made to act by its. dead weight than by its zmpetus. The difference of power when applied in these two ways, is always great; but in some cases itis nearly infinite. Where the stream of water, for example, vs small, and the height very great, the ‘power of that water, if properly applied, by its dead weight, may be sufficient to overcome a greater resistance than any machinery could bear; while, by its impe- ‘tus, it could be nothing ; the whole body, of water in that way being broken by the air, and difsipated. In a wheel constructed upon the common prin- ciples adopted in this country, with float boards, or A A’s, fixed on the circumference’ of the wheel, a ‘great part of the zmpetus is lost by the motion of the wheel; so that, on this accouut, the slower the wheel is made to move, the greater will, the effect of the water be upon it. , A great part of the power of the water acting by zts dead weight 1s, in this ease also, lost by the water W792» “the effects of water on machinery. 209 being thrown from the A A’s, in consequence of theit nclined position, where lower than the axle, upon the edges of the trough in which the wheel moves: for. | as there must always be a vacant space between the. ' edge of the A A’s and that trough, as much water as fills that space, must, in all cases, escape, without ac-- ‘ting upon the wheel at all by sts dead weight. The quantity of water that thus is entirely lost will- always be in proportionto the distance between the trough and the wheel. It is therefore of the utmost consequence, if we wilh to lose little power, that. the the trough be formed with the nicest accuracy, and be made to apply as close to the wheel as can be done, so \as not to touch it. The lofs that is thus incurred will be greatest, where the velocity of the water is greatest, for a reason that fhall be soon explained; therefore that lois will be always in proportion to,the height of the fall, other circumstances being equal. An opinion at present very generally prevails in this country, that a great deal of power is in all cases gained by eacreasing the breadth (I do not mean the diameter) ofthe wheel. In other words, by making the A A’s of greater length than formerly. This o- pinion, however, is extremely erroneous; for where ever the fall is considerable, a dimunition of power must be the result of this alteration; and where the wheel is constructed with plain A A’s, this lofs, where the fall is great, may be prodigious. To explain this circumstance, it is only necefsary to remark, that the depth of a stream which traus- } mits the same quantity of water in a given time, its breadth continuing the same, diminifhes in propor- x 208 the effects of water on machinery. Oct. 10. ‘tion to the velocity with which the water moves; but when water is made to descend on an inclined ‘plain, towards amill wheel, its velocity encreases every inch it moves forward, so as to be much great- er at the bottom of the spout, where it reaches the wheel, than at the top of it; and consequently the depth of the fheet of water is much lefs where it reaches the wheel than it was at the top of the spout. This being understood, let us now suppose, that in a trough of one foot diameter, and where the A, A’s are, by consequence, of the same length, sucha stream can be commanded as to fill the trough at the ‘top of the spout, so as to be‘on an average six inches deep; on a very moderate fall, that fheet of water where it reaches the wheel would not be four inches, (if tolerably great it would not be two inches.) Now if we suppose the interval between the A A’s and the trough to be no more than half an inch, it would follow, that one eighth part of the dead weight of the water would be lost. If it were one inch, which is no uncommon case, the lofs would amount to one fourth part of it. If, with a view to improve this machinery, the trough fhould be widened, and the A A’s lengthened to two feet, the consequences would plainly be these: the depth of the water atthe top of the spout would now only be three inches instead of six, and of course the thickne fs of the fheet, where it reaches the wheel, would be only two inches, instead of four ; but as there must still be half an inch cf water lost, as be- fore, it follows that one fourth part of the dead weight , 3792. =the effects of water on machinery. 209 “of the water must now be lost instead of one ezght. “Here then the lofs is precisely double what it was "before, without any advantage gained to counter-ba- dance that.;—augment that breadth to four feet, you once more double that absolute lofs, (the proportional lofs is much greater, ) and so on, the more youencrease the breadth of your wheel, in these circumstances, the greater must the lofs of power be ; so*that, in- ‘stead of an improvement, this innovation is in fact-a very considerable deterioration. Indeed it would be _ easy to fhow that in many cases the who/e of the pow- er of the water, as a dead weight, is thus entirely -lost, so that it can act merely by its zmpetus. Observe, what is here said respects wheels con- > structed with A’ A’s ; those with buckets, or re- ceivers of any sort, will be considered below. But in most of these, as far at least as respects ‘that part ‘of the wheel below the axis, the case will not be found to differ much from what is here stated. These observations may be sufficient to fhow that in all cases where a considerable fall of water can be commanded, there must ever be a great waste of that water as a moving power, when it is applied to wheels constructed with float boards or A A’s, and to point out in what manner that waste may be augmented or diminifhed. In that ‘mode of construction it is chiefly by its impetus that water acts upon machine- ry. It remains that we now consider the various modes of applying water to machinery so as to make it act by its dead weight ; a mode of application that’ ‘ought in every case to be adopted where the fall is considerable, As this branch of'the subject has ne- VoL, xi, DB t 270 8©6s copy ofa singular letter. -. Oct. 19. ver attracted the attention of mechanics so much as it deserves, and seems to be but little understood by the public at large, it will be of use to advert to it with care, which fhall be done in a subsequent paper. To be continued. For the Bee. ACopy oF A SINGULAR LETTER FROM LIEUTENANT CO- LONEL CHARLES SKENE, GOVERNOR®* OF EDINBURGH CASTLE, TO THE EARL OF TWEEDDALE. r ‘ My Lorp, _ Edinburgh castle, Oct. 29. 1667. T REcEIveD a letter this morning from my tutor John Kirkwood, wherein he tells me, your lordfhip was plea- sed to command him to let me know that you had seen a letter directed to the archbifhop of Canterbu- ‘ry, which, gives him an account of a rebellion that is to be in Scotland, and that the commander of the castle of Edinburgh was to declare himself for the re- “bels.—I fhall not say much, but by G—d’s wounds I -fhall be as honest and faithfulin my trust as that bifhop, or any other gownsman; andlet him and them goto the the devil and bifhop them : nor fhall I ever counter- feit any letter that may be to my neighbour’s hurt to keep myself great; for I am afraid it is their guilty consciences invents these and the like stories; and I hope whatever may be writ to them of me, the king my master will have charity for me ; for G—d damn me that day I ever betray my trust to them or any else. O! my lord, forgive me; for I am almost mad ; and in such a confusion that I know not what I am writing ; but I am, and fhall be, in spite of Toland, my lord, your lordfhip’s most obedient servant, (Signed) CHARLES SKENE. De ‘ POETRY es oe ~" EOVE AND REPUTATION A FABLE. ON ce on the ways as fable tells, Love, Reputation greeted 5 The first, like modern friends, seem’d frank, The other, éhy, retreated. « Sir Gravity,” said sptightly Loves. «¢ Shall L my schemes unravel ? «¢ Companions fair ! yet once for whim, s Together let us travel. mreeerT Nor is this league, with empty views» if cé On either side invited 5 «© Pert Slander, hall in vain efsay, « On you, or me, united.”” Agreed'!—away flies eager Love, - His wings outstripp’d the winds, Whilst Reputation, slow of foot, Come lagging far behind. Love stop’d, impatient at his stays” And cried, ‘¢ if thus I tarry, «© How many matches fhall I spoil ¢ How. many prudés miscarry 2 & How many vot’ries fhall I lose ? « Yet not my faith to sully, _ J'll teach thee, my dear friend, though news, , To mark my progrefs duly.. ee When towns I seek, a wing I'l plume, « Your guide to trace me thither, « At masquerades, afsemblies, balls, é© You ne’er {hall mifs a feather.” © Soft! soft!’ said Reputation, ‘ childs. ¢ To these I rarely come 5 , © So master Love, again you're frees. ¢ In random flight to roam. v ye ‘jae ¢ Yet e’er we part, weigh well my words, / ¢ With strict attention mind me; : _ © Those whom I meet, and me direct», € Again fhall never. find me.’ 212 political progrefs of Britain. Oct. 1%. REVIEW. ’ 'THE POLITICAL PROGRESS OF BRITAIN; OR AN IMPARTIAL AC- COUNT OF THE PRINCIPAL ABUSES IN THE GOVERNMENT OF THIS COUNTRY, FROM THE REVOLUTION IN 1688, Tue WHOLE TENDING TO PROVE THE RUINOUS CONSEQUENCES OF THE POPULAR SYSTEM OF WAR AND CONQUEST,.PART FIRST.. Edinburgh, Rebertson and Berry, 1792. 15. Tur greatest part of this pamphlet as already ap- peared in the Bée, under the form of letters from Timo- thy Thunderproof, so that our readers are already in some _ measure Able to judge ofit. The author; in a fhort intro- duction, thus justly characterises the performance him- self. , ; ‘“‘ This pamphlet consists not of fluent declamation, but of curious, authenticated, and important facts, with a few fhort observations ifterspersed, which seemed necefsary to explainthem. The reader will meet with no mournful pe- riods to the memory of annual or trienmal parliaments ; for while the members are men, such as their predecefsors » have almost always been, it is but of small concern whe- ther they hold their places for life, or but for a single day. Some of our projectors are of opinion, that to fhorten the duration of parliament would be an ample remedy for all} our grievances. ‘The advantages ofa popular election have likewise been much extolled. Yet an acquaintance with Thucydides, or Plutarch, or Guicciardini, or Machiavel, may tend to calm the raptures of a republican ‘apostle. The plan of universal suffrages has been loudly recom- mended by the duke of Richmond; and, on the 16th of ' May 1782, that nobleman, seconded by Mr Horne Tooke, and Mr Pitt, was sitting in a tavern, composing advertise- ments of reformation for the newspapers. Murantur 1792 - political progrefs of Britain. — 203 Temrora! But had this plan been adopted, it is pofsible’ that we fhould, at this day, have looked back with regret: on the humiliating, yet tranquil despotism of a Scotch, or a Cornilh borough. “ The style of this work is concise and plain ; and it is. hoped that it will be found sufficiently respectful to all parties. The question to be decided is, are we to proceed with the war system ? Are we, in the progrefs of the nine- teenth century, to embrace five thousand freth taxes,—to squander a second five hundred millions sterling,—and to extirpate twenty millions of people?” The progrefs of human reason is ‘but slow ; and when any one begins to combat prejudices that have long been cherifhed by a whole nation, many individuals are displea- sed to find, that the doctrines they. have been accustomed from their infancy to think infallible, are treated with little respect. In this way, some readers will no doubt be displeased at meeting with the disagreeable truths which this pamphlet contains. Thus it was that many a well disposed Christian was fhocked at the b/asphemous heresies, as they were then called, of Wickliffe and of Luther: we now view them in another light. Thus it also was, that ten years ago, the first pamphlets that. were written to prove that Britain would bea gainer by the lofs of her Ameri- can colonies, were considered as absurd and ridiculous p2- radoxes, though no person now disputes the unerring truth of these conclusions ; and thus it ever will be with the first. efforts of reason towards eradicating prejudices. of every sort. No national prejudice is of longer standing, or has had @ more extensive influence in Europe, than the war system, or requires to he combated with greater ardour; because none has been productive of so much national mischief, or individual distrefs, National glory, the balance of power, 414 political progrefs of Britain. Oct. 10% and the extension of trade, are the principal pleas that have ever been urged for going to war; pleas that, if they are’ ddmitted, will be sufficient to perpetuate wars till there be! scarcely an individual of the human race existing on the globe. Can national glory ever be augmented by acts of rapine, bloodfhed, and injustice ? yet it is actions of this kind which have been cried up, as constituting national’ glory, from the sik of Cyrus to those of George m1. The balance of power! what is it but a bubble to amuse the mul- titude,—a pretext for exalting the favourite nation of the day, which we must pull down the next? Within this cen- tury Britain has expended her blood and treasure succef- sively to exalt and to abase almost every power in Eu- rope; and so it ever must be, while this Quixote doctrine prevails. Heaven alone can set bounds to the power of em- pires, which cannot be overcome ; and nothing - else ever will do it effectually, till tthe fhall be endowed with a greater degree of foreknowledge, honesty, and steadinels, than they ever yet have pofsefsed. As to wars for the ex- tension of trade, of all the absurdities that ever marked’ the ravings of the human mind, that is doubtlefs the most remarkable :—it amounts to this,—to make other nations purchase your goods to\a greater extent you must enhance the price of these goods;—to make a customer buy them in greater quantities, you must render those purcha- sers poorer than they otherwise would have been. The public are indeed amused by a grand display of treaties and restraints, by which this trade is to be forced, by in- niquitous stipulations, to run in their favours: as if every: man of common sense did not know, that it would’be: equally wise to attempt to make the sea flow upwards om. the side ‘of a hill, as to continue in any nation a brifk de-- mand for goods that are dearer or worse in quality ean those of neighbouring countries. 7792. political-progrefs of Britain. 216 _ War can serve no other good purpose therefore but to “augment the power of the minister, by furnifhing indivi- duals with the means of suddenly enriching themselves by plunder, at the expence of the community at large. It is the hope of this plunder that makes so many voices join in the favourite cry-of national glory,—balance of power,—and benefits of trade. It is the hopes of profiting by their aid, in gulling the people at large, that the minister so cordially ever leads the van in this general cry. Shall man ever continue a child, and allow himself to be led to destruction in leading strings ? . The writer of the pamphlet before us, has here lent his aid to throw into disrepute the system of war. There still remains a wide field for discufsion with regard to other doctrines, that have been cherithed for ages from the same motives, to whichhe has not extended his views. ‘These, it is hoped, will come succefsively to be examined, by persons who have the national good at heart ; and whe have no connection with party ; no prejudice at individu- _al men ; no hopes of being benefitted by the plunder either of enemies or of friends: for when once plunder becomes the object, the experience of ages clearly proves, that men have ever fhowed themselves as eager to obtain it from their neighbours as from strangers, —from their friends as from their foes. Many of the readers of the Bee have imagined that Mr Thunderproof is inimical to the present minister; but this ° opinion does not appear to be well founded. One of the national prejudices that ever has, and probably ever will _prevail,is, that the present minister, whoever he be, ought to be deemed in some measure sacred ; and that every per- son who does not speak and write in that manner, must be ranked among those who have set themselves in opposi- tion to him, and who, right or wrong, will oppose every 316 political progre/s of Britain, Oct. 164 “measure that he fhall adopt. There can be no doubt that every minister will endeavour to cherifh this opinion, be- -eause it tends to screen his conduct for the present from an impartial ‘investigation. It much imports the welfare of the state that this prejudice fhould be removed, and the writer deserves well of the community for having endea- “woured to weaken it. Of any individual we with not to speak ; but there can be no doubt but every minister, ex off cio, lies under very strong temptations to impose upon the people, and to Jead the nation into undertakings that have a necefsary tendency to diminifh its general prosperity. “His conduct therefore fhould be at all times nicely watched. And though he fhould be cordially supported, wherever it is necefgary to give the executive department its ful- lest energy ;>yet in every attempt to extend his power beyond proper limits, in Azs /egis/ative capacity, he fhould be checked with a becoming firmnefs. The distinction here made has been hitherto but too little attended to by political writers. A circumstance, which, for not having been a¢ a// adverted to in a neighbouring nation, has pro- duced a scene of confusion, and multiplied atrocities, that makes the human mind fhudder with horror. From notat- tending to this circumstance, also, many writings that perhaps wereas well intended as any that ever ifsued from the prefs, may become extremely pernicious ; and numbers of men, whose hearts glow with philanthropy, feel themselves at this moment disposed to lend their aid in forwarding mea- sures, which, if adopted, would prove in the highest degree destructive to the community and ruinous to individuals. A little time, and a more perfect knowledge of the efsen- tials that constitute the true principles of a rational free- dom in government, will probably tend to moderate these incautious wanderings. 379% political progrefs of Britain. ba) A circumstance is mentioned in the above quotation that deserves to be attended to at present. The most perfect security of person and property constitutes the very ef- sence of civil liberty ; and could that be insured by an universal liberty of suffrage for representatives, every man ought to promote sucha measure ; but if experience fhows that this circumstance alone has never been sufficient to insure any thing like that security, it must be deemed a matter of very little moment at least. If it has proved destructive, it ought to be avoided. It would be well if gentlemen who are zealous in this cause, would consult the authorities there quoted, and satisfy themselves upon this head, before they place their whole reliance on a cir- cumstance, which may, perhaps, instead of a prop on which they can safely lean, turn out to bea spear that fhall pierce them to the heart. The following curious fact respecting this circumstance deserves to be noted. The whole male inhabitants of the canton of Bale in Switzerland, on the first institution of that republic, had a right of voting for their rulers: but experience soon taught them, that this universal pri- vilege of voting, was by no means sufficient to guard a- gainst the influence of wealth and popular manners. Still more effectually to do this, the mode of election was va- ried. Every man continued to retain the right of suff- rage, as before; but instead of one, every vote included three persons, one of which was to be chosen dy /ot. Still, however, influence was found to have great sway in the e- lections, and it was deemed necefsary, on this account, once more to change it. Instead of three, every vote was made to include six persons, one of whom only can be chosen, and that must be done dy /ot. In this state things re- main at present. Jt requires not much foresight to see, that for the same reason as formerly, they will find it necef- VOL. X1, EE t a8 ptlizeal progréfs of Britain. Oct: 1% gary once more to alter their mode of etection; for the in- fluence of wealth and popular ‘manners, can never be fully excluded, until the election fhall be made entirely by lat. I cannot help recommending this proposition to the atten- tive consideration of those who with to preserve the pub- lic tranquillity, and at the same time to exclude influence entirely from the .elections in Britain. "Were the qualifi- éations necefsary for candidates properly defined, and’ the law in that respect duly inforced*, I can'see no objec- * If, for example, we withed totally to exclude every kind of influence at elections, I fhould be glad to know what objections could be made te the following regulations, «iz. let a law be made which ordains, 1. That no person can be elected till he has attained the age of 25 years complete. And, 2. That no person who has-ever lived for ten, years at a time outof Bri- tain, or at Jeast out of Europe, can ever be eligible. And 3. Who has had his principa! residence in the county where he becomes a candidate, for three years at least, preceding the day of election. Andy 4. Who pofsefses in his own right in landed property, the value of three hundred pounds of real rents, at least, free of deductions, or enjoys an in- come, if in businefs, at least of five hundred pounds a-year. - All these facts to bé ascertained by a jury of honest men in che Vicinage, who fhall take cogn'since of them at the afsizes immediately preceding the election, and whose verdict must be produced to the returning officer be- fore the candidate can be put upon the ballot. Thus every scrutiny and expensive invest’gation into the legality of clatments would be avoided, and the necefsity of delays precluded, Let as many candidates, thus.gualified, 2s pleased, come forward at the time of election. Let one who had been a candidate at some former pe- riod, but not at present, be chosen from among those present by lot, as the seturning officer. Leta number of smallrods, of unequal lengths, but in every other respect, the same be provided, in. number the same as that of tle candidates ; and another equal number of rods, having the name of one of the candidates written upon each. -Let all the rods, of one’sort be fha-~ ken and mixed carelefsly together before the meeting, and then-so/ placed that one ef the ends may project a little beyond a cover, and all ranged equal, the writing on the one set being entirely concealed. Let a man wien be provided, who, by an inquest before a jury, fhall have been previe | aa potiticad progrefs of Britain; 219 tion to this mode of election but one, viz. that. it would but too’ perfectly effect the purpose proposed.. Such a regulation would set the court and the. opposition alike ously found to be perfectly blind. Let this man draw: first a blank rod from one side, the length of which fhall be ascertained by measuring it on a rod, within view of the meeting, and the precise length of it called out with an audible voice by the returning officer, and marked by the clerk. Let then another rod be drawn from the opposite side, with the name of the candidate uponit, which hall also be held up in the sight of all present, so as-to be legible to them ; after which the name fhall be publicly annoan-' ced by the.returning officer to the clerk, who fhall mark it opposite to the measure of the rod before announced ; and so’on, til! the whole-are finifhed- The clerk thal} then read over the whole deliberately, and with an ave - dible voice, making a pause before every name. This fhall then be _pre- sented to the returning officer, whorfhall declare which of the candidates ii2s obtained the longest or the fhortest rod, (as had.been previously agreed) and who is of course to be the member for this time, then signing the pa- per with the return upon it, send it to the person authorised to receive the same. And thus ends theelection. Tf those who plead for a reform at present, are seriously desirous of ob. taining the object they profefs, a representation tAially unbiafs:d by the - power of the crown, orany other influence, they cannot object to this pro- posal; and in that'case the great objection to frequent elections, viz, the lofs of labour, andthe disturbances which then occur, would sbe entirely done away, so that even annual parliaments, if thought proper, might. be adopted. I co not pretend.to say whether this would be the best: mode of elections pofsible; all that is contended for, is, that the influence now so loudly complained of, would be effectually avoided ; so that if the reformers reject it they must clearly abandon‘their principle, which will’ prove thet - some other object is in view than that which isheld out to the public. It is unnecefsary to observe, that, on this plan, acertain numberof the confidential servants ofthe crown, to be distinctly specifiedin the bill, thall be members of parliament, ex officio; for national businefs could never: be carried on without them: no o>jection can arise from this circumstance , becau se these would be necefsarily confined to such asmall proportion of. _ the afsembly that their number could-have little effect in determining a - majority. For the reasons afsigned in the text, no person will believe - that I could seriously expect that this regulation will ever be adopted in: Britain. ~ 220 political progrefs of Britain. Oct. 10. at defiance. It would equally frustrate the views of whigs and of tories,—of aristocrates and democrates,— it would diminith the emoluments of lawyers, and dis- appoint the rapacity of voters. Who then is to support such a proposal? All the active interested turbulent spirits. of the nation would cordially unite to execrate it. It could be relifhed only by quiet, peaceable, honest men ; but such men choose to remain in the bosom of their own families, enjoying the blefsings of tranquillity, while all the others are up in arms against it. Our author in the course of his work makes some quotations. from Dodington’s diary, 2 book too little-known; for of all the publications that ever ifsued from the prefs in Britain, this one contains the fullest developement of the farce. of government. In that work are produced many authentic proofs of the most popular ministers recommending in par- liament the difsipating of national wealth, under pretexts that they knew to be false, and opposition even concur- ring in these measures, knowing them to be false, rather than run the risk of disobliging certain persons, The same thing has occurred during the political life of persons now onthe stage. Yetaslong as ministers fhall have places and money to bestow, they will continue to be idolized by their party ; and as long as others expect to get into place, they will take care not to touch upon certain topics that they think tootender to be publicly investigated by them. Let us not deceive ourselves. In the political world, the love of plunder is the universal pafsion. . Its influ- ence is there as universal, as that of gravitation in the physical world. It is this which, like affinities in chemistry, is the cause of all those wonderful combinations and se- parations, which keep the universe in a perpetual state of hostilities and ferment ;- it is this all. powerful agent which sets reason at defiance, and overturns in a mo- ment her sovereign decrees. By its irresistible influence» 1792. : political progre/s of Britain. 225 we see Britain founding frefh colonies, at the very. mo- ment that reason, supported by the. most decisive ex~ perience, has convinced every thinking person in the na- tion that we made a most valuable acquisition, when. we lost our American colonies. By its influence we see the Britith arms employed to extend our empire, as we vain- ly call it, in the east, at the very time that we.are profefsedly execrating war and conquest. | When eco- tomy is the favourite topic of the day, we are lavifhing our treasures in enterprises, from year to year, that can have no other tendency but to generate frefh wars, and accu- mulated expences to an indefinite extent. All these things the love of plunder can perform 3 it can do more,—it can cause the most extensive monopoly in trade that ever existed, be cherifhed in the heart of a nation which boasts of its freedom, and execrates monopolies in trade. Under the influence of this all powerful agent, prosecutions against delinquents are commenced ; by its influence also they are suspended ; individuals are allowed to raise the price of articles, of universal consumption, almost to what height they please, by a careful exclusion of all others from coming into a fair competition with them.—We fhould never have done, were we to enumerate the hundredth part of the things that can be effected by this domineering and irresistible agent, that has so long extended its ravages in the world. The writer of the pamphlet under consideration, has traced, with a bold outline, some of its effects im the higher departments of society; but he has in a great measure lost sight of it among the /ower orders of people,. where its influence is as extensive, and where it rages with as unlimited sway, as among their ‘superiors. _ He proves, that some princes are extravagant, ministers prodigal, and parliaments venal; from all which many will probably 222 politicul progre/s of Britain. Oct. 10% infer, that princes are pernicious, ministers destructive, and parliaments uselefs. But unlefs it could be proved, that the electors are lefs venal than the elected; that the lower orders of people are lefs corrupted than the higher; that the illiterate have more knowledge than the Jearned ;. and that personal property will be more anxiously pre- served inviolate by those who have little to lose, than by those.who have much at stake, we fhall be obliged to admit that, notwithstanding all the weaknefs, extravagance, and follies:of the higher ranks, it is by ne means clear that we fhould be gainers by transferring power from- their hands into the hands of others, who would in all human probability be weaker, more extravagant, foolith, and wicked than the others. Indeed the experience of all past times fully proves, that, among a people whose morals are already lax, whose manners are corrupted by luxury, and whese conduct is not influenced by the ties of religion, the people would not probably, but certainly, be . more corrupted and base. than their superiors. | Witnefs the fhocking scenes at present acting in France, which it is impofsible to mention without horror, Scenes which, for atrocity, have no parallel in history ; but which, in hind, more nearly resemble the transactions of the Roman Pretorian bands than any other. * To give power-to such persons, isto kindle. a fire that consumes, and. which can only be extinguifhed by the destruction of the whole. mafs. While we remain in this world, evils must subsist ; and under every arrangement of things, wickednefs must still abound. If therefore we were to reject every govern- ment that is imperfect, we would annihilate the whole ; and every man would, of course, pillage, rob, or murder at pleasure, another who was weaker than himself, That government is surely the most perfect, which is so con- 18792. political progré/s of Britain. 223, “stituted as to be able to protect individuals, and p reserve sgood order, even where vices and errors subsist among ‘both the governing, and the governed. An institution which necefsarily supposes that wrtwe must undoubtedly prevail among the one or the other, #s by no means cal- culated for man in an advanced stage of civil society, nor can such a form of ‘government any ‘where subsist, for a continuance of time. Our businefs, therefore, ought to be, never'to hope to extirpate vice,—to eradicate error,— ‘nor to be able to lop away every species of corruption; _ bat to correct errors in the best way we can, wherever we discover them,—to lefsen the influence of vice, and to moderate the effects of corruption. Had the writer of these efsays bestowed as much attention on the influence that the corruption and vices of the lower ranks of the community produce, or would produce, if unrestrained, as he has done with regard to those of the higher orders ; and had he with a patient discrimination suggested the means by which the one and the other might have been effectually moderated, he would have conferred an efsential benefit on ‘mankind. As he has omitted to do this, the-efsays'can have no other good tendency, but to rouse the attention of the rea- der to a few objects that surely highly deserve his notice. These things fhould have been done, and the others not left undone. It is extremely doubtful however, if much good ‘can result from this kind of partia/investigation. To amind warmed by philanthropy, and illuminated by knowledge, it would-seem that an effectual cure fhould be ready pre- scribed before the wound is probed; otherwise, it is like. opening a sluice, before a channel has been prepared’ to receive the superabundant water. In that case it’ must acca-ion infinite havoc before it can work out a natural channel for itself. But it is an easy matter to point out errors ; it requires talents of avery different kind to com- ‘ ' 224 notice of Billings’s discoveries. O ct. 10 prehend the means of correcting these. Thinking superficial. — ly, and writing boldly, is all that is necefsary for she one ; -a mind capable of the most vigorous stretch of compre- hension is required for the other : a pamphlet may suffice. for the one ; but for the other, a work of great extent, ‘and profound investigation, would be required. Need I add, that the first would have many readers, who would think they understood, and therefore who liked it; the last would find few who would read it, and fewer still whe could comprehend it. NOTICE OF BILLINGS’s DISCOVERIES IN THE NORTHERN ARCHIPELAGO. -Oug readers are already informed of the general progrefs. made by captain Billings, Bee vol.ix. p. 61. That enter- prising navigator, in the course of his voyages among the northern Archipelago, picked up a great many animals, plants, and articles of drefs of the natives, which he sent in s*veral boxes to the emprefs. Mr Palias had'not had lei- sure at the time our information left Rufsia, to examine the animals; but he had distinguifhed among the plants, several new kinds of sophoro, croton, gnaphalium, andromeda, poten- tilla, artemisia, and rhododendron ;—a black lily, whose roots are tuberculose, and serve as food to the natives;—a new perennial gramina, whose stalk is very large, and contains a great quantity of grain proper for the nourishment of man ;—several /egumina, likewise fit for food, —a kind of fit,—a_ species of sorbus,—and a dwarf willow. ‘These trees, which’ do not rise above three feet high, are the on- ly ones which grow in the isles Kourites and Alcoates, where they found the Alpine plants of Kamschatka and Si- beria. It is much to be regretted, that captain Billings could not send seeds of these plants, as he visited these islands, before they had attained maturity. ; Notes to correspondents deferred.. MfsceiLnannovs PiavrE, ror THE Bue. ck S es +t. Be. Aseoses020 7% 7 228 ee TERR es 97 THE BEE, OR LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FOR Wepnespbay, OcTOBER 17. 1792. CONCERNING THE INFLUENCE OF TASTE ON THE HAPPINESS AND GLORY OF NATIONS. Concluded from p. 161. Havine considered how taste promotes the happinefs of individuals, of families, and of society, I am to con- clude the whole of my discourse concerning this im- portant subject, by pointing out the effects of its in- fluence upon the prosperity and happinefs of the pub- lic at large. Taste, (says the excellent Montesquieu,) in the. most general definition of it, without considering whether good or bad, just or not just, is ‘* that which attaches us to a thing by sentiment.”* Inthe former part of’this slight efsay I have endeavoured to fhow how the principles of taste are evolved in the pur- suits and habits of those who have been fortunately emancipated from, the grovelling desire of sensual pleasure, and how it operates inthe infinite ex- tent of rational curiosity, where one clear idea leads * Montesquieu on taste, a fragment. See Dodsley’s annual register, vo- lume i. p 311. + WOL. xi, FF ¢ 226 on theinfluence of taste. ~° Oct. 17- to the pursuit of another, in a chain whose beginning is no where, and whose links are every where, after the nature of that infinite and perfect Being in whom we live, and move, and have our existence, aud whom we can only resemble when we raise ourselves above the range of brutal enjoyment. 3 2dly, In the pleasure derived from the {contempla- tion of order; and of order amid variety. 3d/y, In the pleasure arising from symmetry or of fitnefs and utility. 4z¢b/y, In the pleasure that arises from contrast. 5¢b/y, From surprise, terminating in a scientific acquaintance with the cause from whence it arose. 6thly, In delicacy of sensation which enables us to feast onthe graces that are evanescent or linpal- pable to the eye and apprehension of the sensualist. And finally, in the complete establifhment of the habit of intellectual desire uncontrouled by vulgar appetite, or enervated by idlenefs and sloth. Now, it is evident, that as a nation, or what we call, in the most extensive acceptation of the word, the public, is no more than the aggregate of indivi- duals, families, and communities, so whatever can render the parts more perfect, must tend to the eee fection and happinefs of the whole. : But the subject is so delightful and tmportant, that ‘I fhall be easily forgiven when I fhall have traced the more immediate effects that must be produced: upon the active powers of government, and upon a ‘people at large, by the difsemination of that taste which is the subject of my present discourse. Tt was undoubtedly to the difsemination of taste - - ' 3792. on the influence of taste. 227 | among the richer and higher ranks of men in Greece and Italy, that mankind were indebted for any relax~" ations of that fhocking and barbarous disparity which took’place among their feudal and military instituti- Ons, where the prince and the soldier were every thing, andthe people nothing. "It was to the same existing causes, encreased by the intervention cf the printing prefs and the engra- ver, that France, under a similar Ailyeiaicce from the reign of Henry 1. to the death of Lewis xtv- enjoyed the small degree of happinefs that fell to its fhare, during those times of trouble, or of monarchical vanity and ambition; and to the same causes France and the world is indebted for the pre- eminence that good sense has obtained over 'the en- slaving maxims of an all-grasping church or turbu- lent nobility. By this very taste, or power, or sentiment, opera- ting extensively through the channels of literature, maukind are now satisfied that the happinefs of the “people ought to be the supreme law, and tne rule of all government, as well as its final object in its ad- ministration. I know very well that the extensive difsemination of taste and sentiment among the lower’ranks of men, is scouted by the great and opulent; and by. @ monstrous delusion is not approved of by some, who, in the odour of diabolical antiquarianism, a- dore the rust of chains that are ancient, and are care- Jefs of those things that are of universal utility, and general concern, and competent to all men. But a light has begun nowto fhine out of dablenets) which, though it makes the eyes of the darkling to / 228 society of Arcadia. Oct. 17. blink, and seems like a bright and airy meteor that is destined to perifh, will, in the end, be chosen rather than darknefs, if our deeds are not evil, ‘and will fhine more and more towards the perfect. day of political perfection. It is for this reason that J prefer the communica- tion of scientific, moral, and political knowledge, ina. pamphlet or a magazine, to fifty volumes in folio of the fathers, or of the commentary of Aristotle ;. and that I have thought my time well bestowed in -con- veying to the people at large, through the channel of this miscellany, the imperfect efsay of its wellwifher and reader. . A.B. * : ; ACCOUNT OF THE SOCIETY OF ARCADIA, BY/ABBE TOURNER. : Concluded from p- 88. Tue Parrhasian grove, (i Bosco Parrasto) where the Arcadians afsemble in summer to repeat their com- positions, was first in a small forest belonging to the convent of St Pietro in Montorio; from this the de- nomination was transferred to a place in the villa of the duke of Pagenica at St Pietro in Vincoli, where the fhepherds had no other place to sit upon but the grafs. Until this time no body was admitted except whe Arcadians ; but their fame attracted many who. requested to attend as auditors, and in a hort time no * The Editor ismuch indebted to this obl'g'ng correspondent for these ingenivus efsays, though he cannot help thinking they would have beem more generally relifhed, had the ilJustrations had lefs tendency to political affairs. On this subject men’s opinions will always differ ; and conse- quently arguments, though just, when thus illustrated, lose of their effects Ttis for future correspondents this hist is intended. £902. society of Arcadia. 229 “person was denied admifsion. They obliged the Ar- -cadians to afsemble in a larger place which was in the gardens of duke Rzario, at present belonging to the Corsini family, which the queen of Sweden had formerly pofsefsed. In the year 1693, the duke of Parma built a theatre for them on mount Palatine; but the duke’s minister at the court of Rome having taken some umbrage at an eclogue repeated by two Ar- cadians, the generalafsembly, in ordertoavoid alldisa- greeable encounters, prudently found means to remove from the Ortz Pa/atini, without giving offence to the duke. This happened in 1699, and Itiso (duke Antonio Salviati,) invited the Arcadians to his gar- dens at the Lungara. His death in £704, obliged them to perform in the following year the Olympic games in honour of the deceased Arcadians, in the gardens of Eutimene, (prince Vincenzo Giustiniani, } out of the Flaminian gate. In 1707, they were re- ceived by Olinto, (prince Francis Ruspoli,) in his gardens on the Esgui/in. Five years.after, the same Olinto caused a magnificent theatre to be prepared, of three orders of seats, and a statue of Apollo at one end, in another garden of his, on the Aventin. , At length when king John v. of Portugal was ac- clamated an. Arcadian fhepherd, under the nam of Arete Melléo, afsigning to him the Medlean lands, which had been in pofsefsion of the deceased Alnano, (pope Clement x1.) he made a present to the Arca- ' dia of four thousand crowns, with which a piece of ‘ground was bought on the declivity of the Granicu- lum, in the year 1726; since which time this society 230. society of Arcadia. Oct. 17+ have enjoyed it, and have, in the summer time, their public and private meetings. The form is of a small simple amphitheatre, with three rows ofstoneseats, sur- rounded with fine luxuriant laurel trees; the walls that enclose the amphitheatre are decorated with marble inscriptions tothe memory ofthe deceased Ar- acdians, who either had, by an universal renown, ad- ded particular lustre to the society of Arcadia, or had bestowed ‘upon it some extraordinary favour. . The first, that had this honour.decreed to him, se- ven years aftet the institution of Arcadia, was Ami- cio (Dr Francesco Redi,) well known as a profound philosopher, and an elegant poet. To obtain such a degree, one of the Arcadians presents a request for, making an inscription to the memory of any one he thinks deserving of such a distinction. ‘The custode | then gives the commifsion to some fit person of the society to write his life, which is submitted to the inspection of three other Arcadians, in order to ex- amine whether, from it, there results the universal fame required, after which they give their opinion in wri- ting, and the person who makes the request, 1s at the . expence of the stone, as well as of the portrait in cop- perplate, which, with a copy of the inscription, is pre- fixed to the life that is printed when there is a suffi- cient number to makea volume. There are already five volumes in 4to of them, and materials ready for BR sixth *, * As a specimen of the true, neat s'mplicity of the lapidary stile, Ihave chosen four of the inscriptions, out of the many that exist. The first is to the memory of Vincenzo Leonio; the second of pope Clement x13 the third of Vincenzo Viviani, the last scholar of Galileo; and the fourth of the Marchesa Petronilla 7Zafsini, an eleg wnt poztefs. 1792. - society of Arcadia. 23% _ La Capanna del Serbatojo is the name that the founders of this pastoral society gave to the place, I, 7 CoV Gs Uranio Tegzo, P. A. xiii. Viro Institutorum Arcadia Italicaeque Poeseos ‘ . soe Rome Restitutorum Principi Coetus Arcadum P. : Ol. pcxxiv. ann. iii, ab A.T. O}. virs. ann. ii, if. CLViLG: Alnano Melleo Arcadi Acc). Pastorum Maximo Coetus Arcadum P. Ql. pcxxy. ann. i. ab A. I. Ol}. vir. ann. lig Cum Luai Agerentur, ———————— Tif. ¢ Covi Heroni Geonio P. A. Df. Mathematico Arnaurus Epirius P. A. x11. Vr. Col!. r. Arc. SoLd. F.C. @). pcxxt. ann.i. ab A.T, Ol. rv. anniil. C,L. A. enamine ee lV. CoV, G, *Fidalmez Parthenidi N. A. ° Poetriz Bandalius Phezzzus P. A. Molieri Clarifs, P. . Ol. pcxxvi. ann. ii. ab 4.1. Ol. x. ann. i. After a revolution of three or four thousand years, in which time Eu» | rope may have been buried again in the darknefs of ignorance, and all mo- numents of learning destroyed, if these inscriptions fhall happen to be cug ‘up again, what excellent focd for the conjectural imaginations of antiqua- sians ! ‘ 232 society of Arcadia. ; Oct. 17 ‘where are preserved the compositions, either in prose or in verse, which have been repeated in the Parrhasi- an grove, besides letters of Arcadians, relating either’ Arcadic or literary businefs ; and other authentic pa- pers belonging to the society, the original catalogue of the Arcadians, the emblems of all the colonies, the narration of all the deeds of Arcadia, (Fasti Arcadici) the seals, and the portraits of many Arcadians, as it is permitted to every one to send his own. The si- tuation of the Serbatojo has always been, until now, in the lodgings of the custede. It may be not only looked apon as the register office of 4rcadia.; but likewise as its secretary office ; for all the diplomas are dated from the Capanna ded Serbatojo. In the time © that the Parrhasian grove is not kept open, from the 7th October, to the 1st May, the Arcadians afsemble in the Serbatojo, to transact their businefs, and re- peat their compositions. In the guardianfhip of Fi- facida Lnciniano, (Abate Lorenzini,) for some rea- sons of his, the Parrhasian grove was not opened for many years, and then the custom took place to have private afsemblies every Thursday in the Serbatojo, which are now continued, beside the public ones. But Lorenzini to make amends for this silence, erec- ted a little theatre near the Serbatojo, where he cau- sed the comedies of Pfautus and of Terentius to be acted by several young gentlemen, who perform- ed to such perfection, and with all the decorati- ons in character, that not only all the literati, the no- bility, foreign ambafsadors, and cardirials, frequented this new fhow ; but pope Clement x11, Corsini, sent several times to Lorenzini large sums of money, in 1992. society of Arcadia. 233 order to enable him to have the Latin comedies repre- sented with the necefsary decorum. The theatre got the name of Sala Latina; and the cardinals Gentilz and Corsini were declared protectors of it. ° The public afsemblies for the rehearsal of composi- tions in the Serbatojo, are no lefs frequented than at the Bosco Parrasio ; but it is extraordinarily so when it is known that there is /*mproviso or singing po- etry, extempore, a prerogative which I believe is pe- -culiar to Italy. Sometimes the poets will challenge one another in rhime, and find out reciprocally a sub- ject ; at other times any of the company is invited to give a subject, which, if there be two or three zm- provisatorz, is generally of the problematic kind, that each may choose an opinion, and thus form an agreeable contention. Two or three different sub- jects have been given by different persons at the same time to Abate Serio, a Neapolitan; he makes one of them the principal subject, and introduces the others as episodes ; and thus goes on for an hour or two sing- ing poetry extempore. Amongthe old Arcadians were famous for improvisare, Tirsi, the (4vvocato Zappi,). Benaco, (Cononico Grazzint,) Fedreo, (Giuseppe Vac~ cart, ) Eulibio,( Paolo Roth, ) Fausto, (Paolo Vannini,) Eniso, (Domenico Ottavio Petrosellini,) Artino, (Pietre Metastasio,) from his younger years, and Alauro, (Cavalier Perfetti,) who at the request of the princefs Violante of Bavaria, dowager of Tuscany, then in Rome, got the laurel crown in the Capitol; which coronation was very much opposed, as it was al- * VOL. Xi. GG < + 324 society of Arcadia. Oct. 2% leged that the laurel crown was at all times reser= ved only for epic poetry, as indeed all those who had been crowned in the Capitol before him had been so on account of their epic poems, exclusive of their other poetical performances. In the latter times we have had Acromelo, (Agostino Germisoni,) Euridalco, (Abate Golt,) Aurasio, (Abate Versari, ) Enistldo, (Abate Giu- seppe Petrosellint *,) Abate Rocchetti, Abate Berardi, Abate Casali, Giacomo Diolle; and Giuseppe Giordani, who have displayed in Arcadia their talents in sing- ing poetry extempore; the two last particularly ex- celled in the jocose style. Two ladies, likewise, Arca- .dian nymphs, have made the Serbatojo resound with their elegant zmproviso: Efiria Corilea, (Signora dune Parisatti Beati,) and Cortlla Olimpica, ( Signora Mad- dalena Morelli Fernandez.) ‘The latter was likewise crowned in the Capitol; but fhe was rather sacrificed, by the foolifh manner the businefs was brought a- bout by her protectors, who were besides nowise acceptable to the public ; so that it had more the ap- pearance of a mock coronation, than any thingelse. I cannot take leave of this subject without making par- ticular mention of another Arcadian nymph, although fhe has never been at Rome, and who is the admira- tion, not only of her own countrymen, but of all foreigners of learning and taste who have the op- portunity of conversing with her, on account of her profound knowledge, united to extreme modesty, and of the most pleasing entertainment they enjoy fromher readineds in the zmproviso, wherein the most, deep sei- ence iselegantly set off by the most chaste beauties * Some of the Arcadian names have escaped my memory. 2792. society of Arcadia. 235 of true poetry; I mean Temira Parraside, (Signo- va Fortunata Sulcker Fantastici,) in Florence. In the - same town I have had the pleasure to be intimately acquainted with Dr Giannetti, who, to application to the severest studies, has added the amenities of the fine arts. The astonifhing rapidity with which he speaks his extempore poetical performances makes up for his want of voice, which hinders him to sing at the sound of the luthe, as is commonly in use with the improvisatort, though Corilla used to sing her poetry at the sound of the violin, especially where the could meet with Nardin:. Nor is this ready disposition to extempore poctry peculiar to people of education; that natural keennefs of sense for harmony, numbers, and metre, which may be reckoned one of the first things requisite to forma poet, is not rare in Italy, even among the country lads and girls, chiefly in the environs of Rome and Florence, who, not knowing even to read, and total- ly ignorant of metrical laws, will sing verses all’ improviso upon any given subject, suited to their ca- pacity, with the only guide of their-¢ar, without ever transgrefsing the accents or the measure ; though many learned people, and well eequainted with the laws of versification, would fini! it: very difficult to execute, without counting the syilables on their fingers. It is pleasant in Rome, in the summer nights, to. follow some of these jolly fellows, most of them journeymen mechanics, and hear them sing their rhapsodies, in which many fine, natural, un- sought poetical flafhes, lighten through the clouds of their uncouth language. The like ,leasure was for- 236 society of Arcadia. Oct. 144 merly enjoyed in Florence, at Ponte Santa Trinita, where the zmprovisatort would resort with their luthe, or their guittar, and challenge one another to sing, like the fhepherds of Theocritus or Virgil. This was in the joyful days of the Medicis. _Thus- cany is now more like a mournful daughter, heartily bewailing the lofs of a tender, careful, and indulgent father ;—her times are changed ; even her language, one of her chief boasts, is corrupted,—Frenchified by the Lorainese, and Germanised by the Austrians that have crept among her inhabitants with her new masters. The ordinary method of being admitted a member of the society of Arcadia, is to be proposed by two of the Arcadians, who answer for his abilities and — good behaviour; and every person that has had a good education may be admitted. But when the — fame of the Arcadians began to spread, and ‘that people of rank, and cardinals began to frequent as auditors, which at first was permitted only to the Arcadians, the custode Alfesibéo devised the admif- sion by acclamation. The cardinals who were most afsiduous in attending their rehearsals were Carpeg- na, Buonvisi, Panjlio, Ottobont, and Albant, who was afterwards exalted to’the pontificat. In the year 1695, one day they had been all five attending the first meeting the Arcadians had in that year, a gene- ral afsembly was formed, and when the cardinals were gone out, they were unanimously, vzva voce, ac- calmated Arcadian fhepherds; and it was afterwards decreed, that none fhould be received an Arcadian, by acclamation, but monarchs and sovereign princes, 792. society of Arcadia. 2 34 cardinals, grand masters of military orders, the sena« tor of Rome, viceroys, ambafsadors of princes or republics, and the nephews of popes actually reign ing. The deduction of colonies was one of the strong- est instruments the Romans made use of, even from the times of Romulus, to form and to maintain the happinefs and splendour of their wise common- wealth, and their powerful empire. By easily admit- ting strangers to the privilege of Roman citizens, and by sending citizens from Rome, among foreign nations, Rome did, in a manner, form one people of the many nations fhe conquered, and gradually_ conveyed to them her manners, and her laws; and establifhed by her prudence, what fhe had acquired by her valour. Although I do not pretend to comparg with the real dominion of the Roman re- public, the affairs of our literary afsembly, which are only imaginary, yet, I may say, that by the same ‘means which ancient Rome made use of to make ‘all the nations become Romans, our 4rcadia has ate ‘tained to make one body of all the “teratz, at least the Italians, to the purpose of propagating that good taste in writing, which had been adopted by the ‘Arcadians, and which at that period was not to be found among others ; and in order that Italy fhould mecover the pofsefsion of thinking justly, and of writing according to the rules and the models of her own best authors. The means to attain this, have been an easy reception of any person that dis- ‘covered a genius capable of fhining some day or ether in the scrences or belles lettres ; and in deduce» ! 238 saciety of Arcadia. Oct. 17, ting colonies’ among the literati who were far from Rome. By the first, youth is accustomed to imbibe early the best stile; and, by the second, the same good stile has been introduced and is preserved among the most lively, and most illustrious geniuses of Italy. There are above sixty of these colonies, in different parts of Italy, and one even in Carinthia, in the town of Lubiana. The colonies depend on the general afsembly in some particular things; but are free to keep their literary afsemblies when and where, and on what sub- ject they please, and create their own magistrates, and choose their censors. The authority the gene- ral afsembly has reserved to itself over them, is to ratify the choice of their new fhepherds, and deliver their diplomas, without which they are not considered as Arcadians ; to choose the wice custode of the colony out of the two presented by the colony; to decide the disputes which may arise in the colonies; and the approbation of the works which are intended for the prefs, with the Arcadian names, or the arms of the colony, or that of the general afsembly. The arms or emblem of Arcadia, 1s the seven reeds, or syringa, which the colonies quarter with their own. As the institutors oi this pastoral society had de- vised to conceal, under pastoral names, the persons who composed it, they likewise imagined to make use of the, Olympiads of the ancient Greeks in their date of time. Thus, after the course of about fifteen enturies, that the computation by Olympiads had ceased, our literary society reafsumed the use of it, and destined the. end of every Olympiad for the cele- 1792. society of Arcadia. 239) bration of the Olympic games, by substituting for the games formerly directed for bodily exercise, others establifh ed for the exertien of the mind and talents. The commifsion to settle perpetual Ephemerides to be observed in the affairs of Arcadia, was given to two famous astronomers, Se/vaggio, (Monsignor. Frances- co Bianchini,) and Act, (Dotter Eustachio Manfredi, ) who made their exact observations, and presented _ them to the general afsembly. in the year 1693, when it was decreed, that, from that time forward, all the businefs in Arcadia fhould be regulated ace cording tothem. The joyfuland melancholy days were fixed,—the first to be marked by the custode _ with a laurel branch,—the second with one of cy- prefs. Melancholy days, are those in which the death happens of an acclammated Arcadian, of a general custos, or of any that are actually colleagues or vice. custode of a colony ; joyful, that of the pope’s election, with the two following days; of any Arcadian being raised to be a sovereign, or a cardinal; ‘that of the election of a new custode ; and all those days in which there is the meeting of a general afsembly. Three particular days are considered perpetually joyful, the sth of October, on which this literary so- ciety was instituted; the 2zoth of May, when the laws were proclaimed ; and 25th of December, in which falls the commemoration of the nativity of Fesus Christ, the tutelar saint of Arcadia. From this rough fketch, one may well understand, in what esteem and renown our pastoral society has, from its infancy, been held all over Italy, so as to make all the Italian /iterati willingly submit to 240 en personal pronouns. Ott. 1%. the revolution it produced in reforming the bad taste that prevailed in that time; to induce all the Italian sovereigns to encourage literary afsemblies in their dominions, as colonies of the Roman Arcadia, and many of them to become Arcadian fhepherds them- selves ; and to favour, with all their power, this li- terary society, far from having the least jealousy that the appearance of so perfect a democratical government, might ever influence to the destruction of monarchy. I am, dear Sir, your most humble ser- vant, Frirtto Lipareo. P. A. GRAMMATICAL DISQUISITIONS. Continued from p. 204. Of the derivatives from personal pronouns. THE above are all the variations, as far as I at pre ‘sent recollect that the personal pronouns themselves admit of. But there are’several words which have been usually admitted into the clafs of pronouns, some of which being plainly derived fron the perso- nal pronouns, and nearly connected with them, ‘Te- quire to be here particularly adverted to. The words here alluded to may be arranged into two clafses, as under : Clafs First; ~ My, Thy, Our, Your, Her, Their. Clafs Second, Mine, Thine, Ours, Yours, His, Hers. Its, Theirs. With regard to these words, we do not find that grammarians are agreed by what name to call them, or what rank they fhould hold; but almost all agree in clafsing them among the pronouns, from which they 1792. on personal pronouns. 24% ‘are obviously derived. Without spending time in examining their .several hypotheses, let us rather try if we can at once discover what are the real dis- _tinguifhing characteristics which fhould determine “their name and situation in grammar. It is, in the first place, very evident, that the word my, is equivalent, in power, to what has been usually called the genitive case of our Englifh noun, being in Signification very nearly equivalent to the phrase. of me. Thus, the phrase, ‘‘ this is my house,” has nearly the same meaning as if it were, ‘‘ this is the house of me.” By a similar mode of analysis, we fhall find that the words, tay, our, &e, of the first clafs, are precisely of the same import with my, having in all cases a meaning nearly the’ same with that of the pronouns from which they. are respectively derived, when the word of is prefixed to them. We observe also, in the second place, that the ‘word mine has a signification nearly allied to that of amy, though it obviously differs in certain particulars. ‘We can, for example, say with propriety, ‘ this is my house,” but not, “this is mine house.” And the same observation will apply to all the other words of this clafs. Again, we say, «© My house is better than thine; but thine is more elegant than. mine.” In this sentence it is evident that the word mine, is substituted for the phrase, ‘* my house,” i. e. ‘ the, house of me ;” and the word thine, for the phrase ‘* your house,” which is equivalent to ‘‘ the house ef thee or you.” Accordingly, we find that the sense would be the same were it written in either of these ways, as under, VOL, Xl. HE t ‘ Dar on personal pronouns. . Oct. 1%. My boiise is better than eine; =". but thine is finer than mine, or, My house is better than thy house; but thy house is finer than my bouse, ors My house is better than the house of thee; but thy bouse is finer than the house of me. ' The word thine, therefore, in this example, is nearly equivalent to ‘ thy house, or the honse of thee,” and mine, to ‘* my house, or the the house of me.” Again, fhould we attempt to banifh the words mine, thine, and the others ranged in the /as¢ clafs, and substitute those of the frst clafs in their stead, we fhould find a great want in language. Thus, continuing the same phrase, ¢ My house is better than thy; but thy is finer than my.” We immediately recognise, that, unleis the word honse be added to the words thy and my, the sense must be incomplete, which is not in the least necefsary when mine, thine, and others of the same clafs are employed. By this kind of analysis we are led to perceive, that the words belonging to the firs¢ of these clafses, my, thy, &c. cannot with propriety be called pro- nouns, seeing they do not come in the the place of any noun whatever. But that, instead of a noun, they only supply the place of a pronoun itself; and that the very pronoun, whose place this word occu- pies, is not itself the substitute of a noun on this oc- casion ; but merely the substitute of a definitive on- ly. To make all this plain, let us suppose in this case the speaker to be Yames, and the person‘addref- sed to be Fobn, then the phrase ‘* my house,” would be exactly the same with “' Fames’s house.” The word my is therefore an exact substitute for the word James's, which I had occasion to fhow on a former occasion, is not a zoum, but a definitive only. In £792. on personal pronouns 243 the same manner we might fhow that ‘' tay house,”’ was the substitute of Fobn’s house ; and so of all the others of this clafs, which on all occasions are the substitute of some definitive, and of nothing else. On the other hand, we are also led to perceive, that the words mine, thine, and others of the same clafs, become the substitutes, not of the definitive a~ lone, but of the whole noun with its definitive, “* Foba’s douse.” Thus the phrase, & My house is better than thine,” supposing the parties to Be Yames and Fobn, as above, is precisely equivalent to the phrase, ; “© Fames’s house, is better than ‘Fobn’s bouse.”” in which the word thine, plainly becomes the substi~ tute of the whole noun with its definitive, Fobn’s Bouse, though my is only the substitute of Fames’s. Hence we are farther led to observe, that the words of the first clafs, my, thy, &c. are nothing else than a certain clafs of definitives derived from pronouns, which may,.in a pronomial fafhion, become the sub- stitutes of a particular clafs of definitives. derived from nouns in a certain manner ; and therefore may - be called, for want of a better name, pronomial defi- nitives. The words mine, thine, and others of this elafs, however, do more, as they become the substi- tutes, alike, of the noun and its definitive ; and as it has been the custom on some occasions to call these words pronouns pofse/sive, I can see no harm that would result from allowing them still to retain the: same name. According to this distinction then, our personal pronouns, with these derivatives from them, might stand as under. A Table of the Englifh rrrsonat pronouns, with their perivarives, and the varrations these words / respectively admit of. } Pronoun of the Pronoun of the 2d Person, 1st Person. Singular, Plural. Singular. Plural. a j / Nominative, I We | Thou or you Ye or you Accusative, Me Us Thee or ye You ‘Definitive, | My |Our |} Thy Your Pronoun Mine Ours | Thine Your pofsefsive, a Pronoun of the 3d Person. | Nouns Singular. Plural. Masc. Fem. Neuter. Masc. Fem. Neuter. He’ She It They | John Ann Cyder Him Her ft Them ; John Ann Cyder | His Her lis Their | John’s Ann's Cyder’s His HersIts Theirs | John’s Ann’s Cyder’s N. B. Wherever a word is obliged to perform a double office, i it is printed in Roman characters, where it "stands in its proper place 3 and in ealics wilen placed where it ought not to be, . ~~ : ad 2792. on personal pronouns: 245 By glancing over this table, we are enabled to dis- cover some defects in our language, that otherwise are not very apparent, which have not, that I knows been hitherto remarked, Thus, in the pronoun of | the third person singular, we observe*that the words ‘bis and its, are each of them compelled to perforny alike the office of defimitives and pofiefsives. The word her, is, in like manner, forced to do the double office of accusative and definitive, while the word it, performs alike the office of nominative and accusative. These ate great defects which have escaped our no- tice, merely because custom has rendered this double use of them quite familiar tous. The following eX~ ample will illustrate this position. ; % His house is better than bers, vbut ders is finer than aaa” “€© My douse is better than yours, but yours is finer than MiNE.” In this example the word 4s performs, alike, the office of my and mine, yet the meaning appears com- ‘plete, though we have already seen that my, if sub- stituted for mine, could not be at all tolerated. ene in the phrase, _ < It struck na and cut n1s.eye brow,” «¢ Jt struck HER and cut HER eye brow,” We observe that the word der performs, dlike, the office of both the words Sim and bis, without appear- ing in any respect improper. How absurd would it seem if we were to say, ; <¢ Jt struck nim and, cut Him eye brow.’? ‘The same impropriety might be, in like manner, pointed ont with regard toithe double office perform- ed by the words zt and zs. But as this will be suf= dicicntly obvious, I do not dwell upon it. It must 246 on the personal pronauns. Oct. Pe be admitted, that we here meet with a very capital defect in a radical part of our language, which re- quires to be corrected. One observation here obtrudes itself upon us, and must not be omitted. Many Englifh grammarians have supposed, from the accidental circumstance of the word dis ending with the letter 5, and afsuming something like a genitive signification, that those words which have been called Englifh genitives have been formed by adding this letter to the noun, and ** Yames’s house” has beensupposedtomean ‘ Fames his house ;?? the word his, being softened by elisis into ’s- and some of our best writers have an occasional re- finement founded upon this principle. It has, howe ever,.been justly observed by others, that this could not be the case, seeing our feminine nouns admit of the same inflection, though the word er, and not bers,, is used in that sense, which has been called the genit tive case. Thus, we say equally ‘* Fames’s house,” or ‘* Ann’s house ;? though, were we to try to form the genitive on the same principle, we would be ob- liged to say, ‘* dan hers house,” and not ‘* dun her house. This idea therefore is sufficiently refuted from: this consideration alone. . From the view we have taken of this subject, we are enabled farther to observe, that in the whole list of pronomia! definitives, my, thy, &e. it happens in+- variably that this defimitive, or genitive, as it has been called, does not at all admit of the final S. unlefs it be in the two words dis and zts, already taken no- tice of, as being. obliged to perform, alike, the office _ef the definittve and the pofse/sive. Whereas the po/- 7 #02. on personal pronouns. 244 sefsive is as universally formed by adding the final S, the words mine and thine being only excepted *. Hence I would infer that the words 4zs, and its, be- long properly to the clafs of po/iefiiver, and have been compelled, for want of a proper word for the defini- tive, to do its office alsu. ' From this kind of analysis we are also farther led to observe, that all those words derived from En- glith nouns by the addition of an apostrophised ’S, which have been usually called genztives, are always employed to perform the double office of both defini- tive and pofse/sive, and are, in this respect, exactly in the same predicament with the words dis and its, a- bove taken notice of. To prove this, we fhall adopt the following illustration. In the sentence, ‘ my Jouve is better than yours, but yours is finer than. mine,’’? we find, as has been already remarked, that the word Jouse can only with propriety follow that clafs of words which we have called above, defini- sives 5 but it never can follow any of those belong~ ing to the clafs of pofie/izves. Hence it must be ad- ded'to the words my and your, before any meaning ¢an*be got ; but it cannot be joined with the word yours, nor mine; we may therefore render that sens tence thus, My bouse is betcer than yours, but yours is finer than mine, or My bouse is beter than your house but your bouse is finer than iny bouse. * By the bye, in the provincia! language of Edinburgh, these words are formed according to thestrictest analogy, and are not pronounced mine and thine, but mines and things; of the last however I am somewhat uncertain, 4 ~. 248 on personal pronouns. Oct. 17. We have already seen, however, that the word Zi; is obliged to perform the double office of defini< tive and pofsefsive, thus, / ‘* His Bouse is betver than bers, but hers is finer than Ais,” In which example, the first bis, stands as a defini~ tive, and as such requires to be joined with the noun it defines ; and the last 4s, stands as a pofsefsive, and Fequires not the noun to be added. In like manner, fhould we attempt to exprefs the meaning of this sentence, by repeating the names of the persons, without using any pronomial word what~ ever, we fhall find that these genitives, as they have. been called, may be in all cases applied equally in place-of the definitives, my, thy, &c. and the pofsef= sives, mine thine, &c. like the word bis, without re «change. Thus, the sentence, *¢ Fames’s bouseis better than ‘Fobn’s, but Fobn’s is finer than JameEs’s.” v as equivalent to «¢ My house's better than bis, but his js finer than MINE or MY HOUSE,” Here the word ‘Yames’s performs alike the part of my, and of mine. For, similar to mine, we say as a~ bove, Fames’s, or similar to my house, we might equally say, ‘‘ finer than Fames’s house.” In like, manner we may either say, as above, “‘ better than Fobn’s,” or at pleasure, ‘+ better than fohn’s house ;” the word ouse, or the noun explained by the defini- tive being in all cases of this sort, either added or. supprefsed at the pleasure of the composer, which cannot be done either with the words mune or hers. To render this still more plain, I fhali vary this sen- aence in many different ways, as in the table annexed. saarifosfod pure sarnmyfip 'e yo soxYo Oya dzTTe wrOJI0d a4 poBrGo ore ‘sana q2uaS poyjeo u33q Sakty 38ty SOATIIUYSP ssoy) [[e ‘1ouUBUT SUNS oY} UT “yeyI pue fIe[NSasraI sx ‘s7g prom ay} IVY? aAIsoIad OM snYyT sonisfosfod 10 aarziuyap re[N3eI B JO Taya jueM & ST V19y) ‘sp1oM s9q}0 ui— aarjoajap st aSenSuvy ayy *‘suwINTOO YI0q UT SIND90 PIOM SUES BY} 919y Ay *aSIOADT ay} JO ‘avpnBar st aBenBury oy) a1aym ‘a0ue[3 suo 32 uses st ‘uI10330q 0) do} wiozz ‘sututifoo asay3 uo afa ayy Sujoue,s Ag -osye suwNyjoo y34NOF pue pry 942 JO asoy3 sie se { earsjaszod sunouoad ‘payjes savy aM YOIYM SpIOA Jo sfeIO 3eyI JO [Te dae ‘unos puooes ay} UT asoyy, “*seAtiuyop ore ‘07g ‘way ‘Aw ‘utuNfoo Ysay ay) UT sproM oy} [Je 214e9 STYa Ul “gy AT asnoy anoA so ‘sino x { asnoy Aw so ‘auim ing = ssnoy amu jou ‘asnoy Aw 40 Saurpy { asnoy uno 3sNoY Sino jou fasnoy 4no Jo ‘sino | asnoy IYI IO ‘ss19YI ING asnoy s1iay3 JOU ‘asnoy sray3 10 SIIAy TL, asnoy «7, asnoy s,Asepy 30 ‘s fae me dsnoy suUY JO suuY Ing asnoy S,uu'y 10 fs uuy me asnoy shay th : = asnoy s.uyof 30 ‘s.uyof t 5 gsnoy s,sauref 30 ‘sssawef yng asnoy s,sauef 10 ‘s soue[ t is asnoy s.ugo, cr a | : asnoy ssawef 10 ¢s,saurf eS 1 asnoy s,uyof so ‘s uyof yng aduey> yoy ‘osnoy S,uyof 10 ¢s,uyol is Qsnoy s.s7@u, » a) eee a = asnoy sty 30 ‘siz 3 dsnoy Joy 40 “S194 ing asnoy Sioy Jou ‘asnoy ase to ‘s1oFy 5 asnoy st Ssnoy siay jou ‘asnoy say Jo ‘s1azy . asnoy siy 10 ‘sry ing aZuvyo ynoyim Sasncy sty 40 *siEy s4aq 10U ‘asnoy 42Z esnoy Aw 30 ‘our 5 L asnoy anoX x0 ‘sanok yng = asnoy sunoX jou ‘asnoy anoX 4 fsuno x , amar jou “asnoy | “HLYNO FT ; ; “duly J, : "GNOOTG - “LSYIT re ie eee et SS oN 250 the effect of water on machinery. Oct. 17» From a consideration of this table, it clearly ap- ‘pears, that the supposed Englith genitives perform, in all cases, a double office, exactly analogous to that which is performed by the word zs ;. which, by not having been adverted to, has augmented the perplex- ity that these words have occasioned in our gramma~ tical arrangements. To be continued. ESSAY ON WATER. CONSIDERED AS A MOVING POWER ON MACHINERY. Continued from p. 210. Ira considerable weight is appended to one side of 2 wheel that rests upon a pivot in the center, and none atall uponthe other side of it, it will follow that the side with the weight appended to it will always de- scend, and the light side rise upwards, so as to com- municate a continued rotatory motion to the wheel. : It is im this way that water becomes a moving power, by its dead wetght ; for if buckets be so fixed upon the wheel as to have their mouths upwards, and open to receive a stream of water as they pafs under it, at, or near the top of the wheel on one side, so as te descend full, the mouth of these buckets must be turned downwards at the bottom of the wheel, if immoveably fixed upon it, so as to ascend empty. The inequality of weight between the two sides of the wheel must thus continue as long as the water flows into the buckets, and of course the rotatory mo- tion of the wheel must continue also. . myQ2- the effect of water on machinery. 2gt yy But many particulars must be adverted to, before "We. can ascertain whether that water can be so ap-» plied, as to produce the greatest effect pofsible. _ We fhall, for the present, lose sight of the water entirely, and, for the sake of illustration, we hall sup- pose that a number of equal weights could, by some magical powers, be hooked upon the wheel at a cer- tain place as it turns round, and taken off again in the same way below. © On this supposition we fhall easily perceive, that the same weight will produce a much more power- ful effect upon one part of the wheel, than upon ano- ther part of it. Let A, B,C, D. fig. x. represent ‘a wheel moveable upon its pivot P; and let the se- veral dots upon one side of it, represent a number of equal weights, affixed in the manner above mention- ‘ed to one side of the wheel. I would observe: In the first place, that the weights at A, and C, can have no tendency whatever to produce any mo- tion in the wheel; because the one being perpen- dicularly above. the pivot, and the other acting per- pendicularly below it, they can have no tendency to mere it to either side. \ Each of the weights a, and 4, however, will have a tendency to move the wheel in a certain degree ; because they are placed a little towards one side of the center; but their moving power will still be small, because they act enly upon a radius of small length when compared with that at B. Mathema- ticians have long ago ascertained, that the power of any given weight, acting ona lever, is always in pro- portion to the length of that lever ; so that, suppo- VOL. XI. Ir 2 + 252 the effect of water on machinery. Oct. 172. sing the length of the lever P B to be four, and the distance P p one, the power of one pound weight, ap- pended at B, will be as four, while that at a or 5 will be only as one; so that one pound at Bhas an equal force as four at a or 6 By a similar mode of in- vestigation, we fhould find that the weights went on in the same rate, from nothing at A or G, to six- teen at B; or, in other words, the aggregate po- wer ofthe whole weights, if thus ay pended, would be only one fourth part nearly, of what that whole ag- gregate weight would be, if it could all be applied at the point B only, and to no other part of the wheel. By this mode of reasoning we are led to perceive, that if, instead of making the water fall down an inclined plain, E B, as it is usual to make it act by its impetus, we fhould lead it forward in the direction E A, till it came to a, where it was emptied into a bucket, in or- der to make the water act only by its dead weight, we fhould still lose, in this way, a considerable part of the pofsible power of the water, even if the buckets fhould be so contrivedas to lose none of it in the course of its descent ; a cireumstance that can never be obviated where fixed buckets, of any construction, are employ- ed upon a wheel of large diameter. This is so obvi- ous as to require no illustration. Therefore, where buckets are fixed upon the wheel, the difference of power between buckets appended jat equal distances | from each other on the wheel, or ‘of one bucket con- stantly acting at C, equal in weight to the whole, be- comes much greater than the proportion here afsign- ed. ied 2792. — the effect of water on machinery. , If, with a view to obviate this inconvenience, we fhould think of encreasing the diameter of the great wheel, soes to make the top of it rise higher than the level of the water course, as represented by the dotted lines, the evil would be remedied, in as far as res- pects the upper part of the wheel; but still it ope- rates with the same force in as far as respects the Tower part of the wheel. Where this augmentation of the diameter of the wheelis even practicable therefore, by reason of the moderate height of the fall, there still must be a very great waste of water when thus applied but where the height of the fall is very great, as from fifty feet and upward, as no wheel could be made of a diameter nearly equal to this, the lofs of power that is thus incurred can scarcely ad- mit of a calculation. From these few obvious considerations it is evi- dent, that if we ever hope to derive the full power of a small stream of water,. falling from a very grea- height, we must abandon the idea of making that water act directly on a wheel itself, and make that power be applied to the wheel, by the intervention of some other contrivance better adapted to the purpose than a single wheel in any situation ever can be. One would suppose, that, when an apparatus of that sort had been discovered, which was equally simple in its construction as economical in its appli- cation, it would have been at once universally adopt- ed. But our reasoning is here fallacious ; and expe- rience proves, that though man is eager to seize ad- vantageous improvements when they are pointed out to him, his mind is exceedingly slow at applying the 254 the effect of water on'machinerg, Oct. xe powers that are familiar to him to other purposes than those to which he has seen them applied. In proof of this, I have only to observe, that the follows ing contrivance for raising a great weight, by means of a very small current of water, has been known to every student of physics for more. than a century: past, and has never, that I have heard of, been once employed for the purpose of turning. machinery, or mill work of any kind; though it is perfectly well calculated to obviate all the difficulties above stated, and to give to water, falling from a great height, all the effect of which it is susceptible as a moving power. Let asmall wheel A, fig. 2. be fixed so as to turnups on a pivot at the height of the fall of water D, C; and another wheel, exactly similar to it B, atthe level of the bottom, from whence the water has a free exit ; _and let an endlefs chain be pafsed over these two wheels, to which is fixed a number of buckets in the position indicated in the figure. In this way no limits - can be set to the length of the chain. Let the fall be fifty feet or a hundred, or five hundred feet if you will, ‘there is nothing impofsible in thus connecting the whole, and of thus deriving the full benefit of the entire weight of the whole water, without any diminution: for not one drop of water can be spilled in descending from the highest to the lowest part of the apparatus. Let us, for the sake of illustration, suppose, tlrat a stream of water could be commanded, so small as - that it ran only a pound weight in a second of time, having a fall of fifty feet, and that the whole of this ‘water was received into the bucket at the top, so as, by its gravity, to produce a rotatory motion of such 792. > the effect of water on machinery. 155 welocity as that the chain made one revolution in five minutes. On these data, let me afk what would be its force as a moving power? : Say, the half of five minutes, is two minutes and a half. In two minutes and a half there are 150 ses. conds ; and consequently the full buckets, on one side, would, at all times, exceed the empty ones on the op= posite side by 150 pounds ; of course, even this small stream would act with a power equal to 150 pounds upon any machinery to which it was applied. But an ordinary mill stream, instead of ene pound in a second, discharges nearly a hundred pounds weight of water in the same time. With such a stream, the power of a'machine on this construction would be equal to 15,000 pounds,—a power that no strength of machi- nery could withstand. Where such a stream there- fore could be commanded, with such a fall, it might be subdivided into a great many smaller. ones, each of which would haye power sufficient to turn a mill. If the height were a hundred feet, the power of the same stream would be doubled; and so on for any greater height. Nothing can be more simple than the spelying this power, so obtained,.to the moving of machinery. It is only to place a vertical wheel, corresponding to the water wheel of an ordinary mill, at one side of this moveable chain, having upon it, instead of flat float boards, firm pins, or teeth, fixed in it at regular distances, to be laid hold of by others corresponding to them, made by the pins that connect the links of the chain ; so that, i in BPR as the chain moves, the - 256 = the effect of water on machinery. “Oct. 17" wheel must be turned round with the same velocity *. In this case none of the power would be lost, because its whole force is perpetually applied at the very point of the lever (4. fig. 2d.) where it must produce its greatest effect. The apparatus is so simple, and the conclusions so indubitable, that mere inspection of the figure is sufficient to convince every person of the most moderate understanding, so that farther illustrations are perfectly needlefs. I thall only just make one remark here, which is indeed sufficiently obvious, that, were a moving power of this sort adopted, it would be as easy to apply it to a wheel placed in the top, as in the bottom of a building, or to one in every stage of it, if necefsary. In this way may be obtained the full benefit of the greatest height of any fall of water, without losing the smallest portion of its weight as a moving power ; a thing that is altogether impracticable by amy other means that has ever yet been adopted. Even with regard to falls of moderate height, where a wheel could be made of such a size as to receive the water . into buckets, at its full height, much power would be gained by hanging the buckets to achain in this man- ner, and making the water, by this means, act always by its whole weight nearly, upon the horizontal or ‘longest lever of the. wheel, as at / fig. 2. and no where else. It was from a contemplation of the in- finite force that might thus be obtained in the High — lands of Scotland, for turning machinery, that I have * E, represents that wheel, with the pins h. Fig. 3d, fhows:a front view of the chain, with the catch pins, b, by and ‘a section of theedge ef the wheel at A, with its forked pins to catch the pins of the chain as it moves. 1792. detached remark. 257 80 often taken notice of the amazing advantages. which that country enjoys above all others for manu- factures, by machinery; nor is this the only: advan- tage it pofsefses in this respect, as I fhall have occa- Sion to fhow at some other time. While I contem- plated these things, which seem never to have fallen under the observation of any other person, it will not be deemed wonderful, if I have exprefsed myself rather more forcibly on that subject than first they could see reason for,—many things «ppear paradoxi- cal, when simply announced, which, when explain- ed, are simple and obvious truths. The above’may serve for giving a general notion of the mode of applying water with advantage, for the purpose of moving machinery, where the fall ts great. In another paper IJ fhall endeavour to give - some general notions respecting the application of water, as a moving power, in every country, where no kind of cascade can be commanded. DETACHED REMARK. TAKE care never to provoke enemies by severities of censure; yet suffer not yourself, in defence of a good cause or sentiment, to be overawed or depref. sed by the presence, frowns, or insolence, of powerful men; but persist on ail occasions in the right, with 2 resolution always present and calm. Be modest, yet not timorous ; and be firm without rudenefs, VOL. Xi. KK + POETRY, ———— eee ODE OF HAFEZ. - [TRANSLATED FROM THE PERSIAN BY SIR WILLIAM JONEs.] Hirn ER, boy, agoblet bring, Be it of wine’s ruby spring; - Bring me one, and bring me twa, Nought but purest wine will do! Tt is wine, boy, that can save E’en dying lovers from the grave; Old and young alike will say, Tis the balm that makes us gay. Wine’s the sun.—The maon, sweet soul, We will call the evening bowl: Bring the sun, and bring him soon, To the bosom of the moos! Dafh us with this liquid fire, It will thoughts divine inspire, 3 4 And, by nature taught te glows Let it like the waters ftow ! { If the rose fhould fade, do you Bid it chearfully adieu: Like rose water to each guest, Bring thy wine and make us blest. If the nightingale’s rich throat, Cease the music of its note; > It is fit, boy, thon fhouldst bring Cups that will with music ring. Be not sad, whatever change O’er the busy world may range ; Harp and lute together bring, Sweetly mingling string with string ! My bright maid, unlefs it be In some dream, I cannot see; Bring the draught that will disclose Whence it was sleep first arose! Should it chance t’e’erpow’r my mind, a Where’s the remedy I find? ' Tis in wine.-Then, boy, supply Wine, till all my senses die! fr pecir ye. 265 Unto Hafez, boy, do you Instant bring a cup or two: Bring them: for the wine thall flow, Whether it be law or no! THE LAPLANDER. A SONNET BY MRS CHARLOTTE SMITH.e Tue fhiv’ring native, who, by Tenglio’s side, Beholds, with fond. regret, the parting light Sink far away, beneath the dark’ning tide, And leave him to long months of dreary night ; Yet knows, that, springing from the eastern wave, The sun’s glad beams fhall re-illume his way, And, from the snows secur'd, within his cave, He waits in patient hope returning day. Not so the suff’rer feels who, o’er the waste Of joylefs lite, is destin’d to deplore Fouad love forgotten, tender friendship past, Which, once extinguith’d, cam revive no more : Over the blank void he looks with hopelefs pain 5 ~ For him those beams of heaven fhall never fhine again. SONG, For the Bee. Fy no more, cruel fair, but be kind and relenting, Enough has been ihewn of contempt and disdain; Taste at length the superior delight of consenting, For "tis much nobler joy to give pleasure than pain. Would you charm men of sense, and engage their addrefses, My Chloe of pride, as of painting beware ; For beauty consists more in minds, than in faces, And the maid’s almost ugly, that only is fair. eee --__ Fh FT ™—-- _—Vvkkea=>=>es0®o53o$o$=n =o ‘ EPIGRAM, For the Bee, Six Jimcrack round his halt, hangs all things odd, An embalm’d pismire, and a straw stuff’d ced ; Alike to things antique his taste inclines, ©ld Roman shields, maim’d heads, and rusty coiny; But if the oldest, oddest thing in life To these you'd hang, Sir Jimcrack,—hang your wife. 268 a new kind of fence, oll. \ A NEW KIND OF FENCE DESCRIBED. (fascia about land are a very exiescive and trouble- | some article to the farmer; whatever, therefore, tends to diminifh this expence, and to render the fences more complete than those now in use, will be accounted a valu- able improvement. There are two principal descriptions of fences ; 3 walls: and hedges. Walls have the advantage over hedges, in being an immediate fence, as soon as they are made; but they are expensive, and unlefs made of the best stone and lime, perifhable. Hedges, on the other hand, cost lefs money at first, and when they are once completed, they are very durable ; but they require to be long nursed, and carefully tended when young, so that it is many years before the person who makes them.can derive any material benefit from them. It thus happens that they ere too often neglected when young ; and if this be the case, it is scarcely pofsible to make them ever afterward a complete fence at all. I am now to describe a kind of hedge which can be reared at a small expence—is a fence as scon as made, —will continue perfect and firm fora great length of time, without needing any repairs ;—and, without rambling too much to damage the crops around it, will afford a greater quantity of bruth for fuel, or other purposes, than any other kind of hedge now in use. To effect all these purposes, it will be necefsary to prepare, near the spot where the fence is wanted, a piece of rich'clean ground, for a nursery, some years before the hedge is intended to be planted; procure, in the month of October or November, a sufficient quantity of cuttings of the Lalsam poplar ;—wood of the second year’s growth is 1392. a new kina of fence. 266 Dest : after digging the ground properly, let these be | planted i in a nursury in rows, one foot distant from each ‘other, and the plants six inches apart in the rows. Hoe ‘them, and keep them clean, till the plants have’ attained ‘a proper size, which may be in three orfour years. If ‘the soil has been good, the plants in that time will be eight or ten feet high, and the thicknefs of a man’s ‘thumb, at the height of of four feet, which I fhould re- -ckon a proper size for the purpose intended. _ When you have, by this means, or otherwise, obtained a proper supply of plants, lay out your fields as you in- tead them, the winter before you mean to ‘plant; and if ‘it be a plain field, plough up a narrow ridge where you jntend to plant your hedge, or dig it, with the spade, where the plough cannot go; give it a winter and spring ‘fallow, to clean it from weeds, and loosen the soil. Dung ‘this small ridge very thoroughly; and as the ridge needs not exceed six or ¢ight feet in breadth, a very little dung will go a great way ; and sow it with turnips. Hoe. them properly, and keep the ground clean. When they are taken off in November, the ground will be in excel- ‘lent order for planting. When the ground is ready, take up your poplar plants ; prune off the tops, at the height of six feet from the “ground, and, having trimmed the roots, plant a row of them, by line, near the middle of the prepared ridge, at the distance of not more than one foot from ‘each other, or lefs, if the roots will permit. Let these all slope in one direction, as in the plate fig. 4. parallelto each other, in ‘the direction of the hedge, as at A B fig. 4. The ground “plan is represented in fig. 5. where the same plants: are represented ;—those sloping to the right hand from A to B. When this row is completed thus, stretch the line parallel to the former, at the distance of filteenor sixteen 264 ‘a@ new kind of fence. . Oct: 1, inches from it, as in the dotred line, D E fig. §. and plant © in that line another row, sloping the reverse way, as from DtoE. fig. 4. When these two lines are completed, tlie fence, when viewed sideways, will have the appearance re- presented atC CD Bfig. 4. This kind of rail, however, is not interlaced, as in a bafket; but the two rows are Kept quite distinct ; as must appear evident by inspection .of the ground plan fig. 5. A B represents the ground plan of those that slope from left to right; and D E the plan of those that slope the reverse way, the tops of i eae meet at_ CC fig. 4. These two rows, ho wever, though distant from each o- ther at the bottom, are made to incline inward, so as to approach each other at the top, as in fig. 6. which repre- sents an end view of the fence’ when completed. To complete the whole, let a thin slit of deal, like a tile lath, be stretched along the top, as from C€ toC fig, 4. so as that the stoops on each side of it, come close to it as in fig, 4. the whole being bound by means of a straw rope twisted round this lath and the top of the stoops; and the ikeleton of your fenee is completed. In this state it afsumes the appearance, and is an equally good fence as a rail would be. To render it complete, however, you must take care, after one side of the fence is finifhed, to lay the earth that is to be in the interval between the two rows perfectly’ smooth, and to plant, with a dibble, a row of sweet briar plants, as from a to 4 fig. 5. These plants fhould not be more than two years of age ; and their tops, at the time of planting, fhould be cut over quite clofe by the ground. This will make them pufh out with great vigour, so as quickly to fill up the whole interval between the plants, and to make a hedge as clofe as could be wifh- ed. Ifthe ground be good, and the operations properly 1 2492. a new kind of fence. 268. conducted, some of these sweet briars will make fhoots of four feet in length the first year. It will be necefsary to be at some pains to pullout by hand, the first year, any weeds that may spring up be- tween the rows; and to hoe down those that may spring up on either side. The poplars will make fhoots equally vigorous as the sweet briar; so that the first year some of the young fhoots will be from two to three feet in height. Any fhoots that spring out from the stem will rise up perpendicularly, so as to form a-secondary kind of ribs. These, if laid in by the hand once a-year, so as to bring them on the in- side of the original stems, will in time acquire strength, as the original ribs do, so as to resist any force. The sweet briar, which, of itself, would fall dangling to one side, is thus. kept firm and upright in the center ; the fhoots which puth through between the ribs, ought to be cut off with a hedge fheers once a-year. The hedge being thus’ wider at the bottom than the top, will always continue green and vigorous. The poplars will gradually afsume the size and strength of trees, so as to be utterly impene- trable by any force. At top they willsend out a vast proe fusion of vigorous fhoots, not lefs than three or four teet high, and of proportional thicknefs, each year; so that if these tops be lopped off every second year, they will af- ford an immense profusion of brufh wood, which may be employed as fuel, or for any other purpose wanted. After the first year, the crols rail at the top will be no Jonger wanted. Indeed, where cattle are not to be put into the field the first year, itis not necefsary at all, Noe is it advisable to put cattle into the field the first year ; for although it may be a fence, yet as the fhoots of the pop- lar are smooth, and the leaf liked by cattle, they will brouse upon it, and render the fence lefs sightly than it otherwise would be. 264. to correspondents. Oct, UL After the second year, however, the sweet briar. “will cover the whole so effectually, as to render this perfectly safe from all attacks. *.* I am convinced, that, were. truncheons of poplar, of a he size, cut over and planted without roots, they would succeed perfectly well; and the fence could ‘thus be made at aemuch smaller expence, than by rooted plants,; but never having experienced this myself, I only offer it as matter of opinion. Any kind of straight J {hooting wil- low could be employed for the same ‘purpose in a rich soil. Fig. 6. represents an end view of the hedge, in which A is the hedge new planted, before it has set out any fhoots. B, the same hedge after it has been planted a year or two, and has fhot out some strong fhoots. C, the same hedge when farther grown, the top fhoots cut off, and the sides properly trimmed. TO CORRESPONDENTS. ‘Tue hints by Curiosus ffall e take» toto consideration. The fa: our by an Old Correspondent is revised, and fhall have a place with (he first convenience. The communication by Mischrontes wil] appear in next number if pof- sible; and here this altercation ends. The Editor, though g ateful for the good intentions of Yom Idle, re- grets that he fhould have takenthe tro.ble of transeribing such a long story which cannvt suit the Bee; as it has been related in almost every periodical publication in Bricain. Republications are only here admitted when their merit is conspictious, or where they are but little known. Mr Wright's acceptable communication is thankfully received, and thal he attended to in due time; somé of the cocoons thall be forwarded the first Opportunity. The Editor returns thanks for the anonymous account of the interment of Charlesz. It would have been more satisfactory if some notice had been given where'the MSS. from whence it has been extracted, has been presei ved The anecdote of Bathylius, though pretty generally known among claf- sical scholars, fhall have a p!ace wheh room can be spared for it. Many acknasuledgements are omitted for want of room. she i a a ‘93. «* THE BEE, _ EITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, FoR WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 24. 1792. THE OUISTITI, WESTITI, OR CAGVI. Tuts is one of the smallest of the monkey tribe, its head and body not exceeding seven inches in length: its tail is long and bufhy, and marked with alter- nate rings of black and afh colour: its face is naked, of a swarthy flefh colour: ears large, and so dispo- sed, as to bear a near resemblance to that fathion of female drefs called queen Mary’s ruff: its body is beautifully marked with dufky, ath coloured, and xeddith bars: its nails are ‘fharp, and its fingers like those of a squirrel. VOL, xi. LL + ‘ 266 on personal pronouns. Oct. 24. It is a native of Brazil ; feeds on fruits, vegetables, insects, and snails ; and is fond of fith. : The ouistiti is one of the few clafses of the mon-_ key kind which have been known ever to breed in Europe. Mr Edwards says, that it produced young ~ ones in Portugal, which were at first extremely ug- ly, having hardly any hair upon their bodies. They adhered closely to the teats of their mother ; and when grown alittle larger, fixed themselves upon her back, from which fhe could not easily disengage them without rubbing them off against a wall. Upon these occasions, the male, who discovers a great fondnefs for them, either compels the female to take them up again, or allows them to mount upon his own back to relieve her. As this is one of the smallest and. most beautiful of the monkey. tribe, it is frequently kept in Portu- gal as a pet in families ; but. it is even there tender, and iripatient of cold. GRAMMATICAL DISQU ISITIONS. Continued Srom p+ 259+ OTHER and OTHERS. Bijauste grammarians have likewise been at a lofs_ what to make of the words other and others. Dr Johnson, with other grammarians, has clafsed them among pronouns, and calls others, the plural of other, for no better reason, seemingly, than that the word others has an s final, which is the usual plural termi- nation of our nouns, though this rule be not observed in our pronouns. By the same mode of arguing, 290%. on personal pronouns. 264 “pers thould be the plutal of ber, yours the plural of ‘your, and ours of our. A very little attention, how ever, would have been sufficient to convince Dr Johnson, that the word other, has, in general, a plu- ral meaning, as well as others. For we may say, ** other men went,” or ‘other houses were sold,” €%c, In all which, and similar cases, the word other ‘thas an evident relation to plurality. The truth, how- ever, seems to be, that the word other, is not 2 pro= noun, bat merely a definitive ; which, like other de- finitives, must always be accompanied by the noun which it serves, to define ; and it is one of those de- finitives that relate to plurality, like many others. If, therefore, we must have a singular to this word, that singular can doubtlefs be nothing else than az other ; for we say ‘* another man came,” or ‘‘ other men came,” exactly denoting the same idea, the one singular, and the other plural. These are, therefore, alike definitives of the same kind. Others, is simi- lar in power to those words we have above called pronouns pofsefsive ; see table p. 244. SELF and SELVES. Grammarians have been still more at a lofs with regard to the word se/f, with its plural selves ; because ef some anomalies that have arisen in the Englith language, from a deficiency in the inflection of some of our pronouns, that now require to be explained. ~ The word se/f, denotes an object considered in its totality, without discrimination of parts. It has been universally accounted a pronoun; though J think there is great reason to:doubt if it strictly belongs to this clafs of words. We fhall try to ascertain its rank in grammar by the following analysis. 268 on personal pronouns. Oot. 24. When we say, “I cut my band, we denote the - particular part of the body that was cut. But, if we wifhed to exprefs the circumstance GENERALLY, we would say, ‘I cut my se/f;” Here it is plain the word hand, ina grammatical sense, is precisely of the same nature with the word se/f;—the first only denoting a particular member, and the last deno+ ting the object in general, without: specification of parts. But it never yet has been thought that band could be reckoned a pronoun ; it has been universally called a moun. Why then fhould se/f .be wavenas in. another clafs ? I can see no other reason for this pt vee uns lefs it be, that, as se/f seldom appears in language without being conjoined with a definitive pronoun, it has been thought to be itself.a pronoun also. We fhall find, however, that the word hand is,.on many occasions, as necefsarily accompanied with the defini. tive as the other. In the example above given, the definitive my, equally accompanies both ; and where ever a particular member is represented as. acting, or being acted upon, the name of that member must be as necefsarily accompanied with its definitive, to re- fer it to the whole of which it isa part, as if that whole were tepsesented, without specification of parts; by the word self. It is indeed tr ue, that when we. exprefs a part, we, can more easily adopt the zomuza/ definitive, and avoid that of the proxoun, than when we mean to denote, the whole ; because we have more frequently occasion: to identify the — hole to which the part belougs,.- by; repeating its name, than when we exprefs the whole.) t 2792. . on personal pronouns. 26g For example, we mote readily say, James’s hand» than Fames’s self, for a very obvious reason, wz. be- cause the phrase Fames’s hand, is, when taken alto- gether, only one noun ; the definitive Fames’s, being only necefsary to identify the word hand, But the whole individual is clearly exprefsed by the single word Fames alone ; and therefore the word. se/f is here unnecefsary, unlefs where some particular con- trast is implied, or a particular emphasis. be given to the phrase. _ These considerations, with others that, are me eiently obvious in pursuing this mode of reasoning, satisfy me, that the word se/f is a noun, in the stric- test sense of the word, and fhould be ranked in the same clafs with the word hand ; but. that, as it ex- _ ptefses the object generally, the defining noun alone, ean, on many. occasions, denote the idea, without obliging us to repeat this particular word ; but that this definitive must always be accompanied by the particular object it serves to identify, when a part:~ cular part or member only is exprefsed. Where »we with to exprefs that general idea, without appro- ptiating it to particulars, wé can equally make use of either of these words as 2 nominative to.a.verb, without being accompanied by any sort of definitive » , ae ; ‘ ‘* A hand is the most useful member of the human body ;”’ or, ‘* Se/f, is ever interesting, to man.” We have seen above the treason why those nouns that serve to denote particular parts or members of bodies, are usually defined by the nomial definitive ; as also why the general word.se//, so often afsumes the pronomial definitive in language. It now only 296 on personal pronouris. Oct, 24. ‘remains, that we fhould point out the cause of some anomalies that are observable in the Englifh langu- ‘age, with regard to the composition of that word self ‘with its definitive. We find, that in the pronouns of the first and se- cond persons, the word se/f, with its plural se/ves, re- gularly afsumes the proper definitive pronoun in com- position. Thus we say my-self, rejecting, alike, the accusative me and the pofsefsive mine ; for we can nei- ther say me-self, nor muine-self*. In like manner we take, in the plural, the proper definitive our, and say our-selves; and not ws-selves, or ours-selves. The same rule is observed in regard to the pronoun of the second person; for we say, thy-self, using the proper definitive, and not thee-self, or thine-self ; and your-selves, and not you-self, or yours-selves. In all these cases, our pronoun admits of a distinct word for the definitive, different from either the accusative or the po/sefsive, and therefore no difficulty occurs. But when we come to the pronoun of the third per- son, we are at a stand ; for, with regard to that pro- noun, we find, that, in the masculine gender, there is no ‘particular word appropriated as a definitive +, the word dis being obviously the pofse/sive only, andnot the definitive. In this embarrafsment, what fhall be done» _ No alternative seems to remain, but either to employ m this case the accusative HIM, by way of a definitive, or the po/se/stve u1s, Custom has establifhed the first, and we say him-self, and not hrs-self. Some critics, however, observing that the word 2s, has been for-: # See table, p. 2446 | Ibid. £792. 5 om personal pronouns. 29k eed on other occasions, to perform the office of a de- finitive, have contended that it fhould do so here al- so; and insist that we fhould write Ais-self, and not. him-self. This, however, is only adopting one im-, perfection in place of another. Had they determined to make any change, it would have been better to have at once devised a new word for the definitive pronoun of this gender, which would have removed, the difficulty complained of, and several others they have not taken notice of. ; ; In the feminine gender, we also find that the accz- sative and definitive are exprefsed by the same word . ber. And here, according to the general analogy, it would seem that the word ber fhould be reckoned, in strict propriety, the definitive, rather than the ac- cusative ; yet as this word is employed in both ways, we are at liberty to view the word ser as either ; and it is here employed properly as the definitive, But as there is no proper definitive for the neuter gender, the word its being properly the pofsefizve, we have, as in the masculine gender, adopted the accu- sative in its stead, and say zt-self. Thus it has hap- pened, that in two of the three genders of the singu- lar number of this pronoun, we have adopted the accusative instead of the defigitive, in composition with the word se/f. And probably with a view to correspond with these, rather tham from any other cause, we have adopted THEM, the accusative plural, instead of the proper definitive THEIR, and say them- selves, instead of thetr-selves, which is, without a doubt, the regular word, according to strict analo- sy: ey i i on personal pronouns. Oct: 24% aanee 2" 9 , Own, ‘Own, as well as seJf, has been usually clafiédn among pronouns ; 3 and though we cannot admit it into this clafs, and though it be also very often.connected with’ se/f, itis yet, in its gramma’ ical characteristics, a good deal different from it. Se/f, we have seen, is to be considered, in strict propriety, asa oun ; own, on the contrary, is merely a definitive ; and, as such, it’ must in all eases be connected with some noun which it serves to define. - ~We have seen above, that all those nouns which are names of the parts only of any object, stand in need of particular definitives to limit their general meaning, and muke that meaning particular. A- mong these definitives, own comes in as an auxiliary to give them greater force and energy. Thus, in the phrase, ‘I cut my hand,” the definitive my fixes the meaning of the word hand. But it acquires yet more force and energy, by adding the auxiliary defi- nitive, own, “I cut my own hand”. ‘This is the “precise idea denoted by the word own, onalloccasions. Tuts, THat, THESE, THOSE. ae: ~These four words have also, by many, been clafsed. among pronouns, though they more properly belong to the elafs of definitives. Dr Johnson, who seems to have considered grammar, especially Englifh gram- mar, as below his notice, though he was under the nécefsity of writing upon that subject, has been plea. sed to adopt the idea of their being pronouns, with- olit reserve; ‘and, in comformity with this idea, has called these the plural of trs, and those the re of that, 3792. on personal pronouns. 27 It is indeed true that this and that, never can be: employed as definitives along with nouns denoting: plurality, and that there and those always do denote: plurality. But that there is no greater similarity between the idea conveyed by the word ¢his, and that of the word these, thanthere is between the word this and those ; and likewise that there is no greater. afhnity between that and those, than between that and: these, is so obvious, as to require little illustration. This, denotes a single object, either at hand, or that has: been just mentioned ; and that a single object at some gteater distance, as opposed to it; these and those both denote plurality at a distance, the one more, the other: lefs remote, as contrasted with each other. It is indeed true, that from a defect in the Englifh dialect of our language, thoughnot inthe Scottz/h dia- lect, the word ‘these is obliged to perform a double office, by denoting a plurality at band, as well as at a distance, and therefore it becomes equivalent a- like to this and that. But inthe Scottith dialect _ that ambiguity is avoided. For, Yhis denotes a single object, and Thir a plurality of objects That a single object, and at adist These pronounced thaea plurality of objects, id aH Those, in both cases, denoting another clafs of dis- tant objects as contrasted with ¢hese, as in the follow- ing example. ‘* This stone is heavy, (weighing or touching the Stone,) but that stone, pointing to one at a distance, is more valuable. Thir apples (pointing to, or touch- ing a quantity at hand) are sweet; but these are VOL. xi. MM t at hand, or very near. uh letter from Isabella to Albert. Oct. 2h. more beautiful (pointing to another quantity at a dis- tance,) though ¢hose are more numerous, pointing to another quantity ata greater distance.’ ’ Observe, that these words, like all the defini- tives derived immediately from nouns, are obliged to - perform the double office of definitives, and what we have called pofsefsives. Thus we say, “ this house is finer than that, or that hogse,” either adding the noun defined, or supprefsing it, as suits our fancy, preg in the same way as we would say, Fames’s house is finer than Fobn’s, or Fobn’s house. From the foregoing observations, we perceive, that the personal pronouns, in all European languages, both ancient and modern, are in many respects defec- tive ; and that many words have been called pro- nouns,'which are not, in strict propriety, entitled to that name; and many otters are forced to perform various offices, so nearly allied to each other.in some cases, that they have not been distingnifhed, which has produced much confusion in our grammatical ar- rangements. We are enabled farther to perceive, that, In a language like the Englifh, where every thing relating to the gender of nouns is denoted by the pronouns only, a few additions to this important clafs of words, would be productive of great energy, elegance, and perspicuity in that language. ~ | LETTERS FROM ISABELLA TO ALBERT. ' LETTER SECOND. : A rHovsanD, thousand thanks, my dear Albert, for your kind letter! O! if I could but hope that my 4992, letter from Isabella to Albert. 275 letters could afford you the hundredth part of the pleasure yours give to me, I fhould write to you every day, and every hour that I could command, But what have I to communicate, save the childifh prattle of one who knows nothing? You are good, very good, to be pleased with them. How flattering is it to me to be thus afsured that I hold so near a place in your affections ! for well I know: it,is that partiality alone which pleases. . You afk how I spend my time here. I conform exactly to the rules of the family in every respect. Our chief businefs is work; but we read a little, and play a little, and converse a great deal on what’ we have read. One of us, for I already reckon my- self one of the family, acts the housewife week about. My turn, for the first time, is to be next week; and I promise myself much pleasure in the taik j;—for, though I am a novice, yet the servants here are all so obliging; and Mrs Drury, and my young companions are so cordially desirous of plea- sing me, that I fhall readily find advice whenever I - am atalofs; and the hope of rendering myself of some importance will animate me. I jhall be anxi- ous to do better than they expect, withont fear of being chid if I fhould be a little wrong ; and I have often experienced that that kind of anxiety where ‘hope predominates, is the most pleasing of all sensa- tions. Our parlour, through the whole day, looks very like a school room; Mrs D. is usually with us; and we are all as busy as can be, about one kind of work or other. No tafk is afsigned to us; but, in 246 letter from Isabella to Albert.’ Oct. 24 general, we stint ourselves to have such a thing fi- nifhed by a certain time ; and we are as eager to ac» complifh that as pofsible. Mrs D. enters into con- versation with us on every subject, and listens to our remarks on any book we are reading, or the incidents that occur, directing our judgement rather by mild hints than formal advices, wherever the sees us wrong. By this means her daughters have ac-~ quired a habit of thinking justly on most subjects, that others of their age seldom pofsefs. I feel this ; I feel my own wants when compared with them ; but by attention to what falls from either her or them, T hope, in my turn, to become wise enough to be able to make you be pleased with something else than the mere innocence of my prattle: That you may have some idea of the nature of this small female cotterze, (you know I learnt this word from yourself, ) I thall endeavour to recollect some of our yesterday’s. conversation. «< My dear,” said Mrs D. to me, with her u- sual gentlenefs and imprefsive manner, ‘ this house you will find is a very unfathionable place. Instead of gadding about through the whole country after a- musement, you here find us continually at work, and busy from day to day, as if our sustenance depend- ed on the labour of our hands. JI dare say you are much surprised at this, though I am happy to see you fall into our way with much more ease than } could have expected. I {hall be glad if.you conti- nue to do so; for I am so pleased with your ingenu- ous candour and gooduefs of heart, that I begin to feel myself nearly as much interested in your wel~ rs oy x ———_— @792. letter from Isabella to Albert. 297 fare as in that of my own daughters; and were [ not convinced that the acquiring a habit of industry at an early period of life, was of the utmost conse- quence to female happinefs, believe me, I never fhould have bestowed half the pains about it I have ‘done. ‘* If we were all certain that we fhould die young, I fhould not have thought this a matter of great im- portance ; for at an early period of life our minds are so volatile and flighty,—there are so many new ob- jects to attract our attention,—and nature has attach- ed such power to the charms of youth,—and others are then so much disposed to bear with follies and impertinencies from us, as to make life pafs very smoothly on at that period, even where no durable fund, or sources of amusement have been prepared. But when years steal on, the world will no longer tole- sate girlifg impertinencies; the adulation which youth and beauty obtain, begins to subside ; and amusements of another sort become necefsary even in the prime of life. But when old age approaches, a woman who has not accustomed herself to find amusement in work of one sort or other, becomes the most uncomfor- table being imaginable. She is no longer able to par- take in active amusements abroad ; ihe is deserted i at home ; solitude becomes a burden fhe cannot sup- port ; and fhe has scarcely an alternative left, but either to betake herself to the card table or the clo- set.”’ . I fhuddered at this recital. ‘* You seem to be startled, my dear, at this hocking description ; but _be not afraid, there is no necefsity for being reduced 278 fetter from Isabella to Albert. Oct. 2f- to this deplorable dilemma; and I hope you will never experience that wearinefs which leads to its but you ought to observe how difficult it is to avoid it, unlefs it be by the help of that endlefs and innocent amusement, work. We all hope to be married one time or other; and if so, in the natural course of things, a woman sometimes must be confined to the house, and always ought to take pleasure in home 5 but if fhe has no resource for amusement, how can that be? and without taking pleasure in female — work, and domestic concerns, how can home be pleasing ?_—A man has generally his businefs to attend. Few hufbands can either afford to keep in their family idle persons to furnifh amusement for their wives; or if they could afford it, would they like to have them there?+A woman, therefore, finds herself, soon after matriage, in a new situa- tion, in which solitude, to a certain degreg, must be experienced. If dhe has been in the custom of ta+ king.pleasure in work, fhe finds abundance of it to employ her; and fhe has the satisfaction of contri+ ving something new for the convenience of her fami- ly, without incurring unnecefsary expence ; and of ten fhe has the pleasure of obliging her hufband by presenting him with some little thing done by her own hand, as a mark of her attention to his conveni- ence or taste. This is, m general, the surest means of procuring reciprocal attachment from him. You cannot, my dear, at your time of life, form an idea of the domestic pleasure that such trifling attentions produce.”” And here, my Albert, had you seen with what a gentle suffusion her eyes were-filled on myg2. —idetter from Isabella to Albert. 24g this occasion, you would have been delighted.—*‘ One attention begets another,—as one neglect is the fruitful source of many other disobliging acts of un- kindnefs, which are the cause of much domestic misery.” - I could not help being struck with these remarks, which I found had not occurred to Mrs D. now for _the first time; for her whole conduct discovers that fhe has been actuated on every occasion by these principles; and fhe is herself a living example of . the justnefs of her own maxims, I tried to make some acknowledgements for her goodnefs, for speak- ing so kindly to me.—She smiled at my aukward efforts,—for my mind was so imprefsed with a con- viction that fhe would perceive I had her own con. duct in my eye, that I stammered, and hesitated at every word.—She hastened to relieve me. _** You would surely like, my dear, to be beauti- _ ful,” said fhe in.2 more lively manner ; ‘* and what would you give if I thould teach you the secret of be- coming so ?” ‘ That would be a discovery indeed,’ said I, recovering myself. ‘‘ Believe me,” said fhe, “ it is not such a difficult thing as many persons imagine, I cannot indeed teach you how toacquire the nicest sym- _metry of features ; or those delicate tints that produce universal admiration. These are gifts that bountiful nature alone can bestow ; but there is a charm, supe- tior far to any thing that these can give, that it isin the power of every young woman to acquire. But my dear,” said the, gently patting my head, as I sat in silent attention beside her, “ it is now time to walk ;—go, my dears, and divert yourselves toge= 28e on popularity. . \ Octage ther ; and when you are tired with play, and sitdown > agen to work, I fhall teach you the envied artof be-: coming beautiful ; and, let me tell you, it is not eve- ry one to whom I would communicate this impor- tant secret.” Such, my dear Albert, is the stile of our conver- gations while at work. I listen with the most anxi- ous attention ; and not a word that charming woman utters is lost upon me. J have a thousand things to’ say ; but my paper is nearly filled; though I have written the last part of it so small, that 1 with you may be able to read it. I-was going to entreat you to beseech my mother to let me stay here as long as I am to be from home; and not to make me return’ any more to the boarding school. I had prepared a hundred reasons to induce you to be hearty in the cause; but I have only room to mention the last, which, I know, will ever be the most powerful with you, and that is, that nothing could ever contribute so much to the happinefs of your IsABELLA. ON POPULARITY. Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. Tue admifsion into your useful miscellany, of the following observations, concerning the best means of obtaining the most substantial popularity, will ob- lige, at least, one of your readers. Justice, like allother virtues, is amiable. A man, when treated with equity or justice, has no reason to expect more; he is pleased, and rests contented: but generosity, when opportunity offers, or when ob- 192 on popularity. 28s jects occur proper for it, is still more amiable: how many pleasing effects it produces, both with respect to the persons who are its objects, and to their bene- factor, it is impofsible to enumerate or fully to des- cribe. In the persons relieved, it creates much happinefs, begets the warmest gratitude, and the most hearty attachment, and prompts them both by words and actions, to make their benefactor, when they can, suitable returns ; and to the generous man, it yields the pleasing satisfaction of diffusing good- nefs, and of rendering a number of his fellow men happy. By dealing justly we leave no room for complaint ; but by. well timed generosity, we gain the hearts of men; and their favourable and affec- tionate report is an acquisition of great value, and highly pleasing to every ingénuous mind. For a righteous man, or for aman merely just, scarcely will one die, but peradventure for a good or gene~ rous man, seme would even dare to die. Men are made to feel not only for themselves, but also for their fellow men; thus they weep with them that weep, and rejoice with them who rejoice ; they resent in various ways the injuries done to the help- Jefs and innocent, as if done to themselves ; and they feel an high degree of thankfulnefs for the good deeds _done to their indigent brethren ; and thus a tribute of affection and praise is paid to the beneficent man by all around him. : To maintain a social intercourse with our neigh. bours of the same rank, is no doubt proper ; but it is to be remembered, that a true friend is not every where to be found,—that our visits at a distance VOL, di. NWN + 282 on popularity. Oct. 244 cannot be many, nor are these’ generally interest- ing. The world at large are but little acquainted with our real characters, nor are they much con- cetued to know them. It is in the domestic circle, within which we live, where our conduct is scruti- nized, and daily viewed on every side,—that we are most thoroughly known; and when the opinion of our servants, of our dependants, and neighbours, with- in that circle, however narrow it may be, is, upon trial, or upon good ground, favourable, it diffuses its influence asthe sun its light and heat, through the remoter parts of society: for the public almost in- variably take their opinions, whether favourable or unfavourable, from. domestic reports ; therefore our families, and our immediate neighbourhood, merit our first attention. The result then is, that those who would gain the public esteem, and the friend{hip of the -worthy, must, in the first place, be just, and then generous, as their circumstances will permit. For the conduct of those must appear in a very unfavourable light ; who affect to be generous, and yet neglect to pay their lawful “debts ; who expend large sums upon shows and enter- tainments, ‘and leave their tradesmen’s bills unpaid, and thereby expose their families to misery and want ; and who, like the Pharisees, make a fhew of libera- lity to the poor, but endeavour to refund them- selves, by devouring widow’s houses, and encroach upon the rights of their simple dependants: the can- didates then for substantial fame, fhould, with an at- tentive, and an impartial eye, inquire, whether there | are, by negligence or otherwise, any instances of in= 2792. on popularity. 283 justice to be found, or avy encroachments made up- on the rights of others, within their department, and correct them without delay. The rich can defend themselves, but the poor’ have often no relief but in erying to God; and he will hear them. They complain too in private to the men of their own condition, and their voice is carried as upon wings, and makes, up- ~ on all ranks, the deepest imprefsion. Promises fhould not be rafhly made> because circumstances may oc- cur which may render the performance difficult, or impracticable ; but when they are made, and no valid objection afterwards arises, they ought to be per- ‘formed. Promises convey a certain kind of right, and therefore raise expectations; a failure, then, or o- mifsion, in these cases, creates disappointment ; and disappointment, resentment, and disgust, and com- -plaints, and many disagreeable effects. Considering how different the characters, and tem- pers, and opinions of mien are, it will easily appear, that no man can act so ag to please all. Whoever at- tempts this, attempts an impofsibility. By varying his conduct like the wind, instead of gaining applause, he incurs the contempt and displeasure of all; where- as the man who obeys: the dictates, and courts the approbation of his own «well informed mind, is na- turally led to act his part steadily and uniformly well ; and bids fairer than men of a different charac- ter not only for the enjoyment of internal peace, but ~ for obtaining the confidence, the -approbation, and g PP ? friendfhip of all the worthy and the good. _ In a word, of his plan who would with for sub- “stantial popularity, or durable fame, piety or téli- 284 remarks on Thunderprooy’s efsays. Ovt. th» gion, must make an efsential part. Excepting reli- gion, all the other principles of human conduct, ha- ‘ving for their objects things which daily change, must, Tike them, be subject to perpetual variations, and the conduct founded upon them, mutable and uncertain. Upon men thus unstable as water, what wise man can depend? Whereas the principle of religion, ha- ving God for its object, as he is unchangeable, must, “in some degtee, be immutable also; or to say the ‘Teast, it is fixed and steady. Besides, religion, having for its object God, who is the supreme beauty, must render a man truly amiable. ‘Whom do we with for a companion or friend whom we can heartily love? or a counsellor upon whose i integrity and faithfulnefs “we can without suspicion depend? The man who “fears God, and sets him continually before him. Wherever piety is, it fhows itself, not only by equity and beneficence to men, but by external acts ‘of worfhip or devotion ; where these then are want- ing, we can neither love nor trust so much as we would wifh. The conclusion of the whole is, that real piety is the finest ornament of the human cha- racter. IJ am, Sir, Yours, te. Amicus. Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. - ly your last Bee, I observe a reply from Mr Thun- derproof, to my observations on his ‘* remarks,” Mr T. wisely avoids entering into any particular dis« cufsion of the subject, and contents himself with ma- 1792. remarks on Thunderproof’s efsays. 285. ‘king a few straggling criticisms, that hardly deserve ‘any notice. Ia the first place, Mr T. accuses me of misquoting, ‘him, and perverting his meaning, in that part of his ‘* remarks,” where he speaks of the pacific character ‘of James 1. I think it is evident, from the warm and enthusiastic manner in which he mentions the pro- longation of this monarch’s life, that he wifhed to con- ‘nect with it the idea of peace and prosperity. Had he lived, Mr T. afserts, to the present time, this country would have been zow in a State of prosperi- tyy beyond the imagination or vanity of man to ‘conceive. He indeed afsociates the ‘¢ tranquillity of the country,” with the life of James ; but this I con- ceive to be a uselefs repetition, as the predicted pro- sperity could arise only from the pacific inclinations of this monarch ; not surely from his talents for in- ternal government or legislation. Mr T’s distinction betwixt ‘* worst,” and. ‘‘ most destructive,” though curious enough, has not even ‘the merit of a quibble or sophism. I did not say - that he applied the superlative “ worst,” to the moral character of lord Chatham. This he acknowledges himself; and surely, in a political sense, the ** worst ‘ minister,” and the ** most destructive minister,” are synonimous terms. ' Lafserted that Mr T. called Sir Robert Walpole the best of ministers. He denies it, and says I am ‘the first who ever said so. I beg leave to quote the ‘paragraph whence I drew my conclusion. After calling lord C. ‘* the most destructive minister that ever any nation was cursed with,” he adds, “* yet this 286 = remarks on Thunderproof’s efsays. Oct. Bho man we Frefer to Sir Robert Walpole, a statesman, whose maxim it was to keep us at peace’ with all the world.” JI leave to your readers to judge, whe- ther, from this opposition, Mr T. did not consider Sir Rebert Walpole’s character as directly the re- verse of Chatham’s ; whence it follows, as a necefsary consequence, that since lord Chatham was the worst of ministers, Sir Robert must have been the best. It is difficult to conceive what Mr T. would be at, when he talks of the madnefs ‘* of the war system.” Every friend to humanity must deplore the devasta- tion and havock of war; but to conceive the idea of living in continual and universal peace, an idea very much talked of at present, is, I am :afraid, one of those extravagancies into which mortals are at times — apt to fall. It is an idea too exalted for our present system. Could we extinguifh the guilty pafsions ofam- bition, revenge, avarice, superstition, envy, we might _ then enjoy the calm which Mr T. so much desires. But I leave to the philosophers to decide, whether, even in that case, mankind would inherit 2 much greater degree of happinefs than we do at present : or whether the world would not resemble a standing pool, or dead, inactive mafs, where virtue would disappear as well as vice; where there would be neither love nor hatred, hope nor fear, which, pro- perly balanced, and mingled in the cup of life, form the true enjoyment of it. For “my part I conceive the pafsions of mankind no lefs necefsary to stir up and agitate the moral world, and to prevent astagna~ 4492. on caterpillars. . 234 tion, than the winds are to prevent a stagnation of the sea. I am respectfully, Sir, Your most humble servant, George's pak, Sople 25. 4792. MIsOBRONTES. A SINGULAR PHENOMENON RESPECTING A CATERPILLAR. a To the Editor of the Bee. ‘Tuts day, while another gentleman and I were pay- ing our devoirs at the temple of a certain goddefs ; we observed two or three caterpillars with some- thing at the sides of two of them, of a yellowith co- lour; which, upon a nearer inspection, we found to be a great number of cocoons of silk, differing only in size from those of the silk worm. On breaking one of these, a juicy substance came out. Being de- sirous of making further observations on these ca- terpillars, we brought into the house one with, and another without the cocoons. It was then about ten o’clock. In an hour and an |;alf afterwards, we saw about eighteen living creatures making their way out of the last mentioned caterpillar, nearly about the middle of the body. They did not resemble the cater- pillar in any respect; being of a yellowifh colour, pointed, and blackith towards the head, and without any feet. As soon as they had made their way out of the body, they immediately commenced spinning cocoons, similar to those about the other caterpillar. By five o’clock they had completed their work. During all this time the mother lay perfectly mo- 288 on caterpillars. che 24. tionlefs. All this tous appeared so very surprising, knowing that all caterpillars first pafs into the nymph or chrysalis state, and then become butterflies, at which period the eggs are deposited, that I deter- mined to communicate to you what we had seen, in hopes that you, or if you think this letter worthy of insertion in, your useful miscellany, some of your correspondents, would afford us some information on this subject. Iam, Sir, _ Your constant reader and admirer, Edinburgh, i JUvENIs. Sept. 23. 1792.: P. §. It was my intention to send a drawing of the caterpillar ; but ['think it best to send one of them, the other I fhall keep to make further obser- ‘vations. | Observations on the above. \ ‘Atonc with the above letter was sent, ina box, a caterpillar, which is exactly delineated in the mis- cellaneous plate, fig. 7. p. 244, with two parcels of cocoons of a yellowith colour, as there represented ; all of the natural size. The caterpillar was still alive on the 26th, but refused to eat. It continued to fhow signs of life for a day longer, when it fi- nally expired. The cocoons remain till this time, October 14th, without any change. . OF all the works of nature none appear more sur- prising to the contemplative mind than the pheno- nomena that respect reptiles and insects; two clafses of animals extremely different in appearance, yet, in reality, connected with each other by the nearest re- lation. Among the reptile tribe there are three prin- 5792+ on caterpillars. 289 cipal divisions which are produced from the eggs of 4nsects, each of which admit a great number of Jefser varieties. These are caterpillars, grubs, and ‘maggots. Nor-is the interposition of providence. more conspicuously apparent in any one instance, ‘than in that unerring instinct that directs the pa- rent fly to deposit its eggs upon such substances as are fitted to afford proper food for the young, -as soon as they fhall be produced. In general cater- pillars are deposited on plants, grubs in the earth, and maggots in animal substances. But though this rule be general, it is not univer- ‘sal. The gall insects, whose eggs produce a species of maggot, are always deposited on-plants peculiar to -each species. And though I do not at present re- collect any animal of the caterpillar tribe that lives on animal substances, yet it is by no means impof- sible but there may be some of that kind. Whether the animals that ifsued from the body of these ca- terpillars were of this sort, or to what other clafs of reptiles they belong, remains to be as- ‘certained. That they could not be the young of the caterpillar itself from which they ifsued, seems, ‘to be undeniable ; as'this would be a mode of pro- creation totally different from what is known to take place among that tribe of animals. From the obser- . vations of my correspondent, indeed, -it’ does not seem to be of the caterpillar genus at all, asit wants. “feet ; nor is the cocoon of the nature of that produ. ced by caterpillars in general; for these are always. made to envelope a chrysalis for a.time; whereas, upon examining some of the small cocoons here al- Juded to, there is not the smallest appearance of a VOL. xi. 00 wets t ~ 29@ on caterpillars. Oct. 44. chrysalis can be discovered. The outer envelope of ; I . . these cocoons, is a substance in every respect resem- bling the outer part of a silk worm’s cocoon, only the threads are much more tender, and in smaller quan- tity ; for the greatest part of it consists of a ball con- taining an oblong bag, filled with a kind of thickith juice, more resembling an egg without a fhell, than’ any thing to which I can liken it. What animal is to be produced from this egg I fhall be glad to know. It appears to me that the insect which ought to be produced from this species of cocoon, has deposited its eggs in the body of the caterpillar, which have there been hatched, like maggots in other animal substances, and which have subsisted on the cater- pillar itself till the time of their transformation ap- proached, when they have burst their confinement, and prepared for another state of existence ; as is common with all animals of this kind. The production of a silky web is by no means pe- culiar to the caterpillar genus. The web of a spider is well known’; and several kinds of snails produce occasionally threads of great strength, which they have the power of availing themselves of for tempo- rary uses; but I know not if! any of these retain strength for any permanence of time. I was myself witnefs to the strength of a rope of this sort last summer, which occasioned to me no little surprise. The fact I fhall here relate, to see if any of, my rea- ders can. give any satisfactory elucidations on that subject. . 2792. on snails. 29% g, Phenomenon respecting snails. In a fine summer evening was discovered a large cluster of the common black snail, suspended from the branch of a tree, which was about six feet from the ground, by astroag fhining transparentlike thread, of the size ef acommon packthread. At the time they were observed, this thread was fully three feet in length; the snails were entwined in one another ; and, being then nearly dark, the precise number of them could not be ascertained; but’ it seemed there might be about five or six that were evidently working at the time; and we could see protruded from the under part of the cluster, a white substance, brighter than.the thread above, which gradually lengthened. After standing for'some time, and ob- serving this operation, as well as the little light we had would permit, we went away for some time; and, on our return, it was evident the thread had been lengthened, as they were still in the same posi- tion, but nearer the ground. As it was now begin- ning to grow late, we left them; but in the morning no traces of the thread could be perceived. It wasa large tree, with cavities in the trunk ; and it seemed to me that the snails had taken that method of letting themselves down to the ground in the evening, that they might feed there through the night ; and that they ascended the tree in the morning, to hide themselves through the day in-their lurking holes ; —but whether they re-ascended by their thread, and drew it up with them; or whether they crawled up the tree without it, I know not. There were evi- _ dent traces, though slight, of snails upon the trunk of the tree. It is evident that snails can ascend upon a » 2925. on reptiles ard insects. — Oct. 24. a tree; but, perhaps, they have difficulty in descend- ing. I never saw a snail in the act of descending, that I can recollect, though this may only have elu- ded remark. i Our knowledge of reptiles, and insects, is yet but inconsiderable; and, though these objects appear trifling to the bulk of mankind, yet many: are the benefits that might be derived to man from a perfect acquaintance with this subject. The larve.of in- sects afford a delicious repast to many animals; and,. by what Dr Anderson states of the white lac inf Ben- gal, (Bee vol. ix. p. 4, ec.) it would seem that some of these might be employed as food forman. At any rate, an exact knowledge of the insects’that produce the eggs of various reptiles, which are highly de-. structive to man,—of the food they require,—the times of niditication,—the duration of life in their dif. ferent states.—the circumstances that are favourable /o¥ noxious to them in their different stages,—the ani- mals which seek them for food, Sc. might be of the ut- most-utility ; as, by that knowledge, man might not only be able to free himself from the most noxious kinds; but even occasionally to convert these to profit, by employing them as. food for other animals, of whose Jabours he could avail himself. This is therefore a wide field for useful investigation, which ambitious youth will do well te cultivate. Pe ae ae eK o> ” \ DOETRY. LIFE, A SONG. For the Bee. Since life isaload we must bear, No more let us under it groan 5 Keep us buta stranger to care, The world, as it pleases, may frown: The cautions of that sullen sot, Incefsantly tingle the ear, With, « stranger to usall.” The soldier then fhewed a discharge ‘from Diefbach’s regiment, (signed by the major, who gave ‘him an excellent character,) and a pafsport from compte ie Maillebois, governor of Breda. The widow believing the stranger to be an-honest man, as he really was, call. + OL, Xi. ‘PP ee 298 a providential deliverance. Oct. 243 _ ed her son, and afked him, if he would accommodate a veteran, who had served the republic thirty years with reputation, with a part of his bed. The young man con- sented, and the soldier was hospitably entertained, and withdrew to rest. Some hours after, a loud thumping. was heard at the street door, which roused the soldier, who stole softly down stairs, and listened in the hall. The blows were repeated, and the door almost broken’ through by a sledge, or some heavy imstrument. By this time the affrighted widow and her daughters were run- ning about and screaming, murder! murder! but the son having joined the soldier, with a case of loaded pistols, and the latter screwing on his bayonet, and frefh priming. his piece, which was well filled with slugs, desired the women to retire, as bloody work might be expected in a few minutes. Soon after the door was burst in, gnd two- fellows entered, and-were instantly fhot by the son, who discharged both his pistols at once. ‘Two more returned the favour from without, but without effect; and the in- trepid weteran, taking immediate advantage of the dis- charge of their arms, rufhing on them like a lion, ran ,one through the body with his bayonet, and whilst the, other was running away, lodged the contents of his piece be- tween his fhoulders, and he dropped dead on the spot. They then closed the door as well as they could; reload- ed their arms ; made a good fire; and watched till day- light, when a number’ of weavers and spinners came to resume their employment; we may guefs their horror and surprise on seeing four men dead on a dunghill, where the soldier had dragged them before the door was fhut. The burgomaster and his syndic attended, and took the depositions of the family relative to this affair, The bo- dies were buried in a crofs road, and a stone erected over: the grave, with this inscription: “here lie the wretched - carcases of four unknown rufhians, who deservedly lost their lives, in an attempt te rob and murder a worthy wo- — 702 Indian magnanimity. 299 man and her family. A stranger who slept in the house, to which divine providence undoubtedly directed him, was the principal instrument in preventing the perpetra- tion of such horrid designs, which justly entitles him to a. lasting memorial, and the thanks of the public. John Adrian de Vries, a discharged soldier, from the regiment of Diefbach, a native of Middleburgh in Zealand, and up- wards of seventy years old, was the David who slew two of these Goliaths ; the rest being killed by the son of the family. In honorem, et gratitudinis ergo, Dei optimi maxima pletatis. et innocentie summu, protectoris,—magistratus et con- cilium civitatis Dortrechiensis hoe signum bap curavere xx. die Nov. annoque salutaris humant, 1785." The wi- dow presented the soldier with an hundred guineas, and the city settled an handsome pension on him for the rest of his life. INDIAN MAGNANIMITY. Ay Indian, who had not met with his usual succefs in hunting, wandered down to a plantation among the back ‘settlements in Virginia, and seeing a planter at his door, afked for a morsel of bread, for he was very hungry. The planter bid him’ begone, for he would give him none. p> Wil you give me then acup of your beer?” said the In- dian. ‘ No, you fhall have none here,” replied the planter, “ But I am very faint,” said the savage, ‘ will you give me only a draught of cold water?” ‘ Get you gene you Indian dog, you hall have nothing here,’ said the planter. It hap- pened, somt months after, that the planter went on a fhoot- ing party up into the woods, where, intent upon his game, he mifsed his company, and lost his way ; and night com- ing on, he wandered through the forest, till he espied an _ Indian wigwam. He approached the savage’s habitation, 308 a prture of a court: Oct. 24+- and afked him to thew him the way to a ‘plantation on that side of the country. “It is too late for you to go there this evening Sir,” said the Indian; “‘ but if you will ac- cept of my homely fare, you are-welcome.” He then of- fered him some venison, and such other refrefhment’as his store afforded ; and having laid some*bear fkins for his bed, he desired that. he would repose himself for the night, and he would awaken him early in the morning, and conduct him on his way. Accordingly in the morning they set off, and - the Indian led him out of the forest, and put him in the-road he was to go ; but just as they were taking leave, he step- ped before the planter, then turning round, and staring full. in his face, bid him say whether he recollected his features. The planter was now struck with fhame and horror, when: he beheld, in his kind protector, the Indian whom he had. so harfhly treated. He confefsed that he knew him, and. was full of excuses for his brutal behaviour ; to which the —s -— 2 ~ Indian only replied: “ When you see poor Indians faint. . ing for a cup of cold water, don’t say again, ‘ Get you. gone, you Indian dog!’ The Indian then wifhed him well on his journey, and left him. It isnot difficult to say, which of these two had the best claim to the name of a Christian. ' SS A PICTURE OF THE COURT, DRAWN: FROM THE LIFE, BY AN ABLE PAINTER. Turns, every one obeys that he may command they cringe thatthey may exalt themselves; at every instant they change parts ;—every one is protected and protector ;—every one receives vain promises, and gives others as vain in the same moment, It would seem that no person dies in that region; for in a moment every one is forgotten,—every one is re- E7928 a-picture of the court. “gO! placed, without the smallest. appearance of ahy change. - This is the abode of envy and of hope; while the one torments, the other consoles, and gives birth to agreeable chimeras. Death seizes the inhabitants in the midst of hopes that have been disappointed for-twenty years,—in the midst of projects which would demand another life. Those ‘ who do know this country, believe it to be a place filled with delights; those who inhabit it; speak-ill of it,. but cannot leave it. Serve the prince, said-a wise. man to his son, in his em- bafsies, in his armies, but never at court, whatever place, . or whatever appointments are afsigned to you. A courtier said, one day to one of his old college com. panions, who was a labourer: Wherefore do you not’ learn to please ? you would them be no longer obliged to live by the labour of your hands; And why, answered: the other, do you not learn to werk? you would no longer be obliged:to be a slave.. On ambition. ie ibe best of all good things, says M. Retz, is repose. All the pleasures. which nature can bestaw, become insipid to him who is agitated by. ambition, who is tor- mented by vanity, or torn by envy. You fhall see a man en'whom fortune has been prodigal of her choicest fa- yours, to whom. nature has given a sound and vigorous body ; who is beloved by his wife, and his children, whom. be cherifhes ; whose presence spteads pleasure and joy. in his. family, where he is only an apparition; who, if he lived on his own domains, would .enjoy. the pleasure of. doing good to a set of numerous vafsals, but he there takes his appearance only three or four times inva year 5 and is then scarcely seen till he is gone again. This man does not feel the value of health; he does not enjoy his 462 plan of Switseriand. Oct: 245 fortune. His ife, which might flow on in that kind of animated leisure; which results from the exercise of acts of beneficence, is consumed in agitation and in fear. In- dependent by his riches, he devotes himself to servitude, and is tormented by chagreen. His sleep, which ought to be pleasing, is troubled by envy and disquietude. He writes, he cringes, he solicits, he tears himself from plea- sure, and gives himself up to occupations that are not suited to his taste; he in a measure refuses to live during forty years of his life, in order that he may obtain. em- ployment, dignities, marks of distinction, which, when he obtains them he cannot enjoy. PLAN OF SWITZERLAND IN RELIEF. Ty the city of Lucerne in Switzerland is to be seen one of the greatest curiosities of its kind in Europe ;—a plan, in relief, of the countries adjacent to that lake so justly fa- med in Helvetic story, This surprising work, which dis- covers alike the patriotic spirit and unsurmountable per- severance of the undertaker, is carried on at the sole ex- pence of general Pfiffer who: has been busied about it upwards of twelve years, and still continues to augment it from day to day. In the mean time he allows strangers’ accefs to see it with the utmost politenefs. One there perceives, with surprise, the proportional height and form of the rocks ; the declivity of the moun- tains ; the kind of trees which grow there, according to the soil and the elevation ; the direction of the roads and of the paths; the course of the rivers which divide the plains, the vallies, and the mountains are all marked. The sinuosities of the rivulets, and the falls in ‘cascades ; the position of the lakes, cities, burghs, villages, and castles, £792. te correspondents. 303, that of single houses, are all observable, even to the crof- ses placed along the road, and ihe form of the houses. This map in relief, comprehends sixty square leagues, and includes the cantons of Uri, Switz, Undervald, and part of the cantons of Lucerne, Zug, and Berne. Ali the objects are coloured; it occupies a space of twelve feet long by nine feet and a half bread, andthe lake of Lucerr e has been taken for the center of the plan. The substance of it is a composition of pitch and wax, except the mountains, for which stone has been employed. TO CORRESPONDENTS, ‘Tue Editor agrees in opinion with one of the friends of the people, though he doubts if the mode of writing he has adopted be the best calculated for effecting the end he has in view. On that account,he will deliberate before he resolves to insert that paper. 4 The facts respecting the viper, which have been received from seve- ral hands, fhall be communicated to our readers in due time. ‘The communication by a young observer, is received, and fhall have its turn. Yackstrotte’s communication on the same subject is also received, and fhall be delayed till he has had an opportunity of seeing the former; as it will tend to supersede some of his remarks, ; The favour of F. L. is received. Th¢ hints of 4. 1. M. thall be duly adverted to. ; Tanks to R. W. for his fhort article. Authentic facts respecting na- tural history, or the progrefs of the human mind, that are not generally known, are always acceptable. G. B. deserves thanks for his elaborate afsay. It might be improved, if it were considerably abridged. Should the writer attempt it, he will find it a profitable tafk in his beginning exercises in composition. Thanks to C. C, for his obliging atrention. The traveller by E. G. is thankfully received. A continuation will be very acceptable. The communications by Ein Leibbaber, are come to hand.—His farther correspondence is requested.—The Editor feels more sensibly than he can do, the disappointment he has received by a breach of compact with a correspondent in Germany, who undertook in the mest liberal manner ; but has performed nothing. There is no bringing such culprits to punifh- ment, except by holding them up to detestation to the public; and this the Editor has been sometimes tempted to do nominatim; but be believes silent contempt is the more manly procedure. The Editor regrets the expence of postage ; writing small on large paper would greatly diminifh this. It might perhaps be farther diminithed did the Editor know his particular addrefs, The book is not translated. ° 304 ‘tocorrespondents. Oct. Hat The poem Liberty Ball, is written with ease and spirit; but it is too im . €orrect for publication; and, in some places, the exprefsions are rather harth. The Editor remarks with surprise, some corrections that weré found in the Bee box, seemingly in the same hand writing, which ap pear to be of an opposite-tendency to the rest of the poem; of these the : following ts a specimen. 7 ; Now the period’s come at last, -Freedom sounds her final blast; Anarchy, and defamation, Are the,fruits of usurpation. a Hence! ye thamelefs base usurpers ! * Of both faith and truth corrupters : Misrule’s the bane of liberty ! Who scorn the laws can ne’er be free. ; The Editor suspects that some wag who has seen the verses, has chosen this method to travestie them. Whatever opinion he may form of the above, he is happy to agree with this corrector in the following < stanza. | May the Britith constitution, Save us from a revolution; And still secure us peace and rest, Without one grievance unredrest! " From these specimens the writer will-sce, that the corrections accord. - 50 little with the geireral tenor of the first-edition, that the Editor does y Mot choose to intermeddle init; though the following lines, which are.a_ very favourable specimen of the writer’s composition, give a liberty he never wifhes to exercise ; because he does not consider himself qualified _ for the tafks nor, if he were; would he choose to-exercise it. Cut and carve, or throw away 5 If encourag’d, Sir, you may Hear again another day, “From your friend and liberty, Truth, and right, and equity. ‘Grace and growing to the Bee ; ‘Sir, your servant, frank.and free. ve ‘ PLAIN ENGLISH, ’'To hear from this correspondent, with equal ease and spirit as above, on any subject not connected with politics, will give the Editor pleasure. “But, as he wifhes to keep all his readers in good hnmour if he can, he is - desirous of avoiding subjects of a political nature at presznt. There are “too few persons who can have the philanthropy of uncle Toby,—to bid the poor annoying insect go.guietly about its businefs ; for, though the world is wide enough for us ail, to allow others to indulge their whims ~.without being disturbed by them; yet there are many persons of such an irritable disposition, that they cannot be kept at rest; when others are bozzing around and teazing them 5 sc that, like Don Quixote, they get themselves into a pafsion,+-attack fheep, and puppet shows, and wind mills, as they come in their way; and afier having occasioned much mischief to - others, come off at last with broken bones themselves:—The Editor withes to avoid these fruitlefs squabbles. Some.articles still omitted a 99+. THE BEE, Wi a : oS LITERARY WEEKLY INTELLIGENCER, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 32. 1792. THE POLAR, OR GREAT WHITE BEAR. ‘Nature hath bountifelly decreed, that no part of “the surface of the earth fhould be destitute of animals. ‘Some are endowed with the faculty of bearing, with- ‘out annoyance, a heat that would roast the greater VOL, Xd. ' ee + 306 on the polar bear. Oct. 31. part of animals which inhabit the earth; while others delight so much in cold, that they are only to be found in those regions where frost and ice eternally abound. To some, the sandy desart, a= lone, is found to supply their wants ; while others can only exist in swamps and marfhy bogs. The water, itself, and air, and every thing we touch or handle, is full of life. ; Among the quadrupeds of the coldest regions, the ‘polar bear is the most conspicuous, not only for its size, but for its amazing strength, agility, and fero- city. In size it greatly exceeds all other, animals of the bear tribe, being sometimes found to measure thirteen feet in length. Its limbs are .of great thicknefs and strength;-its hair long, harfh-and dis agreeable te the touch, and of a yellowifh white co= lour; and it has the singular peculiarity of being naturally disposed into tufts, very much resembling : the manner in which a brufh is made ; its ears are. fhort and rounded ; its muzzle long and tharpith 5 and. its teeth large. ad ~It has seldom been seen batter south than Neves foundland; but abounds chiefly on the thores | of Hudson’s Bay and Greenland, on one side, and Spitz bergen and Nova Zembla on the other, - cate se? «¢ There, the fhapelefs bear, ; With dangling ice all horrid, stalks foslorn, Slow-pac’d, and sourer as the storms increase, He makes his bed beneath th’ inclement drift, And, with stern patience, scorning weak complaint, Hardens his heart against afsailing want.’” During summer, they take up their residence on large islands of ice, and frequently pafs from one to 1792. on the polar bear. Bi 307 another. They swim well, and can go the distance of six or seven leagues: they will dive; but cannot continue long under water. When the pieces of ice are detached by strong winds or currents, the bears allow themselves to be carried along with them ; and as they cannot regain the land, or abandon the ice on which they are embarked, they often perifh at sea. But fhould a fhip come, near them, instigated by hunger, and naturally fearlefs, they will boldly board it, and resolutely seize and devour the first ani- mal they meet with. On these occasions, neither fire, nor noise, nor any kind of threats, will stop it in its progrefs ; nor can any thing but the death of the ani- mal, itself, save the crew from its rapacious gripe ; for it will follow them.up the fhrouds, and along the yards, wherever these are sufficiently strong to bear its weight. Sometimes bears are thus driven upon the coast of Norway, almost famifhed for hunger by their long voyage ; but as soon as the natives discover one of ‘them, they arm themselves, and presently dispatch ‘him. Jts flefh is white, and it is Said to eat like mutton. The fat is melted for train ot] ; and that “of the feet is used in medicine. : The white bear brings forth two young at a tiene. Notwithstanding their savage appearance, and natu- ral ferocity; their fondnefs for their offspring is so great, that they will die rather than desert them * Wounds serve only to make the attachment more violent : they embrace their cubs to the last, and be- moan them with the most piteous cries. f _ * See a remarkable instance of this sort, Bee, vol, vii p. go, 308 influence of taste on rural life. Ott: 31;. They feed on fifh, seals, and the carcases-of whales. Attraeted: by, the scent of seals fleth, they often break. into the huts of the Greenlanders. They sometimes attack the morse, with which they have terrible con- flicts ; but the large teeth of that. animal, give it a: decided superiority over the bear, which is general.. ly worsted. . AAN ESSAY SHOWING HOW TASTE EXALTS: THE PLEA-- SURES OF RURAL LIFE. By THE AUTHOR OF THE ESSAY ON THE INFLUENCE OF TASTE, Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. Some time ago I had a letter from. an acquaintance of mine, who has been long resident: at a distance: from the metropolis, m_ the quiet retirement of the country, and mixing but little im the busy bustling haunts ef pleasure or ambition in the capital. This letter is so full of the effects of that taste and. discernment which: I have endeavoured. to explain and promote, that I cannot refuse myself the gratifi- cation of at least attempting to find a place for it in, your elegant miscellany. I am, Sir, your humble Servint, ® B. A. My pear Sir,’ London, Sept: 1. ¥792. ' You will be surprised to receive a letter from me dated at this place, which is now a desart, from the general emigration of the beau monde to Bath, Buxton, Tunbridge, Cheltenham, Harrowgate, Scar- horopgh, Weymouth, Brightelmstone, Margate, B7Q2- = influence of taste-on rural life: 309% and every supposible place of amusement in the~ ‘Kingdom, except to the truly set and interesting: places of their rural ‘abode. For my own part, I have been here but for a few. days, to sell some stock in the three per cents, to in- -yest'in the country, and fhall soon turn my back upot: sin and sea coal, and taste again as soon as pofsible, the chaste and delightful. emotions that: accompany the mihi me reddentis. It is really astonifhing to ob- _ serve the fatuity of people. of landed estate, who, as if they were universally planet-struck, under the ‘sign of the waterman, seem to have no other idea of. summer amusement, but in water-bibbing at these scenes of nastine/s and difsipation. I can easily di- -vine, indeed, the cause of some men flying with - their families from London, like hunted stags, that. they may escape their followers, by plunging into the deep, like dolphins in the wake of sinking ma-. -riners: but by what witchcraft families of reputa- ‘tion, and independent fortune, are induced to forsake the delightful.and profitable scenes of their rural re- --sidence, I fhould have been altogether unable even. ‘to guefé, had I not myself experienced in the begin. ning of my life, the cause of this miserable perver- sion. of sense and sentiment, in the want of a system _of rational pursuit. Having been originally educated on the automaton plan of fafhionable life, I was for. eed (though an excellent repeater, and even provided ‘with an extensive darre/ of the most’ excellent ‘'chisnes,) to go every now and then to a watering place, to get myself wound up, and made to xo till my paces were run down again ; a dependance which + 316 influence of taste on rural life. Oct. 342 at lerigth grew. intolerable to me, and put me at last upon trying fairly to wind up myself, which, b¥ God’s blefsing, and the strength of my understand- ing, I was at last enabled ‘to accomplith. Now, in the midst of so many notable discoveries, relating to machinery, that are daily publifhed for the gratification of tie public, and the benefit of trade and manufactures, it may: be no ungrateful communication for me to make to you, as my friend, that I have ascertained the primum mobile of aman of fathion to be fire, and not water. These falls of water at the various places of public resort, which ‘I have mentioned, make men and wo- men go, but they cannot wind them up, which J found to my fatal experience; but after a certain desicca- tion of the human frame, after having been drenched in mineral’ waters, with the constant difsipation which goes on after the humefaction, a coldnefs en- sues, which probably arises from the effects of eva- poration. But action and re-action, being equal and contrary; as has been observed by the great Sir Isaac Newton, a hot fit succeeds, and if no water, or re- dundancy of any liquid whatsoever, takes place, then, and in that case, an elastic flame is kindled, and the regular paces are resumed, and return into their due situations ; which was the thing to be demonstrated. Among your multifarious communications, direc- ted towards the improvement of your country, I fhould be-sorry to deny you the advantage of this accidental but important discovery of your old-and faithful friend ; and I give you my free permifsion to make it generally known to the people, in whatever L7Q2.’ influence of taste on rural life. BIL method you fhall think most persuasive and effec- tual. é ; _I have now the heartfelt satisfaction of seeing my wife and children, going regularly and profitably by fire, and not by water ; and though the original disco- verer of this astonifhing re/sort interieur, for moving the human mind, Iam so far from thinking of ap- plying for a patent to secure the profit of the inven- tion to myself and family, that I fhall put this letter into the post office, without a pang of regret at ha- ving let the secret out of my pofsefsion. I cannot - help however expecting that the parliament of Eng- land, who have given my old acquaintance and eleve, William Forsythe, three thousand pounds, for a mix~ ture of cow dung and old rubbifh, to restore fruit trees to their bearing, may be induced, on a proper, - application, to give me a reward for a mixture of common sense and dear bought experience, to restore country places, and country gentlemen, to their pro-. per bearing, without any ablagneation, incision, or disturbance whatsoever, _ I hope to get down to the country next week, te see my wheat put into the ground, and to attend our approaching meeting for our new inland navigation, when I fhall send you a more particular account than [. have done hitherto, of my experiments relating to the fertilization of land by leguminous crops, and the e- economy of manure by the drill: in the mean time I must tell you an ingenious plan my wife has fallen, upon, to promote the happinefs of the lower sort of. people in this neighbourhood. -gi2 influence of taste on rural'life. -Oct. 3ts. She has caused to be printed and circulated, a set of recipes for comfortable daily fare, in wholesome savoury food, prepared from cheap materials, two or three to chuse out of, for each day of the week. - ~She has therein accurately described the methods - of making excellent pottages of potatoes, seasoned’ with herrings, or with soy:; which last condimentaty liquor fhe has contrived to prepare‘from our own le- _guminous plants, of carrots, of onions, of pease, of coleworts, of cabbages, of cia of beets,.and of turnips. She has fhewn’ them the snethiod of reciderinig their houses comfortable by means Of flues, or little por- table stoves, and has added .a number of litthe- useful remarks, relating to ‘the prevention -of ‘disease, by -cleanlinefs, temperance, the use of ales, and nourifh- | ing liquors, instead of ardent spirits; and:concluded the whole with some plain and pertinent advices on the subject of morals, and the education of children; ’ not without some excellent hints relating to indus~. “try and general economy. While thus employed it~ is surprising-to see the progrefs the has made in gar- dening, and the knowledge of garden crops cultiva-: ted in the field ; and by attention to the habits and> wants of the people, is as ‘fit to write a good statis- ‘tical account of the parifh and pommety as any clergy- ‘Manin Scotland. — ‘While my help mate is thus ican employed, an riding her little pad about the doors, Iam scou- ting the fields on my charger of a hobby horse, and smoaking along the roads, to look at bridges, and. various objects of rural police, when I can find lei- £792. ‘influence of taste on rural Jife. 313 sure from farming and literature .and social inter- course. The other dag when I had come home froin a fa~ tiguing excursion, and was not in the best humour ‘in the world, my’wife took up the Seasons of Lam- bert, ‘and by way of comforting me, read- me the following pafsage from them, with which I fhall con- clude this Alexandrian epistle. © Heureax ! qui loin du monde, utile a sa patrie, e Y fait naftre des biens, en respecte Jes loix, «* Et derobant sa téte au fardeau des emplo's, <¢ Aimé dans son domaine, inconnu de ses maitres, «© Habite le doajon qu’habitoient ses ancétres ! << De l'amour des honneurs i} n’est point devoré. «© Sans craindre le grand jour, content d’étre ignore, « Aux vains dieux du public il laifse Jeur statues, »« Par lenvie et le tems-si souvent abattues ; ‘< J] ne s’egare po'nt dans ces vastes projets €€ Qui tuurmentent le cceur incertain du succes; «« Ii ne peut étre en butte a ces rev:rs funestes, © Qui souvent dela vie empoisonnent.les resics; « Elkever tes troupeaux, embellir son jardin, «¢ Plucot que l’aggrandir fecondir son terrain, “© Par-sa seule industrie augménter sa-richefse, ~& Voila tousles projets que forme sa sagefse ; ¢¢ Tine yeut qu’arriver au terme de ses jours, -¢© Par un chemin facile, et-gw il suivra toujours. “€¢ La Chine, et le Japon, Vai_uille tla peinture, © N’ornent pont ses lambris d’une vaine paruce; €¢ On y voit les portraits de ses sages aieux, «¢ Ils vecurent-sans faste, H veut vivre comme eux 5 © TH regarde souvent ces images si ckeres, ~ Qui parlent’3'son ceur des-vertus de ses péres. a“ ~ “WOL, xi. RR t 314 the effect of water on machinery. Oct. 3k-« TO THE MEMORY 2 oF P ROBERT ADAM, ARCHITECT, OF A RESPECTABLE FAMILY, - Long remarkable for producing worthy and useful citizens; And which in him and his surviving brother, ~ SAMES, HAS EXHIBITED A FINE TASTE IN ARCHITECTURE, Comprefsed and ‘limited by the defect of it in these Kingdoms, which would not permit Them to exercise, in its full ex-ent, that noble idea of simplicity and grandeur of Compositica which appear in their original designs, THESE SLIGHT OESERVATIONS AND HINTS ON TASTE, ARE DEDICATED BY THE AUTHOR. THE EFFECTS OF WATER ON MACHINERY. Hinrs on THE BEST WAY OF APPLYING WATER. TO MACHINERY “AS A MOVING POWER, IN A LEVEL COUNTRY, WHERE NO KIND OF CASCADES IS TO BE MET. WITH. : Continued from p. 257. Ty the foregoing part of this efsay it has been fhown, that plain float-boards can never be employed with economy on wheels that are to be moved by water, where a considerable fall can be commanded. But the case is reversed in a Jevel country ; for it is upon plain float-boards, alone, that water*can be made to act as a power,, for the moving of.machinery, where advantage is meant to be taken of the gentle flow of 2° current without falls. The enlarging the breadth of the wheel has also been condemned, as rather hurtful than beneficial, Wy92) =the effect of water on machinery. 315 “Where 2 fal) of “water can be commanded. “But ina Sa flat country this rule also is reversed ; for whete the Current 8 ‘géntle; it is a rule without exception, that the broader the wheel is, or in other words, the longer the float-boards’ are, with the greater. force ‘will the water act upon machinery as a moving powers ~%Jnall casés of this kind, also, the wheel, for obvi- © ous Feasons, ought to be made of as large a diameter as ~ €an be conveniently: -done. »Jn fort the float-boards ought to be ofsuch a lengths as to go acrofs' the whole breadth of the stream ; and “were it ten, twenty, or thirty feet in breadth, the wheel ovght'to be of the same breadth, having sup- ports for thé axle at each side of the river. ‘©OWhere the breadth of the wheel is very great, it will be ebvious that there ought to be two, three, or more wheels fixed upon the same axle, all of the “same diameter, for the purpose of fixing the float- ‘boards, and keeping them firm in every part. ) Wherever water is found to move forward with a ‘progrefsive motion, it deseends froma higher to-a lower situation, by reason of the prefsure-of its own weight always tending towards the lowest place. The greater, therefore, the inclination 1s of the sur- - face over which it flows, the greater will be its rapi-~ ‘dity ; and, in proportion to the quantity of water mo- “ving forward, will be its strength, when veal ee the same degree of velocity. | While water is thas moving, ‘if any object be laud ‘wet thestream, it will either stop the current, so as to form a dam, or it will be carried down the stream 316 the. effect of water onmachinery.. Oct: 34.. with the same degree of velocity, nearly, that the wa-- ter itself, moves. If, therefore, the float-board of a: mill wheel that is.moveable upon #s center, be laid acrofs a river, so as to prevent the water from _palf- sing, it will operate as a dam, tillthe water behind _dhall rise to such a height, as, by its prefsure upon- the upper side of the float-board, it fhall overcome the. -whole fesistanee made by the machinery. Where- -ever this happens, the float-board will be forced’ to give way and suffer the water to pafs ; the succeed = “ing float-board will be made to-yieldin its turn ; and: so on, till a rotatory motion be given to the wheel, . that must continue as. long as the water, fhall: conti-- nue to flow with the same degree of force. The principle on which machinery might be tur-. ned in these circumstances, is so excefsively clear, that many persons will be surprised it never hasbeen, carried into.practice in this country; but when. we. -advert that the power of water, where the fall’is con- siderable, is so much greater than where. its motion. is lefs rapid, we will not be surprised that mankind: thould have first thought of constructing machinery only where a considerable fall could be obtained ; and, when these mills came to be generally used, and -the mode of managing water in these circumstances familiar to every body, it would occur at. the.first glance, thata large body of water, moving slowly, could: ‘not be managed with ease i the sameway's and of course little attention tosluggith streams, as a moving power, would be given. The difficulties which would thus present themselves, on a superficial, view of the. subject, might thus appear tobe insurmountable, when ryoa. the effect ef water om machinery: > 347" they were in fact so easily to be obviated, as scarce- ' dy to deserve the name of obstructions at all; as will, L trust, appear from what follows. ; The principal reasons why no attempts have been _made to construct mills on this plan, are the follow- ing: ; 1st, Were a mill to be placed upon: the main bo-- dy of the stream, or river, there could be no way of _ guarding against the effects of inundations, by means of sluices, as at.present, whichturn off as much of the water into another channel, es fhall be at any - time superfluous ; nor could. the flow of the water towards: the wheel: be entirely prevented when the- _machinery is meant to be.stopped. ; ' To obviate both these. difficulties, it would only; however, be required to raise the supports - on which the gudgeons of the wheel rest. at either end, to such: a height as to overtop.the wheel ; and to make these: _gudgeons be received into an eye, fixed in a piece of wood, that admitted of being raised upwards at plea-- sure, in grooves provided in the.cheeks for that pur- pose. From each of these boxes let a chain be: car-’ _ried:upwards, and pafged over a round axle, placed at _a sufficient. height above the wheel; on one end of which let there be fixed a. wheel with spokes, like the wheel of a crane, by meansof which, .the water wheel might be raised entirely out of the water,. _wheneyer it fhould be wanted to stop the mill, either: ep account of a flood or otherwise *. * As Ido not mean here to explain particulars, but merely to deve- Nope frinciples, it is unnecefsary to troubleche reader wich a detail of. the made in. which this. might be eftected,, which could not be» rencc- THES «rhe effect ‘of water on machiner ye Oct. 3°t- “ad, A second inconvenience would arise ‘from the increased rapidity of the current during land floods, which would, on ‘these occasions, augment its pow- ‘er so much, as to make the wheel go with an incon- ~ venient degree of vclocity ; while the wheel would at the same time, by interrupting the current, ‘raise ~the water behind it to an inconvenient height. - ‘The last of these evils would be’ entirely removed, by lifting the wheel so far up, by the forementioned contrivance, as to allow the water to pafs: free below jt. By the same means, its power upon the wheel could be moderated, by letting only a small part of the float-board dip into the water*. If, however, this contrivance alone fhould nct be found to an- swer the purpose altogether, many other contrivan- ces, simple enough, might easily be adopted to mode-~ ‘rate the rapidity of the current at this place, which it is unnecefsary here to enumerate. . Were mills on this principle erected on all ‘the streams that easily admit of it in Britain, machinery, turned by water, might be introduced into ‘many parts of the country, tlat have been “hitherto deem- - ed incapable of any thing of that sort. In'rivers that flow through conntries which are-comparatively flat, this species of mills would answer better than in the rivers ‘that flow through mountainous countries ; because these rivers are not so subject to suddén red intelligible to ord'nary readecs, without many figures. To those who ave acquainted with mechanics the above hints will be perfectly sufficient. -* Itis scarcely nec?fsary to odszrve, that this elevation could occasion ro cerangement to the machinery of the mill, provided an upright spo- ked trundie of sufficieat length, were employed for catching the teeth of ’ the inner wheel. Eyo2. the effect of water on machinery. 315, and violent floods as a mountain stream ;.-and conse- quently the machinery could be regulated with lefs trouble. In mountainous countries, however, there is lefs necefsity for adopting this contrivance, as falls of water can there be commanded ; but even in hilly countries, the streams that ifsue from lakes, of a- large size, are peculiarly proper for this purpose, as being Jefs liable to sudden inundations than wails streams.—The Leven, from loch Lomond to Dum- barton,—the Awe, from loch Awe in Argylefhire to loch Etive,—the Lochy, and the Ne/s in Invernefs-- fhire, are large rivers of this kind, on which an infi- nite number of mills might ‘be erected. On such large streams as these, one wheel might always serve, two mills ; one.on each side the river. A number of, lefser streams are to be found in every part of the. country, on which mills of this kind might be erec- ted, on a scale more suited to the general ideas enter- tained on that subject at present, than these would be; for till enterprises of this sort fhall become more familiar than they now are, those first mentioned would appear too gigantic undertakings for man to atchieve. ow long will it be before man fhall come to know the full extent of human powers! _ Upon this principle, water, as a moving ‘power, might be commanded in many parts of Scotland, to such an extent, as, comparatively speaking, might be called infinite ; and pofsefsing advantages for turning machinery, that cannot be commanded to an equal de~ gree, perhaps, in any other part of the world. But as mankind are apt to be startled, when things that, they have been accustomed to look upon as impofsible, are proposed, I fhall not. for the present advance -320 : on’ the viper. Oct. 3. farther in ‘this line of disquisition, reserving what farther might be said on.this subject till another oc- _casion.: -HINTS ON THE GENERATION OF THE VIPER. The following extracts respecting the natural history of thé viper, have been transmitted to the Editor-by a correspondent to whom he lies unier very particular obligations for this and many former favours. Extracts from Mr White’s-natural history of Selborne, _ publifbed 1789, relative :to the «wiper. ‘Fo. Mr Pennant, ee ProvipENcE “hasbeen ‘so indulgent ito us, «as to allow of but one venomous reptile of the serpent kind in these kingdoms, and that is the-viper. As you -propose the good ef mankind, to be an object of your publications, you will not omit:to mention common salad oil, as.a sovereign remedy against the bite of a viper. As to the blind worm, (anguis fragilis, so called, be¢ause it snaps asunder with a small blow,) Ihave found upon examination that-it is perfectly innocuous. A neighbouring yoeman (to whom I -am indebted for some good hints,) killed and opened a female viper about the 27th of May: he found her filled with a chain ofeleven eggs, about the sizeof those of a blackbird ; but none of them were advanced so ‘far, towards a state of maturity, as to contain any ru- diment of young. ‘Though they are oviparous, they dre viviparous also, hatching their young within -their bellies,-and then bringing them forth: where- -as snakes lay chains of eggs every summer in my ee 1792s * on-the viper. 32k melon beds, in spite of all that my people can do to prevent them; which eggs do not hatch till the- spring following, as I have often experienced. Se- veral intelligent folks afsure me, that they have seen the viper open her mouth, and admit her helplefs young down her throat on sudden surprises, just as. the female opofsum does her .brood into the pouch under her belly, upon the like emergencies ; and yet the London viper catchers insist upon it, to Mr Bar- rington, that no such thing ever happens. ‘The ser- pent kind eat, I believe, but once in a year ; or ra- ther but only just at one season of the year. Country people talk much of a water snake; but J am pretty sure without any reason; for the common snake (co/u-. bur natrix) delights much to sport in water, perhaps with a yiew to procure frogs and other food.” To the honourable Daines Barrington, esq. Dear Sr, ** In August 4. 1775, wesurptised a large viper, which seemed very heavy and bloated, as’ it lay in ‘ the grafs, bafking inthe sun. When we came to cut it up, we found that the abdomen was crowded with young, fifteen innumber ; the fhortest of which mea- sured full seven inches ; and were about the size of full grown earth worms. This little fry ifsued into the world with the true viper spirit about them, fhowing great alertnefs as soon as disengaged from the belly of the dam. They twisted, and wrig- gled about, and set themselves up, and gaped very wide when touched with a stick, fhewing’ manifest tokens of menace and defiance, though as yet they had VOL. Xi. ss t 322 on the viper. ' Oct. 912 no manner of fangs that we could find, even with the help of our glafses. To a thinking mind, nothing is more wonderful than the early instinct which imprefses young animals with the notion of the situation of their natural weapons, and of using them properly in their own defence, even before those weapons sub sist, or are formed. Thus a young cock will spur at his adversary before his spurs are grown ; and @ calf or a lamb will pufh with their heads, before their horns are sprouted. In the same manner did these young adders attempt to bite before theirfangs were in being. The dam, however, was furnifhed with ve- ry formidable ones, which we lifted up, (for they fold down when not used,.) and cut them off with the point of our scifsars. There was little room to sup- pose that this brood had ever been in the open air before; and that they were taken in at the mouth of the dam, when fhe perceived the danger was approaching ; because then, probably, we fhould have found them somewhere i in the neck, and not in the abdomen.” | =e Extracts from Pennant’s Britifb tebioiae Ys euipectany the viper. ‘¢ They conceive a little egg within ; but bring forth their young alive. ‘* Providence is extremely Mids in rable this species far from prolific; we having never heard of ‘more than eleven eggs being found in one viper ; and those are as if chained together, and each ‘about the size of a blackbird’s egg. ‘* They copulate in May, and are supposed to be about three months before they bring forth. ¥797- on the viper. 323. ‘They are said not to arrive at their full growth im lefs than six or seven years ; but ik are sapee of engendering at two or three. ‘© The viper is capable of suppérting very long ab- stinence ; it being known, that some have been kept in a box sixmonths without food, yet did not abate of ‘their vivacity. They feed only a small part of the _ year; but never during their confinement ; for if mice, their favourite diet, fhould at that time be thrown into their box, though they will kill, yet they will never eat them. ‘Their poison decreases in violence, in proportion to the length of their con- finement. wt 4 _ “ These animals when at liberty, remain torpid throughout the winter ; yet, when confined, have ne- ver been observed to take their animal repose. ‘¢ The viper catchers are frequently bitten by them in pursuit of their businefs ; yet we very rarely hear of the bite being fatal. The remedy, if applied in time, is very certain ; and nothing else but sallad oil, which the viper catchers seldom go without. é' The axungia viperina, or the-fat of vipers, is also another- ‘Dr Mead suspects the efficacy of this last, and sub- stitutes one of his own in its place; but we had ra- ther trust to vulgar receipts, which perpetual trials have fhewn to be infallible. “ The ancient Britains had a strange superstition in respect to these avimals ; of which there still re- mains in Wales a strong tradition*.” "® See Pliny, book 39, chap. iti, 324. on-thé viper. 5 Oct. 316 From another correspondent I have been. favoured with the following fact, which perfectly corresponds: with the foregoing remarks. . Sir, To the Editor of the Bee. «« An acquaintance of mine who lives in the High- lands of this county, had been telling me, some time ago, that he had killed a serpent which had- young ones in it; but as I did not recollect the par- ticulars of his story, I sent for him since IT read’ G. R. H’s paper, and he is now here: he says, That as he was one day returning home, he saw a viper among the heath, which he struck with his hand’ staff, and carried home half dead upon the same: that upon coming near his house, he threw it down, and struck it with a spade, and divided it into two; -upon which there sprung out a number of small creatures, very lively and nimble, which were un- doubtedly the young of that viper. He says he con= tinued looking at them till they had travelled a con- siderable distance, (by no means stuck together) and then he killed them, for fear that they might escape and live. * “The old one was about twenty inches long, of a blackifh colour, with ugly yellow streaks ; the young ones were all of a blackifh colour, about five inches long, of the thicknefs of a packthread ; the head considerably larger than the rest. He is not quite sure as to their number ; but is very cer- tain it did not exceed ¢welve. If nothing more sa- tisfactory has come to hand, from any other quarter, concerning the viper, the above may be agreeable to mus I7Q2- moral reflections. - - 325 many of your readers, and may be depended upon as truth. Iam, Sir, your most humble servant, Sutherland, -- Sept. 24. 1792. ed a MORAL REFLECTIONS BY MIRA. * ' For the Bee. THERE is a gentlenefs even in the enjoyment of the country, which seems to charm, without engrofsing _ the mind ; and to breathe over it a grateful calmnefs,. -more approaching to the happinefs of the Divinity, in proportion as it appears lefs a sensation of plea- sure in ourselves, than a mild and celestial inclina- tion of diffusing it to others. Even the very bree- zes seem fraught with benevolence and purity, as they blow over the landseape, brightening’ every beauty, without even crufhing the humblest ; and diffusing to mortal bosoms, a harmony not unlike that of their native heaven! Enthusiastic as this de- scription may seem, it is not merely visionary, since happier days have frequently realized it: nor did I then ever see the setting sun, with ail those glorious scenes which succeed his depasture of a summer evening, without feeling myself at once more sen- sible of the blefsings of this life, and more worthy of those of the next. There have indeed occurred whole pee in pa I might say, with Hamlet, ‘ ol ® The phenomenon described in thelatter of G. R. H. p.-§.still re+ mains to be explained. When aay person fha'! observe one of a similar nature, it will be obliging to ccmmunicate it to the Editors 326 moral reflection>. Oct: 31-- goes so heavily with my disposition, that this goodly: frame, the earth, seems to me a steril promontory, This most excellent canopy, the air,—this brave o~ verhanging firmament,—this majestical roof, fretted with golden fires,-Why ? it appears. to me aly a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours! But the mind, however warped, cannot, if naturally good,. fail to be restored by a creation so similar: and I have long since beem convinced, that if integrity is not happinefs, it is the only thing. that can supply its: place. I wander here in search ‘of health; and feel the blefsed sun warm at my bosom ;,. or turning to the breeze, fancy I once more inhale strength and hap- pineds. Yet it is not instantaneously the exhausted heart. can resume its capacity for happinefs.: fears have been so long its. predominant exprefsion, that joy, even sometimes involuntary,. borrows: that lan- guage. fi The cause remov’d, habitual griefs remainy f the sou) saddens with the use of hoe Love, invigorating power ! thou who canst. alone revive the heart, withered by worldly cares and mental struggles! th ‘rough every tie do I look up to thee with gratitude ! whether tremulating from the soft lispings of infancy , the tender cautions of age, or the more dangerous and tumultuous accents brea- thed from lefs matured feelings: Still in a well go- verned mind art thou the source of good !-—hum- bling its Wanities, correcting its selfifhnefs, bidding 1Q2- moral reflections, . 329 it taste the blefsing of bestowing happinefs ; and, fi- nally, the sweet reward of receiving it. Happy that child to whom esteem descends as an inheritance ! who comes:into the world the beloved of many hearts! Whose virtues are supported by example, encouraged by emulation, and who receives, in the name of those from whom fhe sprung, the pledge of their being respected! Allow me to take ‘more than a nomjnal interest in an offspring so pre- ‘cious ; and teach her early to think the has found ' -a second mother in the sincere and affectionate aunt. - 7 However desirable the various advantages of pleasures of life may at different periods of it be, it is from its-rational and social duties alone we must derive our truest felicity ; nor are we ever so unfor- -tunateas in being deprefsed beneath, or so guilty, as in supposing ourselves elevated above them. oe cee ee Qe The human mind, created for, and accustomed to action, only languifhes in a gloomy inertity without ite ; . Man, though-born with the vigorous and marking virtues which distinguifh his career through life, frequently suffers the humbler ones that most con- stitute its happinefs,:to be cruthed by education and custom. These, it, is the part of woman to pre- serve; and while from his example fhe acquires candour, stability, and fortitude, fhe must inculcate by her own, the no lefs useful qualifications of gentlenefs, and self denial. particulars respecting Sardinia. ' Oct. 3%. PARTICULARS RESPECTING SARDINIA. “Sir, Ss‘ To the Editor of the Ber. Kites. Cert, in his natural history of Sardinia, informs us, that a peasant of that country cannot easily be persuaded to fhoot a kite, as he firmly believes that his gun will be uselefs ever after, o or that his wife will die within a year. je That, in ne the locusts had so multiplied upoa the island, as to darken the air in their flight, and desolate whole fields. They even infested people in their houses, and spread a general alarm. The crows, at last, were observed to fly against them in troops, and made such a havock among the winged clouds, that they soon disappeared. Afses. The same author observes, the Sardinian afses de not in general exceed two feet ten inches in height. Per. haps they may havedwindled from not being sufficiently . crofsed, or from the constant drudgery to which they are subjected. The water in the towns and villages, owing to some cause that has never been properly ascertained, is seldom drinkable. A great many of these dwarfilh afses are therefore constantly employ- ed in bringing that necefsary ~article of life from the neighbouring fields.-The grinding machines are al- amost all driven by this small breed, in so much, that in the Sardinian dialect, macinatore, and astnetlo are synonymous terms. I am, Sir, your humble servant, and constant reader, R. W. 7 POETRY. THE GHOST OF RENTONHALL 3 OR A TALE OF OTHER TIMES. For the Bee. I «ce Weep, Ellen, till your e*es run dry, “€ Your valiant lover’s slain; *€ From tilt and tournament he’ll ne’er *¢ A conq’ror come again.” * Ah! is he gone? the flow’r of youth! § And did you see him fall ? *€ Yes, and around his grave doth fleet ** The ghost of Rentonhall. It *¢ When Percy with his hostile bands *¢ Did sack fair Tweeda’s dale, *€ Young Renton fought, till all his foes ** In heaps around him fell. “¢ Now he is dead and many a swain *¢ Lamenteth for his fall ; ** Dim are his eyes, and o’er him screams *€ The ghost of Rentonhall.”” 11 © His face was like the noon-day sun € In majesty so fair; * And as fine burnith’d threads of gold : © Did hang his vellow hzir. ‘ His thape was like the mountain pine, € So. graceful and so tall ; ‘¢ Hl go and mourn o’er him, nor fear * The ghost of Rentonhall. Iv * His rising fame inflam’d the court, * That base and venal train, ‘ And they did vow, with one consent, © To have him sudden slain. € °Tis tortaows envy that has made * My valiant lover fall, * And laid him in the fhade, where stalks © The ghost of Rentunhaill. Vv Dark was the hour; the midnight moon Had-hid her silver beam ; And through the woods, as Ellen went, The birds of prey did scream ; VOL. xd. TT + poetry. Det. gt- Till sweet as e’er a syren lay, On pafsengers did call, Fair Ellen’s name was echoed by The ghost of Rentonhall. vI ‘ Sweet Ellen fhook in every limb, She reelled to and fro 5 So fhakes the lily’s slender stem When risen breezes blow: Light grew her head, her breast did beats She rotter’d to her fall, ? But found herself supported by The ghost ofRentonhall. : vir © O gentle Ellen know the voice “© To which you listen’d have; 4* No phantom I, nor fheeted ghost, «¢ Come from a midnight grave. ¢ J chose this method to elude «¢ Malicious en’mies all, &¢ My bands are arm’d, nor longer I’m «¢ The ghost of Rentonhall. VIIE He died unto king Robert’s court *, Who punifhed with pain, The guileful band, who had contriv’d To have the hero slain, ‘He fhone an ornament to kings, In fight or spleadid ball, And Ellen long and happy blefs’d The ghost of Rentonhall. Tweedside, AVL. Sept. 24. 1792. OO, Oe TO LOVE. a ia Aci powerful love} dance o'er the scene, And chear our hearts with joy serene; Steal on my soul thou soothing pow’r, And fhed refinement’s heav’nly balm; Make soft the winter’s hoary hour, - _ That robs us of the summer’s calm: Then sweet delight we will inhale Though snelly snows drift o’er our vale. + Robert 11. of Scotland, IP792 : anecdote. 335 ANECDOTE. Tue baron of Hzgi was a gentleman of the territory of Vinterthur in’ Switzerland ;.he was pofsefsed of several fiefs, and had his castle near. the city. This gentleman, who lived about the year 1300, made agriculture his ordinary occupation. His plough was drawn by fine horses. His son, who was a handsome young man, drove them with the whip in his hand, while the father, with grey hairs, opened . the bosom of the earth, and traced the furrows: A duke of Austria, going on. horseback. from. Rapperschweill to | Vinterthur,. was surprised at the distinguifhed air of the labourers, and the beauty of their horses. He stopped, and turning towards the grand master of his household : I have never seen, said he, so handsome peasants, and horses so well fed, labour the fields. Do not be surprised at it, my lord, replied that officer ; these are the baron Hegi and his son. ‘There is the ancient castle of their family, at the foot of the hill; and if you doubt it, you may convince yourself of it to- morrow ; when. you will see them come. - and offer you their services. In fact, the next day, the baron of Hzegi, accompanied by seven of his. people, all on horseback, came to Vinterthur to pay his respects to the duke, who did not fail to afk him if it was-him he had seen the day before, following a plough superbly e- quipped. Yes, my lord, replied the baron with dig- nity; after a war for the defence. of one’s: country, I think there is no occupation more worthy of a gentle- man than that of cultivating his own lands, and I give the example of it to. my son. The duke could not but admire the old man; he gave him the mgst flattering reception, and loaded his son with carefses. The anci- ents had the same idea of agriculture ; omnium rerum ex . quibus aliquid exqueritur, nibil est agricultura melius, ube~ rius, bomine lbero dignius. 332 account of remarkable trees. Oct. 3. REMARKABLE TREES, [Extracted from Sir Fohn Sinelair’s statistical account of Scotland. | Af» tree in the parifh of Bowhill. ‘Tue ath tree in the church yard of Bowhill, deserves 2 particular description, being no lefs remarkable for its un- common size, than for its extensive spreading, and the re- gularity ofits branches. The trunk is nine feet in length; the girt, immediately above the surface of the ground, is twenty-five feet ; and about three feet above the surface, it measures nineteen feet and a half; and, at the narrow- est part, eighteen feet. It divides into three great bran- ches; the girt of the largest is eleven feet; of the second, ten 5. and ofthe third, nine feet two ichies The branches. hang down, to within a few feet of the ground, and, from. the extremity of the branches on the one side, to that of those on the ip te it measures no lefs than ninety-four feet.. Another.. Tiere is another large ah tree in. the parith, though it is greatly decayed, only the trunk, and part of some of the branches remaining. The trunk is about eleven feet in length 5 ; the girt immediately above the surface of the ground, is thirty-three feet ; at the narrowest part it mea-~ sures nineteen feet ten inches. The proprietor has lately fitted up a room in the inside of it, with benches around, and three glafs windows. 'The diameter of the room is eight feet five inches, and from ten to eleven feet high. Parifh of Defkford, county of Banff. In an orchard adjoining to an ancient castle there is particularly an afh tree, which measures in girt twenty- four feet five inches and a half. It is called St John’s tree, from its vicinity to a chapel of that name. There.is a- 1792. account of remarkable trees. S47 nother afh tree in the same orchard, which measures in girt twelve feet three inches and a half, having a fhank twenty feet high, of nearly the same dimensions ; ‘his afh is called young St John. Holly tree in the same parifh. There is also a holly, perhaps the largest of its species: in this country. It measures, at the distance of two feet ‘from the ground, eight feet four inches anda half in girt. In several places of the parifh, hedges have been planted ; and they also thrive amazingly when they re- ceive proper care and attention. Yew tree in the parifh of Ormiston in East Lothian. In lord Hopeton’s garden at Ormistonhall there is a remarkable yew tree. Its trunk is eleven feet in cir- cumference, and twenty-five feet in length ; the diameter of the ground overspread by its branches, is fifty-three feet ; and there is about the twentieth part of an Englith acre covered by it. This tree is still growing in full vi- gour, without the least symptom of decay in any of its branches, which increase yearly in length about an inch. There is no tradition that can be depended upon for exactly ascertaining its age; but from the best infor- mation it cannot be under two hundred years old. It seems rather more probable tv be between three and four hundred years old. a PE a * A CHARADE WRITTEN BY THE RIGHT HONOURABLE Cuar es JAMEs Fox, ADDRESSED TO LADY SPENCER, Communicated by a respectable correspondent, Permit me to intrude for once, uncalled, inte your lady- fhip’s presence, and, by dividing myself, add greatly to my ‘consequence. So exalted am I in the character of my oo $34 a charade. Ott. 3% first, that I have trampled on the pride of kings, and the greatest potentates of the earth have bowed down to me 5: yet the dirtiest kenne] in the dirtiest street is not too ee to have me for its inmate: in my second what an infinite variety! I am rich as the eastern monarch, yet poor as the weeping object of your benevolence ; I am mild and gentle’ as the spring, yet cruel and savage as the wintry blast. I dare proneunee my self from the ablest, your ladythip's- superior, though few are the instances.that prove it, and ten thousand are the proofs-against it. I am young, bloo- ming, and beautiful ; yet old, deformed, and wretched. I. am,—but your ladythip is tired, or wifhes my re-union,-— it is done, and my consequence is lost. And E have no merit left but that of remaining, as before, your lady- thip’ s very obedient-servant. A solution. of the above is requested. QUERIES RESPECTING FRUIT TREES. Sr, To the Editor of the Bee. Ir would be doing me and many of your readers a: parti- cular favour, if you, or any of your ingenious correspon- dents, would furnifh an answer to the following queries : What is the most effectual way of preventing. young fruit trees running too much to. wood? What is the best: method of forcing (in the natural ground,), fruit trees. to: bear early ? It fs a pleasant thing, Mr Editor, to reap the fruits, of: our own labour. -f wifh to do so; and sincerely hope you will those of your very useful and entertaining miscel lany. J am your Old M. mq 20th July 1792. Constant READER *, * The Editor withes it were in his power to-give satisfactory answers to those queries; all he knows of the matter is, that some kinds of fruit trees naturally begin to bear at a much more early period of their life than other kinds; and that whatever tends to make them grow very lus ¥ . ts : = 24926 on manures. 335 NEW DISCOVERIES. The following three discoveries were transmitted to the Editor by a gen- _ tleman who had purchased thera at a considerable price, who now pub- lifhes them for the benefit of the public. >. First, The artificial manure. ‘For every acre take, _ Dregs of lamp or train oil, eight gallons, lb. Pe he. about - - a Be Ga a ka @ ‘Plaister of Paris, - - a ORS ney en ae Nitre, > - - - a) ae Op ED |e Common salt, - - - a 6 eo kre Lr ieee Directions. Powner the nitre, mix the salt and plaister of Paris with it. Take sixteen bufhels of dry light earth, lay some of it halfa foot thick, then sprinkle on plenty of the mixture. Lay another inch.of earth, then more of the mixture ; and so on, alternately, till the whole is laid together. 5 ae it; and mix it. Lay the top flat, but with a little ridge all round the edges, and then pour on the oil, so as to cover dces honour to that body, and if they fhall be able to act with the same judicious firmnefs in future, they will’ be entitled to a. preat fhare of applause; but they have an arduous tafk to: accomplith, and there is great reason to dread they will not yet be able to aécomplith it. Oct. 7. A deputation of the section of Paris, called Gra villiers, requested that the con: vention would speedily | pats sentence on the king; and. complained at the same tithe of several decrees of the cons vention. “ The men of the toth of hapa (said they,) will never suffer those ity whom they have placed their confidence, to disown for a moment the sovereignty of the people. Courage in 2 free people is a virtue, and we will never depart from this principle,—that if it tt just to obey the laws, it 1s just also’ to resist despots, under whatever mafk they say conceal them- selves, We are of opinion, that our interest requires that! ‘we fhould’ make our élections by open vote.” President, —* Citizens, the right of petitioning ‘isa sacted: right; but those whew present themselves at the bar to em- ought not to forget that respect which they owe’ to the representatives of the people.—I do not ‘mean ‘ta Aistoricalchronicle. the peaple of Paris, but to the speople of all France. The aational convention acknow- ledges only one people, one “sovereign,—that is, the union -of the citizens of the whole republic. . The representa- tives will not be compelled by threats to violate or discharge their duty. —They know it, -and they will render them- selves worthy of that confi- ‘dence with which the French ‘republic has invested them. They have nothing to fear, and they fear nothing from the people of Paris; and what you ‘said, to afsure them, was per- fectly ,uselefs. They enter- ‘tain neither fear nor suspicion. In fhort, the national conven- tion will always hear with pleasure the language of liber- ty, but it will never suffer that’ -of licentiousnefs. It will take your ‘petition into considera- tion, and admits twenty of you, ‘the number pointed out by the law, to the honours of the sit- ting.” _ The convention ordered ‘this answer to be printed; but “great exertions are making in ‘the Jacobin clubs to set this decison at nought. * The conduct of generai Dumourier, was equally deci- $ive and praise worthy, in re- prefsing the brutality of two battalions of the federates of Paris, who mafsacred in cold blood four prisoners they had aaken, in spite of the efforts of xix their officers to: ‘prevent it. The general orderéd these two battalions to be surrounded, and forced to lay down theit arms, standards, and uniforms. —That they thould be forced to deliver up the criminals who committed the inhuman maf- sacre at Rhetel, who, under an’ escort of 100 men, fhould con-) duct them to l’aris, and deli- ver them upto the national convention.—That the rest of the battalions fhould be bro~ ken—their’ arms and_ habits laid up in the military store, —and their colours sent back to their districts, to be by them confided to men more worthy to bear them. This measure was highly applauded by the convention. Invasion of Savoy. M. de Montesquieu, who has. been suspected, accused, and suspended from his com- mand by the National Afsem- ‘bly, has ‘actually invaded Sa- voy, and has taken pofsefsion of Chamberry, belonging to that state, without resistance. The extreme weaknefs of the king of Sardinia, and the ex- travagant conduct of the court of Turin for some time past, render it probable that they will meet with little opposi- tien from that quarter, unlefs the party of the prince of Pi- edmont, fhall finally preponde- rate in the national council, Swuxerland, The Swifs cantons are also xx threatened with an invasio from France. M. Ferrere was advancing with rapid progrefs to take pofsefsion of a strong pafs, into the republic called Prerre Pertuis, .and troops Were preparing to dispute it, when, by the intervention of deputies from Bienne, hostili- ties were prevented for the present, on the commifsioners of the cantons giving their word that the Austrians fhould not be allowed to take pofsef- sion of that pafs. Miscellaneous. A popular insurrection has taken place at Belgrade; the ‘Turkith ‘garrison -were forced to make a precipitate retreat into the citadel, where they are now besieged in form by the insurgents. have likewise stopped the post to Constantinople. Leyden, Sept. 28.. A num- ber of papers are now circula- ted here, which afsert, that the principal promoters of the re. volution in France are provi- ding a retreat im one of the islands of the Grecian Archi- pelago, which they mean to purchase from the Turks, in case any misfortune {hall hap- pen; and that their design is to fit out every vefsel belong- ing to the state which may be in a condition to put to sea, and to carry all the gold and silver out of the kingdom. ‘Chey have already, as is pre- The latter. ealne Bs nee tended, seized on all the see jewels, and their endeavours to discover the robbers are only a mere deception to amuse the public, M. la Fayettte was openly insulted by the people in paf- sing through Cologne; and, had it not been for his guard, he would perhaps have, been - mafsacred. He will be imme- diately carried from Wesel to Spandau, a state prison which is well known. The city of Geneva has- ek | fered more by the French re- volution than any other town or city upon the continent, as the whole funded propérty of the place rested upon the French funds; the> fall oa which, added to the fall of the exchange, have reduced their incomes more than half of their: original value. A very spirited correspon- dence has been for some time past, carried on between the courts of Vienna and Peters- burg. The ‘affairs of Poland are thought to be the object of these negociations, in which the two courts do not altoge- ther agree. : All adyices from Berlin a- gree in saying, that a great fer- mentation prevails in that city, and that the people exclaim loudly against the conduct of the king of Prufsia, who, to satisfy a momentary impulse of vain glory, is exhausting his ‘historical chronicle. Isabella, her letters. te- Albert, 133+. - Manurea, discovery of a new kind, 335 | i : > index. ‘Sardinia particulars respecting, @bservations; miscellaneous; 97 Other and othefs, grammatically clafsed, 266 OQuistiti, accouht of, 265 Own, grammatically clafsed, 267 Pangolin, anatomical account of, 162 —lives on mineral substances; ib. Pennaint’s zoology, extract from respecting the viper, Paffer, general, his plan of Swit- zerland; Phenomenon, singular, respecting _the generation of the viper, 5 Pholades eats stones, 166 Pigeons, on fhooting of, 53 Political progrefs of Britain, review of, Popularity, efsay on, Population in a barren country, how to increase, 29 Pronouns personal, observations on 120 Peculiarities affecting the pro- nouns-of the frst and second per- sons—GENDER 123—Nu™M- ~ BER 325—CaAseEs 126—ano- ther unobserved variation of, 127—-— affecting the pro- noun.of the third person only, | —GEN DER, singular number 194—plural 197——an_ unob- served cast 199—derivatives from personal pronouns 240— table of ditto 244——-another ditto 249—0tber, and others their place in grammarafs gned, 296—self and ‘se/ves, 267— ¢ Own 272—this, that, these, those, 272 Query respecting fruit trees, 334 Reflections moval, by Mira, 22-61-325 Reptiles and insec’s, observations “on, - Remarks, detached, 61-257 Revenue laws, destructive conse- quences of, on the population of the’ Highlands, Review,—political progrots of Britain, Rhodes, mifs Henrietta; on silk worms 170 Rolli, Paolo, curious anecdote of, 84 Komam Arcadia, account of, 223 Rot in*fheep, remedy fur, 336 Salt laws. their effects on. the r- venue in Scezland,, 26 320 302 212 280 3° 212 aon — xxvit 423° Self and selves, grammatically _ Clafsed, 267° Sheep, remedy for the rot in, 336 Silk worms, how to guard them from the effects of dampnefs in India, 73— observations on by’ mifs Henrietta Rhodes, 170— black silk worm, 173—foul air destructiveto them,176—how to prevent its pernicious effects 177—an easy method of ciean-- ing them, ‘ 177 Skene colonel, his letter to the, earl of Tweeddale, 210 _|Snails phenomenen respecting, 292+ Society of Arcadia at Remé, ac- count of, 81° Spain; its remarkable fertility jn former times, 23° Spallanzani, his experiments on fowls, obsérvati*.is on, 164. Spinning machine, improvement in, 147° Switzerland, a plan of, im relief, account of, 302. a Tale, Love and Joy, 144. Tallow anJ Jacquer trees intro- duced into India, 36. ‘Taste in architecture, efsay on, 53 Taste, on the influence ef on do- mestic and social life, 113-156 —on the happinefs, and glory of nations, 225—on exalting the pleasures of rural-life, 308 Thunderproof’s efsays, remarks on, 234. Thu.:derprocf’s reply to Misobron- tes, 103. Tigst, account of, 41—instance of one teing tamed, Timozhy Thunderproof’s reply to _ Misobrontes, 103 Toads found instones, 166 Tombuctoo, a city in Africa, dis- covery of, 14 Tourner abbe, his account of the Roman Arcadia, 81-22% Trees, remarkable, 33z Viper, hints oa the generation of, 5-320: Water, on the effectsyof, on dri- ving machinery, 204-250-314: Water alone sustains human life,’ 167 Wati’s estimate of the expetice of ~ ah xxvii 1, ae inde. the Crinan canal, abstract from,144 | King’s birth: day at Avon Print- _ Weaving machine,. 147] field, fog Westiti, account of, 265 Miiiander, by Mrs C. Smith, 259 White's natural history of Selbor- _- | Life, a song, 292 ne, extract from, . 320] Love and reputation, 211, ‘Yackstrotte, on bees, Jor| Luxury, against foreign, by W. Yew tree a remarkable one, 333 Brown, 186 emenns | Masca on charity, 139 PorTRY Mira, moral reflections by, 22 Ab—r—v-—+y, lady, epitaph on, 66 Méoursing mother, , 65 Ancient poeiry gleanings of, T40- 186 Nonser sical club, verses to, . 185 Avon Pp itfield, king? s birth day at1o§ Ode of Hafez, translated trom the. Brown, W. against foreign luxu- Persian, f 258 ry, 186 | Pompey’s ghost, 25 Verses on Charity 14 EZQ Rentonhall, ghost of 329 Epigrams 269-294 | Scots song, 24 Epigram French, 66 | Secret blabbed, 294 Epiraph o7 lady Absr—v—y, 66) %0 Sleep by W. Drummond sp Fragment 108| Hawthornden, 40 Ghost of Rentonhall, 329 Smith Mrs C, the Laplander by 259 Gleanings of ancient poetry, 147-186 | Song, ° Hifez’s ode translated from the Sonnet, ws Persian, 28 Tak tent and be wary : 24, Jones, Sir W. his translation of Tinder and fire, . 139 Hatez’s ode : 258 . ; f ue - ERRATA. P. 31161. penult, note, for evils reac cavils; p. 1401. 5. for hir’d read burr 3 p- 141 1. 14. for eight read eighty 5 p. 148 1. 5. for I in a few copies, read In an carly number; same page 1. 9. from the bot~ tom, in 4 few copies, for near ie sri 3p. 2601 14. for abtention read attrition; p. 185.1. 7- for zealous read jealous. ‘Env oF VoLuME ELEVENTH. a at en Wu a /S4 fy s aa , Z Die